Wild Morning

That title is a little misleading.  It's not wild here, it's wild on the Southern East Coast.  I've been watching the Weather Channel because my daughter, her husband and two sons live in Norfolk, Virginia and they are getting hit with high winds and rain, with the eye of Irene still a couple of hours away.  It tickles me to watch the Weather Channel guys on the beaches, their pants flapping violently, yelling as they attempt to be heard over the high winds.  A guy in Nags Head, NC, on the beach bracing himself against the wind and being hit by a knee high wave, while he tells the "anchors" in the dry studio that he's fine, no problem, and the sand is whipping up around his knees.  I can imagine how sand blasted his face will be later. when he finally leaves that beach.  But these guys don't care.  They love the weather.  I like the Weather Channel better than those on our local channels or anybody's local channels, because they don't sensationalize it as much as the locals.

My daughter  says the wind is blowing hard, so far no worse than the what she calls "Mom's Nor'easter", the storm that blew threw and flooded the basement, knocked out the lights, flooded the roads when I was in Norfolk a year and a half ago, in October.  We were without lights for 3 days, trying to find a sump pump to get the water out of the basement, eating cheese and apples, playing games in the candlelight.  We had a good time, but were getting dirty and finally were able to go out and shower at the local gym, which had power.  I think they are going to have a much worse storm this time though, as the eye is heading straight at them.  Norfolk floods easily, as it is all at sea level.  I'm sure my daughter has her camera at the ready in case the water comes all the way up to their porch, which is higher than the street.  Some idiots in a big black SUV just drove up behind the weather guy that's standing in a street in Virginia Beach, and waved at the camera.  Nuts!  It's an adventure for them, but it won't be funny when a branch flies off a tree and breaks their windshield.  Apparently there has been a tornado not too far away from there.  So the weather assault is getting dangerous.

And here at home, I've been watching 4 Stellar's Jays, the birds we Westerners call Blue Jays, flying and jumping around in the yard.  I am running out of birdseed in the feeders and don't have any left.  In order to keep this show going I have to go get some seed today.  I have to go back to Mom's house today and for a couple more weeks, I'm afraid, as the cleaning slows down, dependent on my brother to do his part.  He is taking that "sentimental journey" that I was taking in the early days after Mom died.  Picking up a picture and then engrossed in the memories and picking up another picture and so forth, until an hour had passed and no progress had been made.  In his case he is picking up magazines and looking through them, or model pieces, collecting pennies off the floor.  We are getting close though.  I can see the rug on his bedroom floor--we worked at it with hands, a hoe and a little snow shovel doing the work of broom and dust pan.  All the tiny bits of model parts are off the floor, all the cassette tapes are picked up, all the clothing, the magazines have been sorted and bagged.  All that is left to do is sorting through the items left on the bed and the table, taking clothes out of the dresser and then pulling all the magazine pictures off the walls.  My husband's tolerance level for helping out is very low.  He and I took furniture down the narrow stairs Thursday but there still is another coffee table upstairs, an end table, yet another coffee table and a full size bed to bring down.  It never seems to end.  He kept his cool on Thursday, keeping me posted as to the percentage of his tolerance--"I'm at 50% now".  "Okay," I'd say, "Only 2 more things to do and then you're done."

I took a break yesterday and we went to see an alumni friend up at Keyport.  I'd been telling my husband about his garage, which is a combination of work shop and museum and the incredible view from his patio.  We enjoyed both of them after a lunch at Silver City with my favorite beer and some fish tacos.  It was a beautiful day, a beautiful view, nice conversation.  Later in the evening a coworker from my days at the ESD came by to get the mink stole that my Mom had and we were able to sit on our patio and talk.  There's no view, except of trees, but it is quiet aside from the buzzing of the mosquitoes.

Eventually, I will write about our most recent cruise to Alaska, but for now the blue jays and Hurricane Irene are paramount in my mind.