Nebraska weather is crazy in early March. It was 60 degrees yesterday, we had thunder/lightning/hail/rain/snow this morning, and it's supposed to snow tomorrow.

The weather reminded me of one memorable birthday celebration with Grandpa Meyer. We went up to Grandpa and Grandma's house to have supper and open presents. About as soon as Grandma put away the last sliver of angel food cake, a huge, nasty thunderstorm rolled through. There were tornado warnings in the surrounding counties, and I was secretly hoping some of the excitement would come our direction (not because I wanted the house to blow down, but because I'm a screwball who loves bad weather simply because it's interesting).

The storm was powerful enough to knock out the power. Cole, Hayley and I were shrieking in the basement, so Dad came down with his flashlight and led us back upstairs. Lindsey was really little -- maybe 2? -- and she wouldn't stop crying because the thunder was scaring her. We all huddled in the living room and waited for the power to come back on. And waited. And waited some more.

Finally, Grandpa announced that he was opening his presents, electricity be damned. I can still picture him holding a flashlight in one hand and polishing off half a package of Peeps with the other. :)

It snowed the next day. (Happy birthday, Grandpa -- even if I am one day early.)