The Voice of Reason

Between normal seasonal growth and the storms that have swept our state, we're all dealing with our stages of disarray.

People who work in landscaping, plumbing, roofing, electrical, etc. are overwhelmed.

Houseboy stopped by yesterday to check on our minuscule plantation. I pointed out limbs close to wires, overgrown trees and hedges, etc. I thought I had the perfect solution: While you're working with other clients, loan me your chainsaw.

Well, I wish a had a photo of his look of horror. Although I made the girl scout promise to stay away from power lines and keep both feet on the ground, he would have none of it.

Instead, I went out today with my big manual clippers and chopped for a while. It made me feel better. I know we have an axe around here somewhere.

Stormy Weather & Addictions

Stormy, scary weather swept through my city Friday night. I was downtown, enjoying the husband's band in an outdoor venue. I drove home through the storm, watching tree limbs fall and cars hydroplane around me. It was only 6 miles or so but it was frightening.

Our power was on but evidently had been hit during the storm. I ran around resetting clocks because I'm obsessed with knowing the time.

Saturday morning brought calm and clear weather. Unlike lots of people, we had electricity. We did not have cable. I get a little sweaty with the loss of my favorite companion, the television, but I get downright cranky when I can't get on the computer. My cable company is my Internet service provider. Panic attack is the kindest way I can describe it. Manic might be a better word.

I'm the first to admit that I have an addictive personality. Some good; some bad. During my meltdown, I realized that I would rather have my car break down, my telephone service disrupted and my iPod malfunction. Anything other than the inability to get online.

A Storm

Storms are magical, especially when you're safely tucked in.

My friend's lake cottage is a marvelous place to watch a storm. We can be on the pier and see that it's raining across the lake. We see the big clouds looming and watch the lightning in the distance. I know the routine and we become a well-oiled machine. We stack and tie down the pier furniture, gather our stuff and head to the patio. We take in the cushions and close the windows. Then, we pour a glass of wine and go back to the patio to watch the storm approach. We wait until the last second to run inside. (We're at the lake -- we're already wet.) Her dogs get a little antsy but my puppy seems oblivious.

After the storm, everything smells clean. The air is calm. We open the windows and put everything back in its proper place. We run outside to see if there is a rainbow. All is well.

I wish household storms were so fun.