Aarons Beach

These pictures of a sunny Aarons Beach area were taken a couple of weeks back, when I stopped there to take a jog.

It was breezy but warm.

The bay really isn't elevated that much above the shoreline/beach area.  I was using my zoom and this was the result.

I've been behind in my jogging and my blogging here lately.

This week, any down time I had was spent preparing for a possible It's Either Gonna Be Another Hurricane Hazel, A Dud, or Anything In Between storm.  

So far, Hurricane Matthew is only delivering Mathews County lots of wind, rain and high tides.  But, to be perfectly honest, we've had those weather conditions hovering around for what feels like years months now, in spite of the sunny, clear skies depicted here.

I'm off on Monday thanks to the wonderful federal holiday, and I hope to take some pictures and do some more jogging then.

Have a great weekend.

Bushel Baskets

Here are a few random shots from the public landing at Onemo.

These photos have nothing to do with the hurricane which is headed our way.

This is how I cope with disasters.  I casually mention them before taking an evacuation route to a state called Denial, where I ramble incessantly about anything else, such as bushel baskets on a dock.

Before I return to Denial, let me say that I'll post an update on the storm known as Irene as soon as possible after the worst is over, provided we have current (which is the Mathews word for power or electricity).

That update will have nothing to do with bushel baskets--unless that's what I'm using to pick up my personal belongings which have been strewn from here to Richmond.

Dear Richmonders,
If our 10-year-old swing set lands in your yard, you may keep it.  I've been meaning to haul it off for years now and never got around to it.  Enjoy!--Love, cbw

p.s. Here's hoping that everyone in the storm's path stays safe and that bushel baskets will be completely unnecessary.

p.s.s. Click here for step-by-step instructions on how CBW prepared for a previous storm and photographic evidence that we'll probably be underwater here this weekend.

Oh, Earl

Above is a photo of Queens Creek as of 9:00 Friday morning.

So far, Hurricane Earl has done next to nothing in my neck of the woods, however the worst (which includes some high winds but nothing awful) has not yet hit-if you believe what the newscasters say.

(Usually I don't, but I'll be nice today and give them the benefit of the doubt since (a) I am not a weather forecaster and (b) just as soon as I say "Earl is a dud, and so far it's much ado about nothing," he'll pick up strength and wreak havoc.)

Below is an example of the Chesapeake Bay Family emergency preparedness plan, which includes securing the canoe and the rowboat to a dogwood tree.

It's interesting to note that in the event of a Level 4 hurricane (which Earl was at one point), a dogwood tree would likely be flung like a toothpick to Gloucester County, but for now let's not focus on that minor detail. The important thing to note is some thought was given to the boats, however incomplete and flawed that thinking may be.

And so, as of Friday morning, Chesapeake Bay Woman is slightly disappointed in the dud-like quality of Earl. Although she sincerely does not wish harm to any person or property, she does love a good storm. Most people think she's crazy for making such statements, but that's OK, that label suits her well.

More updates on Earl as he makes himself known here.

p.s. If you don't hear from me by tomorrow, it's because we've lost current after Earl got angry when he heard I called him a dud.
*****************************************************

5:00 p.m. Update: It's official. Earl was a dud.

Three Things

Welcome to Three Thing Thursday, where I share three things and you share three things.

Let's go.

1a. Last week on vacation, I almost read an entire book. Almost. There are still a few unread pages left. The last time I read an entire book was probably never when CBS, NBC, ABC and PBS were tuned in via rabbit ears with tin foil and a good swirl of the tuning knob which you actually adjusted by getting up and walking to the TV the only television channels, and drinking from the garden hose was a daily ritual.

1b. In my elder years, I seem to have come down with ADD an affliction which requires me to do things like flip impatiently through read magazines from back to front stopping only to gaze at pretty pictures or a butterfly passing by outside. With books I usually read to about the halfway mark, become impatient, skip to the very last page and then toss the book in the corner never to be opened again. Jane Austen (and Tolstoy, believe it or not) temporarily cured me of this ailment, but she's dead and doesn't produce new stuff, so CBW's reading well is bone dry.

