Storm Surge

Ironically, the buckets to flush the toilet are not due to Sandy but that stupid blown well pump. Despite major efforts to rectify the pump's demise yesterday in the face of the burgeoning hurricane, closures of plumbing supply houses and highways prevented completion of pump replacement. But we never lost electric power...
The wind sang and shrieked and pushed and pulled and threw assorted sticks, branches and other leavings. I'm sure we all experienced some aspects of that hilarity! But we played Scrabble and sipped gins and tonics and slept like babes. I had some truly peculiar dream about James Taylor proposing marriage to me and saying how he had wanted to marry me since the first time he saw me (when I was like 12 years old). I kept suggesting reasons why this was just not feasible (like I have been committed to Bob for over 20 years and I never liked folk music in the first place and James Taylor liked cats and I liked dogs...) Plus James Taylor kept trying to serve me odd milky drinks in strangely shaped plastic cups. Weird.
Anyway, we're on course to repair the pump today. Wish us luck.
The next posting will begin the saga of pump repair. Stay tuned..