Thursday, February 2, 2012

In high seas sometimes you can do nothing else but scream and cling to a plastic duck

I’m here.  Perched on the edge of time and life. And I’m very excited, as I have a friend coming to visit.  The plan is to have me pick her up from the ferry terminal at in the early morning on Friday… but a quick look at the forecast and I’m starting to fret.  Pointless to fret really as there is absolutely nothing I can do about the weather other than invest in rubber boots and put rocks in my pockets to weight me down in the wind.  

 Photo      © RiverWalker Arts 

 The wind wails and whistles through the power lines.  I make a mental check ensuring that the garbage cans have been picked up from the street and brought inside – last week I had to go on a rubbish bin hunting mission and managed to find the big plastic green can lodged in the trees at the end of the cul-de-sac.  I couldn't find the lid and ended up having to send DH on a garbage can lid hunting mission.  I have since re-tied the cord connecting can and lid.  As for the bricks I normally keep in the bottom of the can to prevent loss of empty garbage cans.. well it seemed they were ineffective at keeping it in the vicinity of the end of the driveway.   

 Photo      © RiverWalker Arts
'Storm' force winds of 48 to 63 knots are occurring over the strait and seas are currently 6 meters building to 7-9 meters by Friday morning.  While I may not be an expert on weather patterns nor a ship’s captain, but what I do know is that a 9 meter wave (close to 30 feet)  is taller than my house and not something I’d relish floating around in.   So here I sit listening to my baby snore.. and the wind howl…  (I wonder if the groundhog blew away when it popped out of it’s burrow today?)

I’m guessing the ferry won’t sail.. but I’ll cross my fingers and try to think positively…. Like for instance on the positive side of things…  my pipes did not freeze and I have been able to successfully spray the worst of the mud off the dog following her expeditions through E-V-E-R-Y   S-I-N-G-L-E puddle she comes across.  Nose down - mouth open - she ploughs though any water with gusto, mud flying everywhere.  **sigh** I love my dog…  when she is dry and clean and snuggled in the hollow behind my knees. 

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