Monday, 10-29-12, 11PM, EST (US)
It is eerily quiet right now - the rain has stopped, the two wind chimes hanging from the dogwood at the back door are silent and the sump pump isn't running.
The eye is upon us. I don't know how long it will take to pass over, or even if it is the complete eye or just the edge.
I've been pushing water around the basement for so long that I'll be doing it in my dreams for the next week. But, hey! We still have power in this part of town and my brooms are holding up rather well, considering, so what am I complaining about, eh? Not only that, but the sassafras is still standing.
New York City is dark, or large sections of it is, and the subways are flooded. DC and Baltimore are not faring any better. Phillie has massive flooding and property damage. From the forecasts and weather-in-motion maps (go here to view them, if you're interested), it appears Sandy has altered her expected course and now will sweep across the entire length of Pennsylvania. Bummer, dudes!
On the culinary front, I am celebrating this lull in the chaos with a cup of joe and some crackers with - pardon the vulgarity - tiger shit. What, you may well be asking yourself, is tiger s**t?! In my case, it is peanut butter and some sugar-free strawberry jam all swirled together so that the two are streaky. Yum, she says, voice dripping with sarcasm, breath stinking of...of...oh! - so that's why it's called that!
Oh, crud! I just realized that once the eye passes, the fun really begins. The rains will be renewed, but coming from a different direction, and the winds will be stronger. Hmmm...might lose power, after all.
While enjoying my hurricane party repast, I listened to Neil Young, one of my favorite singer-songwriters. I was fine until "Only Love Can Break Your Heart" came on. That song gets me every time. He's going to be in concert in Fairfax, Virginia the day after Thanksgiving. Would love to see him, hear him in person.
I'm rambling, I know. Truth is, I'm at sixes and sevens, what with the storm going on outside, and the one going on within me. This is one of those times when living alone is not as much fun as I thought it would be. Actually, I didn't think it would be fun, exactly, but I thought it would be better than being married to someone who absolutely didn't love or want me around. And, for the most part, it is. Except when it feels like the world is falling apart, and I have no control over any of the scary bits, you know? Maybe I need to get a dog. Yeah, that's what I should do, definitely...NOT! At least, not just yet.
Aha! the wind chime is singing again. And there goes the wind through the trees, followed closely by the sound of rain dripping over the edge of the gutter, beating its own tattoo against the bowl of the bird bath.
Won't be long now until the sump pump starts up again. I guess break-time is over. Time to down the last of the coffee, put the tiger shit away and go pick up a broom.
Later, dudes!
That wasn't the eye of the hurricane - just a lull. The eye will be here around 2 am, or so; another hour from now.
10 comments:
So now it's 7 am our time, roughly 2 am eastern seaboard time. Alas I'm a creature of extreme habit: I don't consult the news, either on telly, radio or computer, until 22.00 pm and thus I am in limbo. Perhaps Mitt Romney has been whipped up into Abraham's Bosom and the US is facing the dreaded Ryan, I'll be ignorant of it for another 15 hours.
They told me last night the storm was heading for New York. I shook my head. Nah, NY is too savvy, too hip to get drenched; besides hurricanes only punish the world's poor. The NYSE? What's more important in life than the Dow? Then I saw a special graphic they'd created and initially it confirmed my belief. This big white blob, given time, seemed on the way towards the west coast of Wales. But then the time elapses kicked in and the route hooked viciously north-west. Almost as if Le Grand Seigneur had said: Hey-ho Big Apple, you've been too savvy, too hip for too long. And perhaps I would never have the chance to take in a martini at Al Schacht's again.
Are we only going to hear from you when your life is threatened? If so it makes it remarkably difficult to structure an appropriate prayer. And mine, as you know, are addressed to the NYSE. The most telling detail you invoke is the sassafras tree since I know however hard things get over here we're never going to be menaced by a sassafras tree. A peculiarly Crowish detail.
So, stiff upper lip, Crow (We've just finished a telly three-parter on exactly that subject though, naturally, it referred to the British variety). At least the storm has dropped the election into second place. I take strength from the fact that you tend to survive. Cheers.
Do I write only when I'm in danger? I didn't think so, but perhaps I need to review my previous posts to see. Shame on me, if it's true.
The sassafras still stands, a new personal icon for tenacity, perseverance and strength.
Good luck, Martha. Thinking about you, let us know how you're doing. I thought about you yesterday watching the storm path on tv. Stay safe if you can.
Mike
We're fine as frog hair over here, Mike. My town was extremely lucky. I'm sure there are trees down in some parts of town; almost always are after this kind of weather. Ane, maybe power was out in spots, but, by and large, we are unscathed.
Thank you for your kind thoughts.
Martha
I hope the sassafras is surviving. I was not familiar with it but having looked it up can see that it has all sorts of intereesting features.
"fine as frog hair" - where the hell does that expression come from Crow?
Joe, the sassafras still stands, an aging monument to resistance against adversity.
The rootlets of the tree make a fine beverage, and a spring tonic.
Martha
Avus, I have no idea where it comes from. It is something my youngest brother started saying when he was about 14. For all I know, he made it up. Might be a Southerner thing.
The expression has been a part of our family ever since.
So nice to hear from you, by the way. Hope all is well in your neck of the woods.
Martha
Crow,
Maybe just someone warm and furry to come home to. If Roderick is referring to Ian Hislop's Stiff Upper Lip, we got that of the beep iplayer, and it really was wonderful.
All is very well, Crow, thank you. I have had a "blog holiday" for a while - nice to be back.
Post a Comment