Breezy Times

You remember the times the wind blows like the Devil, and last night was one of those times. I’ve experienced more hurricanes and tropical storms than I ever dreamed, but that was in the tropics. There was that hurricane while I was in Austin; and then that hailstorm in Nebraska that cracked my windshield and threatened the assembled Wagon Train of trucks and campers hunkered down in a Walmart parking lot. I love parking among big trucks, unless it’s hot as Hades and they block the breeze.

BC was hunkered down in her bedroom: the passenger seat, here she is with Boo-Boo, who makes her feel safe. I sleep on the bed above the driver’s cab. The wind had already knocked things over outside which I’d secured; but when the RV rocks I have difficulty sleeping and my mind wanders…

“If it blows us over on our side, it’s not like I’ll be dropping very far; more like rolling.  But BC would be trapped and possibly hurt by the plastic storage bucket on the driver’s seat.  She’d hit the window; and all in all, I’d have a real mess to clean up, if we survived.”

The things you think of in the middle of the night. There’s a big tree next to my parking spot on a precarious hill and we’ve all see those things make mincemeat out of vehicles.  I concentrated on my breathing.

Photo R. Grean

“For Heaven’s sake, the teardrop (parked outside) would blow over before this thing.”  It’s only 5 or 600 pounds; good thing I added all that excess weight when I remodeled last summer.  Plus, it’s become my ‘garage’.

I heard noises I imagined to be this and that, and at one point stuck my head out that little window up top (tree-side) to make sure the hot water heater door hadn’t blown open.  Damn, it was cold.

“To Hell with it; whatever will be, will be…”

Listening to the news this morning I'm not the only one who experienced this Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies weather; and just like a hurricane, the next front’s yet to come.  Could be worse.  Could be raining.

I picked up these unfinished boxes in Goodwill for $1.99 each.  They reminded me of a good friend in Puerto Rico who carved some gorgeous cache boxes, but I couldn’t resist these two, spotted in two different locations.  I imagined some boy or man playing around with his band saw, how pleased he (or she, shame on me) must have been with the finished product. They’d be fun to paint.

It wasn’t until I got home that I realized the box resembled a teardrop, duh; so just like an architectural scale model, I decided to try out the paint job I envision applying to the real thing this coming summer.  We’ll all still be in lockdown so I’m planning ahead for my project, you should, too.

Damn, here it comes again!