The morning started out with a slight breeze.  The flag at the barn danced gracefully in the wind.  The hay in the field gently swayed.  A few leaves tumbled from the oak trees.  Even the cows were blissfully unaware of the bad weather on the horizon.

Lately, our local weatherman has consistently missed the mark with his forecasts.  In my neck of the woods, we’re used to storms.  In fact, we consider a wind storm a good time to save electricity and hang the laundry out to dry.  So, when the high wind alert popped up on my phone, I shrugged it off.  Instead, I trotted outside with the laundry and a bunch of extra clothespins.

My Carhartt overalls.

My barn coat.

A couple pairs of yoga pants… and three brand new bras were expertly pinned and double-pinned to the clothesline.  Feeling confident, off to town I went for some pig feed and a new pair of Muck boots.

Now, bras are my Kryptonite.  Bra shopping is not a pleasant experience.  It’s a long, drawn-out, mentally and physically challenging process that usually involves a lot of cursing, quite a few tears and a possible arrest for bra vandalism.  So, when I find a bra that I like, I buy the entire store inventory and stick with that same model until the company goes out of business.

But, I digress…

When the wind initially started to pick up, I didn’t pay much attention.  Even when giant dust tornadoes started to blow through the feed mill parking lot, I still wasn’t worried.  But, as every minute went by, the wind grew stronger and angrier.  I white-knuckled it on the drive home, as the wind gusts shoved my SUV back and forth on the road.  By the time I pulled into the driveway, the flag at the barn was fully unfurled in the wind and the flagpole was swaying violently.  The wind storm was bearing down on the farm and I was cursing every weatherman within a hundred mile radius.

I made a quick lap around the barnyard…

Goats are in their house – check.

Cows are laying in the field enjoying a fly-free day – check.

Pigs are sleeping in their food trough – double check.

Dogs are snuggled together on their bed – check and check.

Donkeys, well, they were being their usually uncooperative selves – check, check and check.

Barn gates are still shut – yep.

Barn door is closed – uh huh.

Clothes are drying in the breeze… UH-OH.  No clothes.

Just then, the sky opened up and the rain came down in buckets.

Several hours later, after the rain stopped and the sky turned blue, I ventured out of the house to find my missing garments.  The coveralls and barn coat were heavy enough that they blew off the clothesline and into the bushes.  My yoga pants were wadded up several yards away against the greenhouse.  And my brand new bras… they met a tragic end.  Two of them blew all the way across the lawn and into the sh*t pit at the barn.  The third one, well, that’s still a mystery.

I hate you, Mr. Weatherman.