While I wouldn’t wish a super-mega-franken-storm and all the aftermath and mayhem that goes with it on anyone, I have to admit something. There is a tiny, itty-bitty part of myself that is jealous. It’s that same devil-may-care self that usually gets me into trouble. Nevertheless, there it is. When I was a kid, I used to refer to her as “The Bad Kim”. Usually this reference came only after that Bad Kim did something horrid, when I was trying to convince my mom that she’d never be back to do horrible things in the future. Ever.
Bad Kim is shaking the bars of her cage. She wants to thrust her head into the leading edge of the storm and ride Sandy’s bowsprit. She wants to feel the beach shake beneath the raging surf and listen to the wind whip through the skyscrapers. Easy for me to say, especially as I sit inside in the Pacific Northwest watching the rain melt away our hopes of an early opening. Just have a look at Sandy’s snowfall forecast:
Closer to home we’re expecting rain. We don’t call these weather phenomena storms; we call them systems. Storm would suggest snow, at least in the mountains. And we are decidedly not getting much of that. Besides, when the mother of all storms is brewing on the eastern seaboard, it’s hardly apropos to call a little wind and rain a “storm”.
Looks like the rain will sluice away that nice duvet of snow we had last week (thanks Corinne for that description). Oh well, who am I to complain? To those of you hunkering down as this behemoth descends, I apologize for my flippancy. After the water recedes and they turn the lights back on, might I suggest a trip to the mountains?