That Old House

Happy Anniversary to us,
Happy Anniversary to us,
Happy Anniversary to us . . .
Hey.  Hey!  Where are you going???

In a couple of hours, my husband Howard will head to
New York City, on this our 33rd Wedding Anniversary.

I will not be in the car.

He will be staying tonight and Sunday night at
the London NYC Hotel, with its Gordon Ramsay restaurants.

I will be staying at That Old House, with its

non-perishable cans of soup and its graham crackers.

This is what happens when you work in the news biz.

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After 33 years, Howard is a wise husband.

Upon his return from a hunter-gatherer trip this morning, he put these in my arms:

a dozen red roses from my favorite florist, Charlie at Dickerson's in nearby Dover.

Charlie told him that he was the 5th or 6th person buying roses today.

Odd.  What's romantic about hurricanes?

They are gorgeous!  Thank you, O Husband of 33 Years.

See you Monday night around ten!

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So about that Irene. . . 

at 8:15 this morning my brother called from North Carolina, where

he and his wife have a waterfront home in the Inner Banks;

their power was out, and the water was over their dock

and creeping into the yard.  I haven't heard from him since but

we are assuming no news is good news.

My other brother and his wife live in Tidewater Virginia.

We spoke just after 11:30. They still had power.  Fingers crossed.

And us? We had a teeny spatter of rain on the sunroom roof at 12:05.

Little spurts since then.  We'll be fine.

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Yesterday, New Jersey's governor Chris Christie explained,

in blunt New Jersey fashion, what people along the shores should do.  

And he is right.
While the effects of Irene may not be as bad as they might have been, there are no guarantees with Nature.
It's that old chestnut:  Better safe than sorry.

Enjoy your Saturday!  If you are under Irene, hunker down, and God bless.

Remember that things can be fixed or replaced; you can't.  -- Cass