|Irene, early yesterday.|
There is barely time today for much other than hurricane preparedness.
Hurricane Irene, an unwelcome guest, is expected to be passing directly over the northeast on Sunday as a "category one storm," which according to the Weather Channel, is pretty serious. With winds upward of 80 mph and rainfall in excess of 10-14 inches, power outages are expected and trees will be coming down.
I've been switching around, at breakneck speed, between all the local weathermen, hoping to hear something better from one of them but they are all in agreement.
And, to my surprise, they are all behaving themselves. Usually, when a big weather event is expected, they work themselves into a frenzy --shining laser pointers into each other's eyes and snapping the bras of the anchorwomen -- until they are dragged off in restraints or tasered.
What has me worried is how calm they've all been.
This morning, one even said, "Don't freak out."
Don't get cheeky, Weatherman. We all know that you and your meteorological brethren are so often completely wrong that you are now operating under some unspoken code of calmness to save your asses if Hurricane Irene drifts out to sea and I just bought enough bottled water to see us through the apocalypse for nothing.
I will admit that I am concerned.
|Out of my way, Grandma.|
We're doing what we can. We had to pummel a few senior citizens and trample some small children but were able to procure what we need: canned chili, Wheat Thins and a People magazine.
Seth keeps insisting that we don't need any emergency lighting because in power outages, as soon as darkness falls, he immediately gets into bed and falls asleep, waking with the roosters the following dawn.
This is not all that different from his normal daily routine.
And yes, to all my neighbors who've been wondering, he's the one who's been crowing around 6 am every morning. He considers it a public service and will not be stopped.
I cannot follow this schedule, regardless of the circumstances, and need to be able to see at night so I can read, do crosswords and use my bedazzler.
We will be bringing in the furniture on the deck lest it all become missiles, tying the grill down using boy scout knots (first we have to become scouts and learn them) and I plan on duct-taping the cats together in a bundle for their own safety. Plus, it will serve whoever crapped in the shower this morning, right.
With no electricity, there will be no blog. On the computer, that is.
In preparation, I have learned how to create smoke signals by watching old westerns on TV and have secured the blankets and kindling necessary to communicate with all my readers.
The trick is that you need to be close enough to see them, not to mention interpret them correctly (big fluffy puffs mean that I am running low on peanut M&Ms)...so hurry on over immediately. I'm sure there are hotel rooms available within smoke signal viewing distance.
To all in the hurricane's path, be smart and safe.
|And they were never heard from again.|
Do NOT go to the beach to admire the waves.
How many awful post-hurricane news stories about people who do that must you see before you realize how dangerous that is??
Have your hand-cranked radios ready, duct-tape for your pets, a deck of cards and water in your tub for flushing.
Hopefully, this will not be as bad as they are telling us. See you soon, right back here!
Here's a classic...."Like a Hurricane," by Neil Young.