My Aunt Irma is coming to visit.
She’s planning on swooping in Sunday and staying until Monday, then she’s headed for Atlanta.
No one wants her. She rains devastation everywhere she travels. She’s a sly one, making you think she’s going to go east when, instead, she veers west.
While she’s here, I doubt I’ll have the chance to blog. She has a habit of cutting off the electricity just for fun, and she’s been known to fry electronics just to show that she can.
My family is so worried. I love them for it more than I can express. They called to offer their respective homes as a place to ride out the storm. That might not seem like much to most people, but I have 6 dogs, 3 cats and I am, most certainly, not leaving my 4-footed family.
Leaving a fur baby to survive on her own when the winds are howling is like locking your 2-year-old in his bedroom and coming back a week later. My family is well aware of my opinion and offered their homes to all my family members.
I’m trying to imagine driving from here to Atlanta or Oklahoma City or Palm Springs with 3 howling cats and 6 dogs that just want to stick their head out the window to enjoy their good fortune. Nope.
I check 4 weather sites. The forecast jumps anywhere from 40mph winds on Saturday and Sunday to 100mph winds on Monday and Tuesday landfall. Yesterday, one site said we were going to get 100mph winds and changed it to 60 an hour later. The next hour it was changed to 80. It’s like watching someone playing baseball with a grenade. You know it’s going to go off somewhere between you and the batter, and you hope that it will explode in an area where there are going to be the fewest casualties.
Worst case for North Florida? 100mph winds for half a day. Best case? 40mph winds for half a day. It’s the difference between having your house blown down with you in it…or insomnia.
Insomnia has never looked better.