It would appear that we dodged a bullet. A bullet that as Mr. Peenee said had a sissy name anyway, Gustav. Thanks to everyone (Joe, Kitty, Peenee, Scooter) who was and were (not countin') concerned.
I was never really worried about fitting Gustav in but sometimes a temperamental storm can take a little jog to the right scraping by as it makes landfall. All storms are different and behave accordingly which makes them hard to judge as to the best fit. Gustav to me had a small tight eye with a large outer band of pelting rain and whipping wind. As a result of his angle of approach he skimmed me very lightly giving me sporadic sprinkles. Producing an exquisite, "Devil beating his wife effect", which felt like the sun shining while it was raining.
My hurricane party was a rousing success! People were being turned away by the droves. Inside the house was crammed with clusters of conversations debating various recent disasters. Outside the disco ball kept slipping and crashing up the dance floor. The night was filled with electricity and anxious behavior and that saved these people some disaster money. Honestly a hurricane is better than drugs, why take em when you’re hopped up on hurricane vibes. It really gets you high!
I’m afraid that I have just drunk the last of my hurricane supplies. I’ll need to put in an order to the bootlegger for refills. We have more storms brewing, Hannah and her sisters are out in the Atlantic and that of course means more parties. Ike and Josephine will be stopping by soon. For now I’m going to slip into an old fashioned bath and relax but you know what? It’s expensive filling my bath with old fashions.
Cheers
