Whew! So much was packed into the last week I feel like I’ve done lived it twice.
Hurricane #1: Little did I know this overpriced airport delight would be the precursor of a storm-tossed week. If I’m a-flyin’, I need some settling spirits so that all that turbulence—excuse me, “unexpected rough air” appears to be the politically correct terminology du jour—doesn’t make them have to haul me off that school bus in the sky in a straitjacket.
Hurricane #2: At about kickoff on Saturday night, in a hotel room, all by myself a zillion miles from home, Armageddon struck. This hurricane raged in my innards clear through Labor Day. An inordinate amount of quality porcelain time and four pounds later, I think it’s pretty accurate to proclaim this swamp drained.
Hurricane #3: As you can imagine, I’m none too chipper when I finally make it home (of course there was an episode in the sky…Sorry, Delta). My laundry room looks like it’s been hit by Hurricane WTFudge. I have my suspicions, but nobody will own up to the dastardly deed. Somebody helped me out by creating a tower of unfolded laundry on top of the dryer. Turns out, it was unfolded wet laundry. Apparently, the piling was too taxing on the guilty party, so it just got left as is. Now, Gentle Reader, I live in the DEEP South. We have humidity indoors down here, especially this time of year. By the time I could get myself off that throne and into Maytag central, that laundry was soured like a week-old dishrag.
Hurricane #4: Hurricane Gordon, a bona fide hurricane, blew through our region this week. It reminded me of a real nice guy by the same name that I went to grade school with. I don’t know whatever became of Gordon. Perhaps I’ll look him up. Fortunately, the hurricane damage at the farm was limited to a few downed limbs and a flooded steel pond. School was let out a day and a half to keep folks safe. That provided me the opportunity to recuperate from the intestinal onslaught I suffered earlier in the week!
I think 4 hurricanes in one week is pretty much my limit.