You'd think that I'd learn after living in The Land of Thunderstorms for so long, but one gets complacent when one has a ginormous generator that immediately switches on when all the "small people" lose power and must sit sweating and miserable while their frozen food slowly melts.
One must remember that in that split second between loss of power and switchover to generator a little thing called a POWER SURGE flashes through outlets and surge protectors and--NOW LISTEN VERY CAREFULLY--if you didn't unplug your computer . . . IT WILL DIE.
Which is why I've been absent for several days. You might have thought it was because I was frolicking in the surf over at the condo (and yes, they're letting people frolic in the water in Florida, just not in Alabama). Well, no. I don't frolic anywhere where everyone is supposed to wear the crime against nature known as a swimming suit. Had I been able to attend Mick's party I MIGHT have frolicked there, though, since I would've been wearing a dress or rolled-up jeans--from the look of the photos I've seen so far it looks like a MAJOR amount of fun was being had at the 'blanca. Damn it.
Happy note: the post office decided to deliver the box of replacement glass (remember all the broken Fenton milk glass?) at long last and everything was well-wrapped, cushioned and totally intact. Photos to follow.
It's supposed to rain all day today. Woo hoo! Driving on the interstate in pouring rain! With thunder! And lightening! And hail, even! Throw in a whole bunch of tourists who've never driven in that kind of weather plus several locals who have driven in it all their lives but STILL panic, and you've got one helluva recipe for TOTAL INTERSTATE SHUTDOWN. Oh, and don't let me forget the 18-wheelers going ninety for nothing, spewing water everywhere and making it impossible to see even with the wipers going at full speed.
Just kinda makes you want to crawl back into bed . . .