Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Don't ask us how, but we came through the storm without ever losing power. The house is intact, and the basement is dry.
When the hurricane passed by, about 50 miles to our south, the winds were the worst I can remember. The lights flickered a few times, but in a moment they came on again.
After dark was the scariest. We could see flashes of arcing all around us. At one point I went upstairs, and I heard a tree crack and fall at the pond in the next block.
Watching the t.v. today, I'm seeing big trees down on houses and cars that could be mine. Random, random. I'm not going to sit here and brag on bored gods that protected us here. Who protected the fundamentalist Christians two doors down?
I have blogged before about the hubris of "shore front property." People around here pay high six figures for fancy homes right on the beach. I'm sorry, but my sympathy does not extend to them. During this storm I heard the term "barrier island" used for the very first time on television. Barrier islands exist in order to buffer the mainland from the wrath of hurricanes. Build on them at your own risk. Is your fancy beach block house now six feet deep in sand? Don't blame a bored god. Blame your own bad judgment.
Anyway, Snobville's trick-or-treat has been rescheduled for Saturday. I'm not complaining. Less distraction for meditating. My immediate ancestors are dazed and confused. I must talk to them.
Blessed be to all, and forgive me for my opinions on shore front houses.