1c. One day a dear friend from college said, "CBW, I've just read a book and you must read it too." Love in the Time of Cholera, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, showed up by the miracles of the flukes and eccentricities of the local post office the Pony Express, and I have to say it is an outstanding book. Although there is still some left to read, 331 of the book's 348 pages have been devoured ravenously. (I did peek at the last few pages though.)

2. A very long day of commuting and working will consume every ounce of my energy time today. As of this writing there's still no definitive word on what the storm is supposed to do.

3a. Whether the storm has an impact or not, I'm going to try not to post for a day or so, simply because there is way too much going on here, regardless of any potential hurricane, and I need to start redirecting my focus.

3b. If possible, I'll try to post over the weekend regarding what, if anything, happens with the storm.

Stay tuned.

Now it's your turn. Please share three things. On any PG-related topic whatsoever.

Have at it.

Hurricane Preparedness

It's time once again for another edition of Chesapeake Bay Woman's Guide to Whatever, which in this case is Hurricane Unprepared Preparedness.

Above is a shot of the neighbor's boat there in the background which is ABOVE the dock the boat house during the last storm which started out as a hurricane on another planet, but dwindled to mere "nor'easter" status by the time it reached Mathews.

(Please pardon CBW while she scoffs at that nor'easter label, then howls with laughter at it, then ultimately sheds a tear or twelve because she remembers that, much like the episode captured above, she has neglected to secure any and all items from her dock in spite of the advance warning last night from her neighbor. Carry on.)

Let's begin.

1. The most important thing to remember when there's a threat of a hurricane is this: be completely ignorant of the shituation as long as possible. The later you find out, the less time there is to panic worry about all those little details such as "How will I prepare when I have to work and won't be home until dark for the rest of my life?" Worrying really does no good. Whatsoever. Ignorance is bliss.

2. If possible, schedule the (possible or probable) hurricane for one of your busiest weeks in the year for your paying job, the onset of the new school year, fall sports practices at two different schools in two different counties and the four thousand meetings they require of parents of rising freshman, as if we're not already gravely concerned with the fact that we just left high school ourselves and now we have children old enough to attend.

To truly appreciate this extra-special experience, be sure to schedule your disaster during a time of trying hormonal changes which render one crying one moment and Tazmanian Devil-like the next.

3. Become familiar with the stages of Hurricane Preparedness which are as follows:

Denial
Disbelief
An entire bag of Gibbles potato chips, family size
Continued denial until they start talking about evacuation plans at work
Disbelief
Still More of the Denial
A hot dog for breakfast, and you don't even eat hot dogs. Or breakfast.
Panic
Irrational anxiety over things unrelated to the hurricane
More potato chips
Anger when everything goes wrong, and it always does (a story for another day)
Surrender Dorothy! (and insert the scary music from the wicked witch who snarls, "I'll get you my pretty!")
Surrender to all of these things out of your control.
Listen to Que Sera Sera as sung by Doris Day.
Cry that you are the only one in your office who has ever heard of Doris Day.
Chips and salsa.
Whatever, there's nothing I can do.
Acceptance/que sera, sera.

4. Whatever you do, learn from your past mistakes which include leaving your patio umbrella in your glass-topped table during hurricane-force winds and ignoring all the warning signs of disaster which included a sideways glimpse of the table scooting this way and that during the storm, when the instruction manual on the table you actually purchased said nothing about scooting abilities.

5. Most of all, relax. Chances are slim to none good--nay, great-- the weather forecasters will be wrong. But just in case, make sure you have water, batteries for a radio and an evacuation plan which includes a one-way ticket to Borneo.

6. Wonder what portion of your brain serves as the attic to store such words as "nay" when you can barely string a sentence together using modern-day words, terms and phrases such as "scooting abilities" of a patio table and "Doris Day."

7. Most of all, don't worry. You're already stressed out anyway, so seven one additional major disaster can't possibly make much difference.

Take a gander at all that shattered glass below the table above. It was a mere eight or so months later that I got around to cleaning it all up, and that was only because I had people coming in for Blog Fest.

Stay tuned for the next edition of Chesapeake Bay Woman's Guide to Whatever, when "whatever" will be "How to fix a camper that she broke--nay ruined--when trying to prepare in darkness for the hurricane that may or may not hit."

The End.