It's Saturday evening as I write this. It's a dark, dismal, rainy day with a strong sense of foreboding in the sky. Irene is scheduled to visit the neighborhood sometime Sunday morning. So by the time you read this, if you do, she will have already begun her merry dance.
Irene is armed to scrape the New Jersey coast, and that means Atlantic City. The crazed religionists should have a ball with that one. "They're being paid for their sins. God hates gamblers." And so on. 'And as for New York, with their same sex marriages, they deserve everything they get." Right.
I am worn out from doing all the things I'm supposed to do to prepare. There will be wind, there will be rain, there will be floods. But the only thing that most concerns me is that there will be loss of power. Everything in my apartment is electric, except the heat (wouldn't you know). I've got the flashlight and the candles. My laundry is done. I'm convinced that the washer exacts a tax of one sock from me every time I do the laundry. I'm hard boiling the half dozen eggs, but I don't think I'll color them with cheery designs, that's a different type of celebration. I have food that doesn't need cooking and plenty of drinking water, thanks to the angel down the street.
I'm almost directly in the path of the mighty Irene, so there is no telling what is going to happen. How long my power will be out is anybody's guess, but until it's turned back on the Vagabond won't be able to communicate with anyone except the birds and squirrels. But if my juice is still flowing Sunday morning I'll post "Waiting For Irene, Part 4"
I hereby accept all good wishes for my survival and well being and for that of all other Northeasterners.
DB - The Vagabond
Never give up.
Summer is moving along, people.
It's a long, hot, sticky summer, so here's a hot, sticky question for you.
Same sex marriage. Should it be legal or not? If so, why? If not, why not?
18 answers so far.
You have until the last day of summer, but don't dally.
I eagerly await your answer.