Good Morning my Anonoumous Friend

And how are you this Sunday morning? All is as usual here, rain, gloomy skies, damp seeping into even my hair roots!

I think I’ve mentioned the wind tunnel effect we have here all the time, even when the wind isn’t blowing anywhere else. It frequently blows the door open with a crash and has blown one tiny woman down, only laughable after the fact since she could have been injured under some circumstances. As it was she took a couple of stumbling steps before losing her footing completely and ending up on the ground.

A few days ago the wind did a number on one of our doors, blowing it open with so much force it broke off and the glass shattered into what looks like a million tiny pieces. That door is now shut off from use, kinda taped to some upended tables that are heavy enough to get the attention of people who normally ignore signs. I’ve wondered many times how a door like that stay in one piece and now have the answer — they don’t!

We have a lot of glass in the ground floor of the building. Personally I keep the shades closed when it’s blowing because I’ve always been worried about the glass blowing out when the 60 – 70 mph wind hits the building with a sound that can only be described as like howling wolves. So far none have been blown out since the tornado in January of 2000, but it sounds like a tornado at times when I’m sitting here in the dark. Those are the times when I hunker down and try to fall asleep under as many quilts as I can pile on myself. I suppose I should go into the bathroom where there are no windows as the weather service usually suggests during bad storm weather conditions but since I can’t exactly pick my recliner up and take that in with me I prefer the comfort of the moment to the safety of the “might happen”. My way of living on the edge lately.

Thursday will be Thanksgiving Day, and this year it will be so different from all other ones in our lifetimes. Under normal conditions I would make the traditional dinner with turkey and all the trimmings, but this year I’ll heat up a TV dinner and eat in front of the TV. After all, these dinners were invented back in the ’50’s for that very purpose. No one enjoyed leaving Jack Benny or George Burns and Gracie Allen to sit at the dinner table and have a conversation that always drowned out the sound of the dialog in the living room. My grandmother introduced them to me early in the game. I usually would run across the pasture to her house after we had lunch at home and spend the afternoon with her. She had a TV several years before we got ours, and I would help her with the lunch dishes and we would then go into the living room and watch the original soap operas, with the soap commercials that gave them that title.

I’ve enjoyed this little visit, but the time is near to tune in to my brother’s Mass. Later, my friend. I’ll see you later!

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