on the other side...

things to do while tropical storm fay rages around you:

eat. like way too much.

drink. my poor liver. and i did more drinking earlier in the day than i ever have before.

watch movies you have seen before that you know will make you laugh.

get wet. on every trip between houses.

change clothes (see above).

drive golf balls into the banana river in 60 mph winds with the rain falling in sideways.

we started off driving balls off of j's back porch. but since his backyard is enclosed by a small brick wall, followed by a largish parking lot, followed by the a1a, and since only j, b and myself were alert enough through the alcohol to realize that driving balls into the road was a criminally insane idea, (the other j from the cove kept trying to hit the balls into the street and then laughing maniacally) we decided to take a bucket of balls, a few clubs, and go down to the banks of the river. not sure why we bothered wearing coats any of us. it is ridiculously hard to try and swing at a golf ball with rain all over you glasses and the wind whipping past your ears, but once i got the hang of it i was able to concentrate on my stroke, and actually was doing pretty good. then diving through newly-formed ponds on our way back to the house to changes clothes.

for the third time that day.

we weathered it fine, o my beloved non-existant readers. we never lost electricity. we had water aplenty. the only damage that anything we call ours received was a piece of siding came loose on the underside of the roof of our front porch. an easy fix to slide it back in. oh, and both our cars need baths. other than that, just fine.

Everybody Needs A Bosom For A Pillow...

jealousy is an ugly emotion, and i don't deal with being the object of jealousy well at all. especially if i feel the person being jealous has no claim on me in the first place.

i was in portland visiting relatives in 1980 when mt st helens blew and flooded the tuttle river with mud and debris. the ash fell on the sidewalks like snow. on our hurried trip back home, we had to take an alternate route, and the mushroom cloud of ash and steam was clearly visible on our right. my mom pulled into an empty parking lot and said, "boys, i want you to look at that and remember. this kind of thing doesn't happen very often, and you were right there."

st helens' aftermath lasted for some time, and ash was being swept off of sidewalks for many weeks to come.

volcanoes, earthquakes (nothing too serious, mind you), floods, extreme heat, extreme cold. been there, done that.

so i guess we are adding to that hurricane. though, in all honesty, fay never became anything bigger than a tropical storm. but the word "hurricane" has been tossed around quite a bit lately.

the kids are out of school today (only their second of the new school year), i am home from work (not that i am complaining, mind you), i awoke earlier than i would've liked to rain pounding the glass of our balcony door, and wind whipping through the eaves.

we bought water, extra batteries, the necessities. i had pulled in all our lawn furniture and hoses and garbage cans except the one that was full and to be picked up today.

there i lay in bed in the dark, the storm pounding outside, no. 1's elbow in my ribs, thinking: i better get out there and get that garbage can in before i find it all over the cove.

the rain died down some and i threw on jeans and a t-shirt and head out there.

to find the garbage truck collecting the trash of our very cove.

as the trashman nears my can, looking like an extra straight from braveheart (broad fair face, long red hair and beard, thick, strong body) who was tossed into a yellow rain slicker and sent out, i say, "i thought i better get out here cause i figured you guys wouldn't come and everything would be everywhere."

"we're like the mailman, brotha."

i put the empty can in the garage, and think:

this aint gonna be too bad at all.

darth sardonic