Archive: August, 2011
Spent the morning riding shotgun with a Montco roofer-philosopher who was sealing basements and unclogging gutters. Got pretty wet while holding his ladder so I could get a storm column in tomorrow's paper. Saw lots of deer knee-deep in water that a day before had been fields. Saw lots of crumbled stone walls and yellow police tape and severed tree limbs and insane dog-walkers who got duped into thinking Irene had left.
She's pretty much gone now, though. It's all over but the singing. And the clean-up. Cue Ry Cooder.
President Obama, who’s learning quite a bit about disasters of all sorts, says Irene means we must hope for the best but prepare for the worst.
So I immediately inspect my emergency supplies.
Clearly, you've got to mix yourself some Hurricanes.
Here's a recipe:
- 2 oz light rum
- 2 oz dark rum
- 2 oz passion fruit juice
- 1 oz orange juice
- ½ oz fresh lime juice
- 1 Tablespoon simple syrup
- 1 Tablespoon grenadine
- Garnish: orange slice and cherry
Shake all ingredients in a cocktail shaker with ice and strain into a Hurricane glass filled with ice. Garnish with a cherry and an orange slice.
In a winter storm, people prepare for French toast: milk, eggs, bread.
In a rarer summer storm, how to people prepare? By buying batteries, and perhaps an extra bucket for the basement.
Now that weekend plans to the Shore have been scrapped -- correction, all plans have been scrapped -- what's the best way to amuse during a hurricane? Cards? Campfire singing and stories without the fire? Working out by hauling several hundred buckets of water from the basement?
Until yesterday, Irene was a faded ‘80s diva with the last name of Cara.
I danced right through my life barely aware of the weather forecast .
What a feeling.
For when the storm is at your door. Nils playing Neil. With a solo that gets you somewhere else, fast.