Upstairs, Downstairs

Due to the weather, (LOOK ANOTHER EMERGENCY EMAIL!) tonight has consisted of running downstairs when the tornado sirens go off, deciding nothing is going to happen, trudging back upstairs only to hear the tornado sirens go off again so prompting us to head back down again.

Prior to enjoying my home basement emergency visits, I went to choir practice where we practiced ... in the basement. In the too-small-room for 30-plus people basement. In the too-small-room which becomes stuffy way too fast when you cram in 30-plus people. I'm not sure if the evening was unholy or extra penitent, but mostly it was a pain in the Episcopalian ass. But I went anyway, because somebody had to knock off those successive high-C's as we exhort our listeners: "don'tch-ya get weary." Yeah. Don't YOU get weary. I got that covered.

So after choir practice in the basement I drove home and 10 minutes later, the sirens went off. Again. Back down we went. TeenTuna had to spend copious time gathering EVERYTHING -- Hearts and Keys blanket, Fluffy, Priscilla, Game Boy, Games, Game Boy Charger, iPod, extra pillows and a book. I looked at her and said, "You are missing the point of getting to the basement NOW...so MOVE IT." She finally did, and down we went. And then I came back upstairs because dammit, GramTuna had crossword puzzles and I couldn't just sit down there doing nothing. Of course, I should have gone downstairs and done laundry, but that doesn't seem like an appropriate emergency you're-gonna-die type activity.

So we're down in the basement, watching local news and listening to the poor weatherman try to find 49 million different ways to say: storm -- wind -- shelter -- damage. Poor guys. They'd been at it since before I went to choir practice. In mid storm-wind-shelter-damage report, the TV suddenly buzzed in that emergency way, and the Doppler Voice said to turn to Emergency Channel 15. Wow. I never knew I even had an emergency channel 15. I looked at GramTuna and said, "So they're interrupting my local weatherman with all the weather information so I can go to the Emergency channel? And learn what? Anything new?" GramTuna, who had been at this for awhile said, "Yeah, but now you can hear it in SPANISH."

Sure enough, it habla'd in Emergency Espanol. Ole!

The cats, meanwhile, were upstairs losing their everliving minds. I don't know what it is when they know I'm home but not on the same floor or the same side of the house. Gabby starts hurling herself at the door and yowling. I finally gave up and went upstairs and let them come downstairs. To the basement. Where they aren't allowed to visit. Oooo Boy, you would have thought I gave them the keys to the kitty kingdom. Bunny notwithstanding (because they can not withstand him) It was two rooms of all new smells. And balls of sheep! And YARN! Cat nirvana. So they crept and sniffed and sniffed and crept and had a grand old time.

Eventually we gave up (again) and came upstairs (again) and dragged all the stuff with us (again) and put TeenTuna to bed (again) and turned on the TV (again) and resumed listening to the weatherman say the same things (again). But at least I have the Internets to keep me company until the storm systems pass.

It's going to be a long night.