“There’s a storm blowin’ up, a whopper. Just speakin’ the vernacular of the peasantry.”

I spent a rather ominous weekend at the beach. The wind was OOC and though I know I promised that I wouldn’t use those abbreviations that, IMO, are totes ovs… but OOC is the only way to describe it. So there you go.

My dad warned me about the wind as I was driving to Fenwick Island (FI) Friday night, but he’s prone to over-exaggeration, I’m prone to random bouts of ADD, and so excuse me for forgetting and, furthermore, not taking the warning seriously. All I know is, I should have.

The drama started when the wind damn near took my left foot off. I opened my door – the wind closed it on my foot. Awesome. That felt good. It then knocked me over NOT ONCE… but twice as I made the olympic journey from car to house (about 8 yards? 9 yards?). I scraped the crap out of my knee (same place, both times) and it all reminded me of the Richmond days… and wouldn’t you know that it’s election day in Virginia on Tuesday?!??! Life all comes full circle, doesn’t it? (vote for Katherine Waddell!)

Okay, back on track. Fast-forward to 2 a.m. when I was trying to sleep, but couldn’t because there was something banging up against the beach house. So, I got up, when out side, and stepped in about a foot of bay water (in a location AW & JB lovingly referred to as “Lake Jackson” this summer). So my pj’s were temporarily out of commission and I was forced to go without them that night. Which would have been fine, but I didn’t have a spare, and it was v. cold that night. Why not put the heat on, you ask? Well, my anxiety prevents me from sleeping with the heater on (propane, electricity… it’s all too risky), so there you have it. MJ was cold and cranky.

When I woke up in the a.m., I was ready to conquer the wind, once and for all, and guess what? It stopped being windy. So I guess I won by default. Excellent.

Not the most interesting thing I’ve ever blogged about, but nothing that interesting happened to me this weekend. It was basically just relaxing, reading, drinking, wining (not to be confused with whining), and sleeping. Oh, and shopping. All good, all fun, but nothing crazy. It was nice, and needed. Definitely needed. Sorry it’s lame to read. But it’s better than a YouTube video with one quasi-sentence, right?

Countdown to Mexico vay-cay: 6 days and counting…

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One thought on ““There’s a storm blowin’ up, a whopper. Just speakin’ the vernacular of the peasantry.”

  1. Funny you should mention the dangers of propane (see my blog)…Also, are you going down this weekend? Sarah and I will be down in Bethany, hopefully sans wind.

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