We almost got hit by a hurricane last week. We caught the fringes—tropical storm-force winds, feeder bands, squalls—but not the full fury of the storm, which at one point had taken aim at Beach County, my home, as its bullseye. Those poor folks in the Bahamas. They got what we were at one point supposed to get. Thank God (and please take that literally), we were spared.
The waiting was the worst part of what we got. For seven days we were under great tension as we watched the storm grow nearer, grow fiercer, grow nearer, grow fiercer…and this went on and on. It was forecast to hit us dead on. It was forecast to only brush us. Then we were in the cone again. Even my customary two evening scotches weren’t enough to allay the anxiety. And during the scotchless daytime—oy!
It made working difficult. Who could focus on work with a Category 5 monster approaching our doorstep? I kept checking the weather maps, the bulletins, the audio feed from the huricane center—who could work?
Yes, I did get SOME work done, but it sure didn’t resemble my usual output.
I was glad when life could return to normal.
We were fortunate not to even lose power. There was a report of 86 homes nearby that still didn’t have power four days after the storm had passed. Most of the county had no outages, but I feel sorry for the folkks who were affected.
I hope there are no more storms coming here or even threatening us this season.
And I hope I can catch up on my work!