We are blessed that Earl was a bust

Inland, not much going on in the way of a hurricane or even lashing rain and wind.  Just gentle rain last night.  A few already brown leaves on the lawn this a.m.  I did all the laundry yesterday and made sure to run the dishwasher, so if we lost power I would be THAT much ahead.  Now, I've got to carry all the plants back outside.  At least the scented geranium is repotted.

Yesterday when we fed the Highland Scottish cows they were very frisky.  I wonder if they felt the storm coming.  This morning the birds are gone.  Where did THEY hunker down?  Cats did not appear to notice anything.  They mostly notice food, grooming, catnip and each other (jealously).  The orange cat insisted on being brushed when I was trying to get the lumps of fur off Thisbe's lower back.  I think she is too fat to bathe back there.  Life's little dramas.

Beautiful fresh morning.  Ah, they should all be like this.  So thanks, Earl, for bringing a welcome rain and not much else.  Down the road, the golf tourney proceeds apace and the Red Sox play twice today.

Spicy fried rice for dinner.  Another great recipe where the whole is much greater than the sum of the parts.
Try this recipe

Cooking  never ceases to amaze me.  Open-faced plum tart for dessert.  We can't find any prune plums this year.  WTF?  I know they're in season, but the stores don't have them.  Lots of Italians in Boston, too.   WHERE ARE THE ITALIAN PRUNE PLUMS?   Inquiring minds want to know.  How can I make my beautiful tart?

Onward to more writing.   This is the most difficult ending yet.

The MAN burns tonight. www.burningman.com  Ah, to be there, on the Playa in the shadow of the Black Rock, with the drums, fire dancers, craziness.  Zowie!

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Hunkering down for Earl

After twenty-seven years in New England, we know the hurricane drill.  It wasn't always that way.  In 1985, when Gloria roared through, I drove to work the morning of the storm to find the office closed.  Ooops!  We watched the barometer fall, and the winds came and of course the power went out.  When the storm was over, neighbors came outside to inspect the damage.  One little boy (and I am not making this up) kicked the hornet's nest that had fallen during the storm.  Bad idea.  So when The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet's Nest, came out, I had a visceral image of the consequences.  The power stayed out for four days.  We found our son's old Boy Scout camp stove and fired up the grill and cooked all the food as it defrosted in the fridge.  Some weird meals, but a) we were well fed and b) nothing spoiled. 

My neighbor went nuts because she had just made a HUGE mass of hors d'oeuvres and frozen them and they were all ruined.  In that house, we had a name brand electric stove that was crap personified, and now we have a nice gas stove that you light with a match if the power is out, and we can cook and cook. 


Nonetheless, we have plenty of water, batteries, candles, lanterns, etc. handy if the situation deteriorates.  And cat food.  Always cat food.  The tortoise cat and the orange cat are still not friends, despite the fact that the orange cat would like to be.  Thisbe (the tortoise) comes around very slowly.  It takes years.  She is innately suspicious.

 The Garden Before the Storm.  Earl, be kind!

I cleaned off the deck and the front porch.  Need to repot my scented geranium.  Have to remember to take down the hummingbird feeder.  Hope my birdies will be safe.  They are so dear to me.  Maybe some fresh nectar to get them through the day.  I have my nectar making down to a science. 

Wondering about the local golf tournament, the Red Sox game and all that stuff.  It's beyond boring at night when the electricity is off.  Best to find a cinema with power.  It's dark at 7:30 and no one wants to go to bed THAT early.  Haven't tried to read my Kindle by lantern light.  Why am I so sure the power will go off?


BECAUSE IT ALWAYS DOES!  

Friends in Florida are emailing "better you than us."  I don't know about that.  Seems a bit schadenfreude-ish. 

Onward, to nectar cooking and scented geranium repotting.  There are worse tasks.   Wish us well.

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