Stormy weather

I had no idea the storm had torn up the town, until just now reading Susan's and Buffy's blogs. Luckily, I had grocery-shopped Monday so haven't been out riding around since then. During the storm, while I was floundering around, all the outside lit up with orangey-red lights, and I thought something was on fire, but decided it was the fire truck going up the road toward Pat's area, so there was probably some damage up that way. My boom box had batteries, for once, and the weather news was straight-line winds and heavy rain. Mo and I mostly stayed in the center hallway away from all the windows and doors until it was over. My electricity came back on soon after the storm.

Last night I had left the hallway lights on, because I can't sleep unless there's a light somewhere. Before I went to sleep, the hall light went off, and Mo and I both jumped, and I thought, Oh no, not again. But then the light came back on.

I can't think of anything useful that I did yesterday. Guess I'll get out this afternoon and look around.

4:00 p.m. I've walked around the lot, got the mail, etc., and didn't see any damage. Was going to drive up Rowan Road, but the Fox News vans (2), and a couple of utility company trucks, went up that way while I was out, and I was kind of scared I might not want to see what was going on. One of my near neighbors, whose lot is even lower than mine, has had a tree blow down on their house twice since I've lived here. But they had finally removed the tree closest to their house, and today I couldn't see any damage down that way.

I called Mary Anne, who lives on Julia Circle, and she said the only damage she knew about up there was a tree down on Lynn Avenue, the part that's close to her. We agreed we couldn't remember Leeds ever getting badly hit before by a storm.

The Mists of Avalon

This is a book to be read slowly, to savor it, and to remember the crags of Tintagel, to remember standing at the top of the rise and seeing the remains of the castle covering acres and acres, with the grass spreading green all between and around. The grass stopped at the lip of the precipice, and the stones went down the cliff to an impossible landing-place in the Celtic Sea.

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When I read this book before, I was calling the castle Tin' ta gel, with a hard g, a beautiful name to me. Imagine my disappointment to find that it was really Tin ta' jel, an unimaginative, unpoetic pronunciation, which took away the magic and left only ruins. I had to get to Old Sarum, to Salisbury, to find any abiding magic, and to Stonehenge for a whiff of horror.

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These are the bests pictures I could find on the internet, and not from the perspective I remember. It's unbelievable that we didn't take any pictures of Tintagel when we were there, but I can't find any.

Spring has sprung...

Such as it is.

This tiny little daffodil, about four inches high, is blooming out on the edge of my front yard, where I've never planted one. It's the only one that has even stuck its head up out of the soil, and everyone else in the neighborhood has crowds of daffodils. Embarrassing.

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I just called Steve Atchison and told him this would be a perfect time to look at the back yard to see what needs to be done--the west side is flooded, and water is in the basement. He said he looked at it the last time we had a substantial rain (when was that?), and that he's right now in the process of putting together an estimate. Said he would email it to me or Jed, and I told him to send it to Jed.

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Also just got back from the P.O., where I mailed a book to an Amazon customer and two to Bookins customers. February has been a dismal month on Amazon; I've only had nine sales.

Bookworming

Yesterday I took time out from The Mists of Avalon and read Kabul Beauty School (which I kept embarrassing myself at the library by calling "The Kabul Beauty Shop"). Some books, and not always the ones you love, seem to get inside your skin and become part of you from then on. The KBS is one of those, and the lingering images from it promise to be disturbing far into the future. So was Kite Runner, which is the reason I quit reading it near the beginning.

Books that don't matter, such as horror (aux Stephen King, Thomas Harris, etc.) and most ghost stories and the like, don't affect me this way, because every word has the author's style which fails to open up the empathetic door into my brain. The KBS is real, written in the author's real, slap-dash, very mod conversational tone, and it gets to you. Well, it would get to you, even if the author's style were different, because it's true. One of the most poignant images is that of the little cow; you'd think there were enough human images to grieve or shiver over, but no, she had to throw in the little cow.

