Woke up this morning to the back door blown open, the power and heat off, and the roof leaking. Scrounged up a radio and the news came that PG&E had called off repair crews due to dangerous winds, up to 60 mph. So I hightailed it out of the abandoned westside, by which I mean I inched my way through traffic for miles without hitting a working traffic light, passing trees down, roads closed for flooding. Now I'm holed up at the bookstore, which happens to be in the one corner of town with power. Turns out coworkers had actual stories of woe - a daughter stranded at the san jose airport with highway 17 over the mountain closed due to mudslides, a roof blown off, cars hit by fallen trees. And it's only supposed to get worse over the next day. Still, I have to laugh (a hearty cornfed laugh) at all the fuss over a bit of rain and wind. "The storm of the year!" Ha! It's not even cold. Why, I spent my formative years walking to and from school in feet of snow, ice, -30 windchill. My hair used to freeze every morning, and if I didn't end up on my rear a few times it was a good day. Mind you, it wasn't uphill both ways. Only because there wasn't a hill in sight. Midwesterners don't do for these frivolous changes in elevation.
Ahem... fortunately I got a little househunting in before the heavens opened up, and as of January the 13th, I will officially be a resident of the fine city of Oakland! Oh yes.
Updates of more substance pending arrival of new computer.