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the eye of the storm

29 Aug

i actually drove towards the eye of irene only hours before it hit niantic, ct.  yes, drove at it.  in the driving rain (no pun intended).  slamming on breaks when the folks ahead were too scared to guess at staying on the highway.  since you couldn’t see squat.  20 mph? let’s try 50, 60 or even 70, people.  i can squint and see moments of the white line or sometimes the yellow.  HOLD THAT THOUGHT.

let me back track.  i live seven houses from the ocean in a quaint little beach community (minus a few hell-beast neighbors, stacy, loud mouth next door, you know who you are) called Point of Pines.  so when i hear we’re due for an ocean surge and sure-fire flooding (not to mention winds upwards of 75 mph) i’m pulling everything off the floor in the basement, moving important furniture and sundries upstairs, and dragging every toy and lawn furniture indoors.  where is my husband you ask?  can’t wait for him.  it all has to happen now! i’m a doer.

anyhoo.  my little angel was with grandma and baba and i had to go rescue him from the imminent danger of irene in ct.  plus, i was gonna pick him up saturday anyway. talk about white knuckling it.  so pick up goes fine.  big d sleeps through the sweaty drive home and then we hunker down for the storm… oh yeah and jakie and charlie come to watch pirate movies and Rio.  hot dogs and fun for all.  then wait for the storm. the storm?  hello, irene?  oh well.  just another storm that i rearranged my life around. that’s what happens when you live by the ocean and are a perfectionist (and believe the hype that only TV and weather dudes/dudettes can deliver).

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