Holy poot, y'all. A gigantic hail storm just rolled over us. Like, fifteen minutes straight of quarter-sized hail, coming down at a something like a fifty-five degree angle. I mean, you could just see it washing over the roof. The back yard is white. So is the front yard. Any larger, and we'd probably have had some broken glass -- I could hear it smacking into Secondborn's window. And a couple of pieces somehow managed to fall into the middle of the house through the dryer vent, which sounds slightly less insane once you realize that our dryer is currently disconnected and sitting in the newly-tiled kitchen. And the whole thing was accompanied by a steady, irregular strobing of lightning and thunder.
Naturally, the first major hail storm we've had in several years fell on us at a time when we'd blocked off one side of the garage (because of the tiling), so my car was outside through the whole thing. (Not much I could do about that.) I'm pretty sure the hood and roof are dimpled, but the glass is intact so it could be much worse. My wife's vehicle, on the other hand, was safely in the garage; it's by far the newer and nicer of the two.
I like storms, normally, but this one? This one was a bit much.