Writing is a solitary pursuit--the imagination guiding the hand moving the pen. I'm pretty old-school, valuing the work of good editors and the revisions process before letting my words go public. But life is short, right? And sometimes, just sometimes, we need to spout off.

About me...

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A writer, mother, teacher, friend, I love books, blizzards and beaches, music from Hildegard von Bingen to the Beatles to Bonnie Raitt to The Brood; I love medieval churches, red wine, creme caramel, and roasted beets, and walking the woods and coastlines of home. 

Friday, September 3, 2010

Hurricane preparedness...

Okay, Earl. Wherever you are. This time we're waiting--unlike in '03 when your pal Juan hit. Subway train wind roaring through the backyard, trees crashing on my roof. Then, I said it would never happen--that is, until his eye was overhead. This time I'm prepared. Sort of. Which is to say I've got water freezing in my freezer, and a new flashlight, and battery-operated lanterns--with batteries! Laptop is fully charged, cupboard has canned beans. Cats are acting weird, but that's nothing new.
What is new is how you and your buds remind us how the rest of the world lives. How disasters can be just a breath away.
This year has been especially full--not with your kind as with your distant relatives.
Earthquakes. Floods.
Not that we can compare. Not as I cut a sampling of late summer flowers: dahlias, cone flowers, golden glow--and contemplate a leisurely drive down the coast to watch for breakers.
Not as I stockpile an extra meal's worth of chicken off the bbq, contemplate grunt from leftover blueberries in the presently operational fridge.
Who knows where you'll make landfall. Like some pissed off explorer sick of the bad food at sea, maybe ridden with scurvy for all we know.
Avast, ye swab!
The trees await you, uncomplaining.

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