Hurricanes And Heat

I am having a very hard time posting today because every time I try to write something I am viewing it backwards and forwards and sideways to make sure that it is not taken as a metaphor for anything else because someone I love is a bit kerfluffled with me right now.
No. Not Mr. Moon.
Just one of life's very fancy dances, you know?
So it is Sunday, we are working outside, it is hot and I keep coming in and wringing a cloth out and wiping my face, over and over just like that old mama orangutan in the video I put up last night and I am smiling at that, feeling like she is a cousin and not a very distant one and the beans I planted this week are up and leafing and my hens are cruising around the yard and I am looking forward to the beach and hoping that Tropical Storm Irene doesn't cause us to have to evacuate but going to the beach during hurricane season is always iffy and it is always wise to keep a full tank of gas and an ear towards the weather situation.

The path of a hurricane is never completely predictable or even at all predictable and those of us who have lived through them never, ever take them lightly.

For the best description I've ever read of what it's like to be in a bad one, see what Kathleen had to say here.

Now. Back to the weeds. I will wring my cloth and wipe my face once more before I put my gloves back on and think of my cousins, my sister-apes and then I will go back to work.