Hurricane "Flaunce" is on the way

Cookie is a bit perturbed.

It's hurricane season, and we all know what happens during hurricane season.

Plans get ruined.  The wind blows. Tree limbs come down.  There is flooding.  And people die.

That's what really sucks.

People die because they think they can ride it out in places too damn close to the shore.

The Husband and I will watch House Hunters where "Allison and Dick are looking for that very special forever home on the beach."

And?

We all know that "Forever Home", a term that Cookie thinks sounds childish, and "on the beach" are two phases literally at war with each other.

"Allison" is the one who wants to kick off her shoes and go from bed to beach to shower.  Dick wants a dock for their boat.

State Farm sure as hell isn't going to insure them if they do this in Ocean City, Maryland.

Inevitably, Dick or Allison will - at some point in the future - be shown on the national news, picking up the waterlogged pieces of their lives and saying things like "It's all gone." And "oh, look, a picture."

And the worst part for Dick and Allison?  They voted for Trump because they too don't believe in climate change.  In their hearts, they know that Hillary did this to them.

No, they did it to themselves.  They bought the dream without even a clue that the reality could slam into them at 100mph sustained winds.

So Cookie gets angry because he understands the lure of sunrises over the Atlantic and the carefree beach lifestyle.

But Mother nature really hates it when you get in the way.  Remember Jennifer Lawrence in Mother? She wants you out of her house.

But I also dread hurricanes because they also wreak havoc with those of us inland.  Trees come down - in reality, most of these trees that come crashing down are the trees that are only standing out of habit - they are all rotted inside, and are a hazard.  Wires and poles come down as well.  And the dogs hate going outside to a pee.

I can't blame them.   I wouldn't enjoy taking a poop in fifty miles an hour winds either, especially if I were nine pounds.

The biggest inconvenience for us will be the run in the grocery stores, usually the 48 hours before the storm.  People panic buy - they are like a plague of grasshoppers on a grain field.  They will strip a grocery store of everything but Tang, pine nuts and capers.  Ugh.

And "since you all now live in the south," our neighbor Eva Mae Makenzie pointed out today at the market "it's not Florence, like the city; its Flaunce, like a lady, do."

Seriously?

"Y'all worry too much, and the weather after a storm is always delightful," she reminded us.  "The sky's are their bluest.  Hurricane's are Lady Nature's way of clearing the miasma of summa for crisp fall days to come."

Well, if you insist.

I'll have to haul out my favorite Hurricane movie, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, which means I get to spend time with Sister Woman.  Sometimes, you have to find the silver lining in every miasma choked cloud there is.

Then there are the people who will start with "Oh, LAW! Surely 'Flaunce' is a sign of end times!"

Still, my troubles are nothing compared to what all those Dick's and Allison's are expecting.  I hope they have enough sense to get out as soon as they can.  For as much as I love to hate them, I don't want to see anyone gets killed in this storm.

The second reason why I am perturbed?  because my favorite writer of all time, Florence King is dead and won't be around to enjoy this storm that shares her first name.  Miss King, a spinster and proud of it, would have enjoyed this moment.  "Spinsterhood," she insisted, "is powerful.  It is why men name their motorcycle's Virago, their luxury cars Cressida." 

Just remember folks: Things can be replaced, people can't.

Miss King, This is in your honor: