I’ll admit it, I’m a weather junky. If nothing’s on TV, I set it to the Weather Channel, especially … and particularly … when an epic storm approaches.
Admittedly the last few have been duds but even I can read isobars and figure out this puppy means business.
And the hacienda is looking to be ground central for when that monster roars onshore. How and where it hits will impact what we get. If it’s dead-center we actually get off lucky with rainfall totals but benefit from a nice stiff breeze that will raise more than skirts. South or north: we’ll need yardsticks to measure the deluge. We won’t have tides, storm surge and similar ugly occurrences to fret over, but power outages? Yeah, very likely because the trees still have most of their leaves.
We’re about 70 miles inland, on the Pennsy side, in the ‘lowhills’ buttressing Blue Mountain. That means flooding isn’t a big concern (exclusive of driving around the area) but we are on a knoll so wind damage is likely. The last wind storm took the roof off the girls’ henhouse.
I’ve heard whispers of snowfalls measuring a foot but so far that’s west and south of us. The prospect of a tropical deluge of biblical proportions is quite enough, Mother Nature—no upgrades required.
Leave it to the firstborn to take young master Czar to a competition this weekend, leaving mom in charge of panic shopping (aka ‘provisioning’ for Armageddon) and tidy-up duty. Said competition is over in south Jersey, about 10 miles from the coast.
Add frantic concern to my list of things-to-think-about.
I love this graphic … and yes, I have liquor, wine and beer.
I have books, I have three Kindles fully charged.
Bring. It. On.
Caio ragazzi e ragazze