And Then This Happened...

So in Part Two of "I didn't see this coming!" it looks like the Gulf coast near where we live is where the now Tropical Storm Debby, soon to probably be Hurricane Debby, will be landing. Like- on Monday. 

Glen and I are going to pack up and go home tomorrow which sounds ridiculous- drive into the storm? and yet everyone who lives in a hurricane-prone area knows the feeling of wanting to be at home to protect their property which is of course the most ridiculous thing imaginable because the only damn thing you can do is secure your outdoor plants and furniture and so forth and hope for the best while huddling inside as far away from windows as you can. 
Jesus Christ. 
I am not feeling real good about this one. My go-to weatherman, Rob Nucatola, who is NOT a drama queen about the whole forecast thing had this to say in his latest update: 

"As of now, this is NOT MICHAEL or KATRINA. But it is serious and we should be ready for whatever comes. We will know even more tomorrow and will update you then. Hopefully I'll have better news in the morning."

For him, those are strong words.

Now watch us get home and there'll be an evacuation order. Jessie and Vergil and the kids are getting home tonight, just in time for the season's first storm. I know that Vergil wonders why in the world he ever agreed to move to Tallahassee with his bride.

I'm still not feeling back to normal. I get tired very easily and that frustrates me but I realize this may continue for awhile.

This has certainly not been the trip I thought it would be but up until this storm came into the picture, it's had a certain sweetness of its own. But now I'm feeling anxious and overwhelmed, I guess, but one step at a time.

And on top of all of this, a man I had known very well and loved dearly, died a few days ago. I feel ashamed to even talk about him as I have not seen him in many years but I met him when he was the husband of a woman who was my closest friend for quite awhile in the eighties. His name was James and he was a guitar player. He went by the name Mississpy James and he was an amazing guitar player.

He was a quiet man. He mostly let his guitar speak for him. But when he did speak, he always had the drollest take on things, always had a good joke. One of the only jokes I know is one he told me. He wasn't into histrionics when he played, he didn't make faces like he was in pain, he looked just like you see him in that picture. He wasn't a flash guitarist, trying to amaze and astound and impress with his runs and and crazy fretwork. He told me once that it wasn't the notes you played, it was the notes you didn't play that mattered and so his guitar sang and cried the blues and made you shudder and weep and wonder. He was from Mississippi. He was sweet as his playing. He was thinner than a blade of grass, thinner than a barber's razor and every molecule of him was there for a reason. I think he taught every guitar student in Tallahassee and the surrounding area who wanted the best.

I am so sorry he is gone from this earth.

*************

A little while ago I walked down to the community dock where Glen was fishing to watch the river at sunset.

This is my white-sand road.

The sky looked like this.

A couple came down to the dock while we were there with a fishing pole and a gig, hoping to find some snook. After some hellos and so forth, the man said, "You should have seen this river back in the day." I said, "I was here in the sixties. When do you mean?" And he shut the fuck up. I was catching fish off the dock there before he knew where Florida was.

One more sleep in this sweet little cottage and then back home where hopefully this storm named Debby won't wreck us all.

I will report in when I can.

Love...Ms. Moon