Driving home on Thursday night, I was greeted by a flashing sign:
I keep the bare necessities of life in The Coop; I was looking forward to a few days of isolation and solitude in the midst of the roaring wind and snow. I had even planned a blog post called “Living a la Mode” about the beautiful, ice-cream like snow covering everything. In theory, it seemed like a perfect “dreamer’s holiday.”
Then there was high tide at 10:08 a.m. on Saturday:
The Atlantic Ocean started pacing down the street, just a trickle at first. But since no one has figured out how to fully bridle the oceans, it broke into a full wild gallop. Some people on my street were in a panic and they made me nervous.
I have never had any flooding inside The Coop. Not yet.
Then I saw Anthony. Remember Anthony? I recognized his backhoe immediately and I was relieved. Anthony might not be able to stop the oceans from their fury, but I knew he would do his best to help me and my neighbors. He even took thirty seconds to smile and say “hello.” His “hello” comforted me; it was like being at home and knowing Uncle Bob was just around the corner.
Today is Sunday; the third day of the storm. The weather puppets say the sun will be out so it will be a good day for cleaning up. When I’m done, I am going to take a serious Sunday nap and shake my storm fatigue.
You rest too.