I called Mom this morning to see how her hurricane preps are going. “Well, I boiled some eggs and picked up a lot of snack foods like potato chips, but your brother has already eaten all of them!” she said. “I’m going to have to go shopping for more!” Heh.
Today, besides being final hurricane prep day, is also Swampman’s birthday. I don’t think his plans for his birthday included clearing gutters, checking roofs, buying feed, moving livestock to higher ground, washing and drying clothes, storing water….oh, wait. That’s MY job. (grin)
HIS job is securing everything that can become a missile in high winds, mowing because the grass is going to be even further underwater tomorrow, covering the tools in the barn that can be harmed if any roof panels blow off, trying to move the huge limbs that came down in the LAST storm that I couldn’t move and it’s been too wet to get the tractor in to move them, carrying some trash off to the recycling place, and, well, lots of other crap. NOT a happy birthday, in fact. But that’s what you get when you chose to be born in August.
I dunno why I keep referring to this storm as “Ivan”.