I spent some time Friday evening before the storm came walking around and taking pictures of my grandparent's house. I had no thoughts that the old house would be any different after the storm. I was just playing around with the patterns of light and enjoying fond memories.
This is what we always called the water shelf. Back in the day, a galvanized bucket filled with drinking water was kept here. There was a ladle in the bucket to drink from.
The tree hit the roof of the porch in about the same place I was standing the day before while taking pictures.
Notice the door? It is the one I have on my blog profile.
This is the breaking point of the tree that fell on the porch of my grandparent's house. It really didn't get uprooted. The top of the tree was twisted away from the bottom of the tree.
If a tree falls in the front yard and no one is awake to hear it, does it still make a noise? Apparently not. We all slept through the fall.
When the winds died down Saturday afternoon and we went out to see the sights, this crazy dog (his name is Junior, Senor) walked right up the trunk of this tree like he had been doing it all his life. It is hard to tell, but he is about ten feet off the ground.
I kid you not, I do not make these names up!
Ah well, life does go on.