I'm feeling much more alert and less sleepy lately. I'm sure this morning exercise bit has a lot to do with it. I haven't done it absolutely every day, but most days, and it's helping my feelings. The downside is that it, or something, is making me eat more. Seems like I about live from one meal to the next. I do persevere in having oatmeal for at least one meal a day; it's supposed to help keep the cholesterol level down.

Yesterday I received The Mists of Avalon from Bookins, and am looking forward to reading it again, after twenty years or so. The only thing I remember about it is that I liked it. Also, the library is holding The Kabul Beauty Shop for me, and I've got to go pick it up. Hope the lib. is open tomorrow.

Another thing I've got to do tomorrow or Tuesday is to take Wilder to the vet. Looks like something bit him on the side of the head, and it has made a bad sore. (Wonder what the other combatant looks like!) Lots of luck to me, getting him into the car, into some kind of carrier. I may just have to wrap him up in a blanket, or make him a straight jacket.

Happy Day To All!

(Thank you ver' much...)

Carolina Lily

And for lunch, the best corn casserole I've ever made, with crunchy brown bottom crust. For supper, I'll probably have the last of yesterday's chicken soup.

I'm feeling much better today.

Starting yesterday, I'm getting up in time to watch Denise Austin's 30-minute exercise show on TV--and not just watching, but also doing the exercises. Of course, on some of the exercises, I'm a bit slower than Denise and don't last as long. After that, it's to the showers, and then breakfast (oatmeal or dry cereal with skim milk).

This blog award was passed to me by Susan, from Anita at Take Joy. Thanks, Suze! I treasure it.

Also yesterday, my cousin Betty Joyce phoned, and we talked for a long time. The excuse for the extended conversations is that we only talk about once a quarter. She always reminds me of some event or person from our childhood that I hadn't thought of in many years. I'm so glad that she and her husband Charles visited here last year before Charles ("Cooter") passed away in the summer. He was a dear person up until he developed the dread Alzheimer's disease. He and I were once in a math class together at UAB, in which both of us were lost dogs in high weeds!

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I wish people would wait until I get through reading a book before they ordered it off of me! A few days ago, it was Thunderstruck, and today it's Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee.

Tragedies

The storms last night killed at least 50 people in southern states, injured and left homeless many more. This was worse than April of 1974. I feel for everyone affected, and pray for them.

Alabama voters went for Obama and Huckabee. Huckabee doesn't stand a chance; John McCain is so far ahead of the other 3-4 candidates, they can't catch him. Obama will probably win the Democrat nomination; he and Hillary Clinton just about split the delegates between them, although Hillary has a slight lead. But when the remaining states vote at various times this spring, he's almost sure to catch up and probably surpass her. It's just hard to believe. Even Ted Kennedy supports him.

I might have to hold my right hand with my left hand in November, to force it to vote Republican for the first time in my life. I like John McCain, but I'm afraid he's too old to be president. And a Republican victory would most likely put us right back where we are today.

Late this afternoon, I noticed/realized that this is Ash Wednesday. I should have gone to church. I regret not going.

Good weekend

Last night I watched "The Robe" on television. Extremely good movie. Burton was a fine actor, although vertically challenged.

It's almost lunch time; my mind keeps showing me that quart of beef stew in the refrigerator. Then I've got to pack books and go to the P.O.--had three orders this weekend! Jed brought me a big boxful of bright pink bubble wrap. Say that three times.

A Fine Stew

My soup this weekend turned out to be beef stew, very thick and extremely spicy. Thing is, I used 2 cans of diced tomatoes, and one can was Italian style, which means it had garlic and olive oil and all kinds of stuff I can mostly do without. It smelled so strong cooking, I almost decided to take the pot out to the back of the lot and dump the stuff. Sure glad I didn't. It was truly scrumptious. I hate to admit how much I ate.