Susan Dennis (susandennis) wrote,
Susan Dennis

Nobody does foreplay like a hurricane

In the olden days, the weatherman (who was, back then, always a man) would say there's a hurricane coming sometime maybe. People would buy bread and milk and hunker down. Then maybe it would come and maybe it would not. Sure, they were devastating back then but without so much hubbub.

Now the weather person says on Tuesday, the hurricane will hit land on Saturday at 3:14. And you know it's going to be a killer that milk and bread will not scare off. Or maybe you'll get lucky. But, meanwhile between Tuesday and Saturday, all the forces around you are hell bent on making sure you feel no calm or safety or security or comfort. Ugh. Hurricanes are the worst and I'm 3,000 miles away from even the potential of one.

Here we have cool and cloudy and lovely. We even had rain last night. The a/c is off and the door is open and the cats are fascinated by the street sounds. Just now a dumpster truck is doing its dumpster thing. They can't see it but they can hear it.

The treadmill, turns out, accumulates data. It does not go back to zero. So combines all the miles, all the time, etc. which is kind of funky. I can reset it but why. It's a boost to know I've been walking for an hour instead of just 30 minutes. This morning, it actually did not feel like a chore. It felt good. At least the first five minutes. And, as long as I was there, might as well do the rest!

Today agenda is a mystery. I am pretty sure there will be laundry and some sewing. Maybe the start of a new shirt. But, also, I might leave the house. I might make a dropoff trip to Goodwill. For sure I will take a shower and get dressed.


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