OK, so I've just about had enough of these stupid hurricanes. Could we just have a normal weekend, for heaven's sake, without all the scurrying and nailing and things? My boards from "Frances" just came down last weekend, having been left up in anticipation of "Ivan", who threatened for a while, but didn't even come here. I have no time or energy to go put them back up for "Jeanne", so this will probably be the proverbial "big one" we've heard so much about, and I will lose part of my house. Oh, well. I am once again, watching the news non-stop, looking for any nuance in the sattelite photo that could determine for sure where she will go. My man, Tom Terry, on channel nine, seems to have an instinct where hurricanes are concerned. He was the ONLY weather man who said hurricane Charley would go where it would go a whole DAY ahead, and no one at the NHC would listen to him. He's saying Jeanne will come right over my house, so I'm paying attention. And I predict a network job for Mr. Terry as soon as this hurricane season is over.
What I am not doing is panicking. My other half, Tone Blaster (I don't refer to him as my better half, because he's not) has seen fit to be "out of town" on "business" this weekend. It's a good thing, because if I had to deal with his incessant running in and out the door checking the weather whilst hammering up boards on the outside of the house and ordering the children to turn off the TV and pick up the yard again, I might have to choke him in his sleep. I am simply too stressed.
We've plenty of baked beans and pop-tarts, so Jeanne can just come and get me, by gosh.
No comments:
Post a Comment