Disaster movie sprung to life.

A crazy, end-of-days storm blew through as Michael and I were leaving Home Depot last night.

As we traversed the parking lot back to the car, the wind almost carried me away, and then prevented me from competently placing the deer fencing and long poles I had just purchased into the trunk.

As I fought with the unwieldy poles, the rain pelted the back of my legs. I heard a commotion behind me and turned around to see the Cart Corral shelter had blown over and was tumble-weeding at startling speed toward us.

"Let's get outta here!" I cried as we ran to the side of the car, fought to open the doors against the wind, and then were finally blown inside

Scenes from the Sharknado movie we watched last night flashed through my brain as Mike drove the get-away vehicle, careening this way and that to avoid debris.

And then the howling winds blew the demo shed loose from its moorings, and it began to menacingly approach our car, inching without feet against the pavement.

I looked out the passenger window in horror as it crawled, with seeming intent, toward us and let out a B-movie-worthy scream.