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Dorian is inbound. Bottled water is gone from the grocery stores. Gas lines are hours long, and every gas station I’ve seen today has a police patrol car stationed at it, probably to encourage civility. People are putting up shutters or boarding up their windows.
The problem with Dorian is that the cone covers a huge part of FL. Hey, man, don’t tell me you can predict “climate” 40 years out when you can’t even predict the path of a hurricane four days out.
We did our hurricane shop last night — which was the coolest hurricane shopping I’ve ever done. The lovely and talented Mrs. Mongo and I shacked up the list, pulled up the Publix app, and boom! Two hours later the driver showed up with our groceries. Who can do that in a socialist country? Well, maybe if you’re a Party bigwig.
To get out of harm’s way, we’d have to leave the state, so we’re going to ride this one out. Hopefully, we’ll be catching bands of winds and rain, but not suffer hurricane effects.
I wrung some fun posts out of Irma, but I have zero desire to work through that sort of devastation again. So Labor Day is going to be less a happy holiday, and more a hunker-down-and-pray kind of weekend. Too, we’re in our “cozy” house now (the lovely and talented Mrs. Mongo decreed that I have to say “cozy house,” not “tiny house”) so that’ll be fun.
The silver lining is that I’ve got a bit of a wee story I’ve been mind mapping for a couple of weeks without lifting a finger to actually, you know, write it. Maybe this’ll give me the time and motivation to post another story.
If I have internet. And electricity.
And a house.