Attack of the Cobbler

As the seconds ticked by, the aroma grew stronger.
Cherries. Blueberries. Raspberries. The smell of warm fruit mingled with sweet syrup and baking dough.
In anticipation I opened the microwave door. Steam billowed, carrying with it that delectable scent of cobbler.
I pulled the saucer toward me. The saucer being my microwavable safe plate upon which the silently sinister cobble sat.
As the saucer cleared the microwave, the cobbler saw its chance to attack. Its slick microwavable container slid from the saucer and launched for my right leg.
I was taken by surprise. Gooey goodness latched onto my upper thigh and knee and oozed a burning trail along my leg. I heard the saucer clatter to the floor and saw purplish syrup splatter the kitchen as I danced in pain, swiping the steaming cobbler with my hand, thus leaving defensive wounds on my digits.
I stripped my lounge dress over my head and sped to the bathroom. I vaulted like an Olympian into the bathtub and turned on a cold shower and washed the cunning cobbler from my body.
I returned to the crime scene to find my kitchen floor looking as if a mafia hit had taken place - purple and red  streaks simulated pools of congealed blood. I felt compelled to draw a chalk outline around the saucer, but angry splotches started appearing on my leg, searing my nerve endings in pain. I hobbled to my couch with after sun aloe and a wet, cold towel.
As I lay in agony, I could still smell the infernal cobbler.
Who knew it was such a fiendish fruit pie.

We Can Replace It

I heard the sirens wail outside of City Hall on Friday morning, and before my heart could kick start and beat again, I heard Deputy Fire Chief Bryan Thornton on the radio with Station No. 2,

 "You say a tornado is on the ground?"

Another spring like day. Another tornado for Limestone County.

Last year, I was a reporter covering seven twisters that hit the county on April 27.

On Friday, I was the spokesperson for Athens, gathering information and sending it to the media as quickly as possible. Reports came in of gas leaks, damaged homes and minor injuries in Canebrake. Then I heard East Limestone had been hit yet again, an area where some residents had just rebuilt from the 2011 tornado outbreak.

I didn't get to spend time talking to victims until Saturday morning, when Amy Golden with Athens Utilities and I walked the hardest hit area of Nick Davis Road. The phrase, "We can replace it," seemed to be each residents' personal pep talk. One elderly woman missed being home because she was getting her nails done, so her car survived but her roof had a gaping hole.

"These are things we can replace," she said, pointing at piles of debris holding items that once graced her home.

 Another young lady missed being home because she had a hair appointment. She and her sorority sisters were laughing as they swept glass and sheet rock.

"They're keeping my spirits lifted. I just did some redecorating, but I can replace it," she said, as someone tossed damaged items from her home into a garbage bag.

None of the destruction looked like the horror I saw on April 27 until we walked up to the Baldwin family's lot. All three family homes were demolished. As Paulette Baldwin tearfully told us all her family members were unharmed, someone placed a toy John Deere tractor spattered with mud in her hand.

"All of this we can replace. We can't replace each other," she said.

At one point, her husband Joe grabbed her hand and squeezed as if to give her some of his strength. I had to turn my head as emotions that still linger from the April 27 devastation collided with new emotions Friday's twister hurled my way.

As I walked back to my car, the buzzing of chain saws helped quiet the sorrow pervading my thoughts. I once again saw a community that stands together, rebuilds together, remains firm together.

"We can replace it. We can overcome once again."

Another reason to be Lovin' it in Limestone.

The Baldwin family's lot