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The winds are whipping through the old oak trees in our back yard, where they relentlessly howl and sway back and forth as if pleading for their lives. Their pleas have gotten louder and louder by the hour, to the point that I'm deeply concerned both for them and our recently repaired pool screen -- and I'm not typically a worrier. It's loud out there.
What's most troubling is that the wind isn't even supposed to be at its worst for about another six hours. Jeanne has the ferocity of Charley and the size of Frances, which is the worst of both. I've heard at least one explosion in the neighborhood, and I'm shocked we still have power and cable.
With the two previous storms, I was at work, in a large, institutional, windowless office that blinded me from the fury outside. I'm home for this one, and I can hear and see everything going on in my yard and house, which is testing my nerves.
Kitty is resting comfortably on my belly as I type this. Amber -- who's (mercifully, in a way) deaf and can't hear the chaos going on outside -- and the BF have managed to fall asleep. But I can't.
Current mood: Worried