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Saludos a todos. I’m a new beige.party member. Beige.party has been a friendly instance so far. Although a few followers and people I follow always seem to disappear when I move instances, most of you appear to have made it. And a few new ones have found me. Thanks! Therefore, in accordance with custom, I hereby make my introduction.

My name is Jacqueline. You can call me that instead of thethuthinnang, if you want. My Fediverse journey began on 5 November 2022 at toot.community. I soon rolled over to c.im, then to ieji.de, followed by mstdn.social, and most recently to mastodon.ie. The entire time I’ve been here in the fediverse, I’ve been beige.party adjacent. Now, I finally decided it was time to join the party of all parties.

You wonder why I move so often? I think I become restless after a while. My family moved around a good bit as I was growing up, and I seem to behave the same way online. Any psychoanalysts are welcome to comment.

Here in my Mode Beige space, you’ll see photography (film & digital) mostly focusing on nature and always with AltText. I share some writing and will also link to my Mataroa site where I write. As for my non-digital life, my daily family life includes a spouse, an aged mother, two dogs, a cat, and chickens. I’m a latine GenX lawyer. I have no human children (gasp!) (sound of pearls being clutched) and am very pleased about our decision but think your human children are great, unless they do something horrible. I have a brother and a sister. My father passed away many years ago.

You can see some photos I posted on pixelfed.social, but I haven’t been there in ages. I also have a mastodon.social account that I don’t use. Why? Reasons that made sense at the time, but I’ve since forgotten. My photography blog is here: https://www.photovotary.com

If you’re still reading this, kudos to you. You have a long attention span. Feel free to stop at any time. This isn’t a contractual relationship. And the “social contract” isn’t enforceable. Maybe you’d like to read a story. This is a true story that I remember.

Once when I was very young, about three years old, my father suddenly came home and began rushing around the house speaking with a firm tone of voice about something I didn’t understand. Something was coming, and the grownups were worried. He and my mother cracked open the windows and sliding glass doors. I remember the gossamer drapes billowing into the room and I started playing with them. Then I began trotting quickly behind one or the other parent asking why they were doing this. They ushered my brother and I into the cellar that we entered from an outside doorway into the ground, much like in the Wizard of Oz! Except it had steps and was under the house (I think), but I feel like the floor of the cellar may have been hard packed dirt. We also had a little rust-color Dachshund and a German Shepherd who came into the cellar with us. I was scared and tried to pet Rusty, but he growled at me. I remember feeling disappointed and scared. I began crying. My father lit a lantern to add to the ambiance because the single, bare bulb was quite dim.

I began looking around the cellar from where I was standing near my mother. It was dusty and cobwebby. The corners of the room were dark and shadowy. There were cans of food and cardboard boxes that had not been unpacked since the last move, which was before my birth. My father was fiddling with the radio by turning the knob back and forth trying to find a station, tilting the antenna all around. The radio made those other-worldly screechy sounds they make when you turn the knob between stations. Mom was trying to get us to settle down and play cards or a board game. We wouldn’t.

What little light I could see from outside was yellow. Wind was howling. Suddenly there was loud knocking on the cellar door! My mother told me it was only hail, but I didn’t know what hail was. All I knew was that it was so loud we had to yell to talk.

And then, it was quiet and very dark outside. My head felt funny inside my ears. Only the lantern and a candle mom had lit were on because the lightbulb suddenly went out. Next, I heard what sounded like a train. I asked if there was a train, but no one answered me. It became very loud outside. I may have screamed out loud, but I am not sure. My father was tense. My brother was quiet and kept pushing me away. I was confused and my mother kept telling me not to worry. But nothing made sense. What was a tornado? Their explanations sounded ridiculous.

In a little while, it became quiet outside. Dad said we could go up the stairs. When we did I saw that there were golfballs all over the ground, but they were cold when I touched them. Mom said it was hail and to leave it alone. There were puddles everywhere. I walked around and saw pieces of things that didn’t belong in the places they were. In a little while I saw that there was a girl on a bright yellow bicycle pedaling around on the black asphalt road around some puddles and tree limbs. The sun was shining.

Later, we heard about how the roof came off of the store in town. I knew we were okay, but my feelings were hurt for a while because of how my brother and Rusty acted. Mom tried to tell me they acted that way because they were scared. But my brother said he hadn’t been scared (of course).

And that was the story of the tornado that hit the little town I lived in when I was three years old. I learned a little about weather, about human and animal behavior, and that tornadoes cause pressure changes so people used to believe that you should crack open your windows. But that’s not true.

Have a great day!