We know she’s out there
Churning on the horizon
Her name on our lips
Feverish dervish
Frantic dance for the ages
Spinning tirelessly
Irma, we feel you
Whatever slights you’ve suffered
We will bear your pain
Tag: blogging
Not that Desperate
Doright Manor where I reside with my husband of forty one years, is in a rural neighborhood about ten miles west of Tallahassee, Florida. We have a Havana, FL, address, but we are only slightly farther from Tallahassee than we are from the little town of Havana. On most days I drive into Tallahassee at least once to walk, shop, or sometimes to take in a movie.
The knowledge that Hurricane Irma will hit near us early next week has me feeling antsy, and even though I’ve already shopped for supplies I began to worry that I might have forgotten something. So yesterday I drove over to see the movie “It!” and followed up with a trip to a Publix grocery store.
My hope was that I could purchase some canned meat meals, such as tuna or chicken with crackers and mayonnaise, that require no refrigeration. I’d looked a couple of days ago, but the store was completely out of those items. The clerks thought they’d get some more in before the storm, so I deemed it worth a trip.
Here is what the canned meat aisle looked like:
I wasn’t even a little bit tempted by these delicacies:
Canned squid! Who knew? I just know I’m not that desperate.
The store was busy, but the mood was generally buoyant, even though now it looks as if Tallahassee will get a bigger piece of the storm than was previously predicted.
Studly Doright and I still aren’t sure if we’ll evacuate ahead of Irma. I’m leaving the decision up to him. I call him Studly Doright for a reason, so I’m in his capable hands.
Please send good vibes out to all those in the direct path of the storm, especially to one of my British blogging friends and her husband who are vacationing in Florida. They had to evacuate the Keys and may have to go to a shelter in Miami if their hotel has to be vacated.
Thanks for reading. I have absolutely the best followers. Peace, people.
These Americans
We once had a dream
Outrageous and oh so near
The heavens stretched wide
Malignant fears grew
With a pen’s stroke, hope seemed dashed
Editing lives
Calling on giants
Defend these youthful dreamers
These Americans
Irma
Hurricane Irma is barreling down on the U.S., and I have to tell her she has really bad timing. I doubt she cares.
Here at Doright Manor we’ve stored up gallons of bottled water and my favorite survival snack, Little Debbie oatmeal cream pies. I have a pantry filled with canned chicken and Vienna sausages and enough cheese crackers to get us through the first hundred days of a zombie apocalypse. Now, it’s just a waiting game.
There’s still a chance the storm won’t hit us at all and might veer into coastal Texas, which is still reeling from Hurricane Harvey. As much as I don’t want Irma to come through here, I don’t want her messing with Texas even more.
Right now Irma is a category 5 storm, and anywhere she makes landfall is going to suffer tremendous damage. The projections we are seeing show that when she reaches Studly Doright and me in the Florida panhandle she’ll still be a category 1. Many things can change still, and we are praying she’ll weaken considerably before she reaches land.
Praying for the best, but preparing for the worst. Don’t be cruel, Irma.
Hurricane Watch, September 2017
Irma is coming, and she’s nobody’s favorite aunt. We’re watching her closely here at Doright Manor in Havana, Florida, and contemplating our options.
A Facebook friend from Melbourne, FL, sent me a link to a weather website that allows one to view a storm’s projected path and wind speeds in three hour increments.
Just type in a location and the animated map will indicate when that area might be impacted and how long residents might be dealing with the brunt of the storm.
Below is the projection for Havana from late Sunday to early on Monday:
Pretty cool, huh? Of course these are all still projections.
If Irma had a heart she’d just dissipate and go frolic as some lighthearted waves in the Atlantic. Go away Irma! We have nothing you need!
Be prepared and stay safe!
Peace, people.
Light
A matter of time
Everything boils down to this
All things fall away
Raging storm, dark clouds,
Nothing will last forever
Light permeates all
Dreamers, hold on,
We promise to fight for you
Looking for that light
Totem
Totem pole bottom
Weighed down by crows and warriors
View never changes
Lofty intentions
Brought low by circumstances
Hardly moving up
Change doesn’t come
He remains the same old wolf
Underneath it all
Who Indeed?
Who would she have been
Rooted in the old home soil
Victim or victor
How life has changed her
Honed and toughened, awakened
She’s nobody’s pawn
There are those who prey
Others seek in vain to shame
Who would she have been?
Laundry
Normally I take on the task of doing our laundry on Mondays. With just two of us in the house these day the once dreaded and seemingly unending chore now only requires a couple of hours of my time. I actually enjoy doing laundry now.
Studly Doright did quite a bit of traveling this past week, both for work and recreation, so he dumped a suitcase full of dirty clothes on the bathroom floor this Sunday morning and then asked if I’d mind doing laundry this afternoon.
“No, I don’t mind at all,” I said. “But why do you need for me to do laundry today?”
“I’m changing my name to Laundry,” he quipped and ducked out the door before I could throw something at him.
Risk vs. Reward
She’s not bullet proof
But neither is she fragile
Words wound, but don’t kill
Risk versus reward
Glomming onto a spotlight
Falling in shadows
She could double down
Accelerate the damage
Or wave a white flag
Praying for Eyebrowz 