Cry Uncle

I can handle days of rain.  I can deal with snow on the ground.  Most of what Nature throws this way does not  upset my equanimity.  I'm not ashamed to say, however, that the wind scares me silly.  Like a flood, there's nothing to be done to stop it and the results can be devastating.

It was a pretty gentle rain on Monday.  Yesterday wasn't too bad for most of the day.  I brought more wood to the porch and, believe it or not, I finally took down the Christmas tree.  It felt like  there were as many branches to take apart as there were on the ground in the pen (but I am prone to exaggeration).  It makes me sad to see the change in my skyline with the loss of the vulture tree.

Just about sundown (I'm guessing because there had been no sun all day) the wind hit like a freight train.  The forecasters had said to expect a pretty good storm, but that it should slacken sometime after dark.  They were overly optimistic.  Furniture on the deck has been moved from here to there and continues to bang against the rail.  Even with the comfort of Bess, Ralph, and Celeste, it was hard to get to sleep last night because I kept listening for falling trees.  The tarp on the woodpile is weighted down with heavy logs.  I just hope I don't find it in the next county this morning.  Like it or not, Truck has to go to the shop today.  I'm not looking forward to driving on Omo Ranch Road; it's infamous for downed trees.

I am shocked, but most grateful to still have power.  I made sure yesterday to charge all things battery powered just in case.  If we keep electricity, I'm going to bake cookies today.  Beau called in the afternoon and said when weather permits, he and the kids will restock the porch rack, and I'd like to repay their kindness with something tangible.

Enough already, Nature.  I'm crying uncle.  Please quit with the wind.