Emily

Another hurricane is gathering strenth with intentions of raining on our parade. This one- her name is Emily- will likely hit Jamaica and Cayman again. After that, it could hit the Yucatan peninsula or even the our Gulf coast. Reports from reconnaissance flights show that Emily's initial eye was eight miles in diameter. However, the hurricane recently built pressure, recentered herself and has a new eye twenty miles in diameter.
Hurricane Emily will be my role model for the next week or so until her furry is inevitably diffused over land. So far, the lesson I take from her is something about not judging my own capacity for power by how greatly I am feared. I say, let the chickens tremble. I admire her fierce integrity in spite of outside opposition. I also think Emily exemplifies a courageous willingness to reinvent oneself.
As residual mess from the last hurricane gathers and breaks, gathers and breaks in our skies, over our heads, all over our shoes, the domestic pressure continues to rise. As before a really good storm here, the tension has become palpable: a visceral mood of building strife getting ready finally to break. So it's all hard but silent looks, loaded statements, and passive aggression.
Needless to say, our little vacay ended prematurely since chasing geese in the rain was only fun for so long. We continued to swim in the greenish river even after the deluge began until a park ranger type advised us to get out. The lightening and all. Like a toaster in the bathtub. Ah well, we should have kept swimming anyway. Live dangerously and all that. It seemed to me that the lightening was far away anyway. And it was.
Hopefully today will be full of riveting indoor festivities and eventually I'll regain my tan despite the crappy weather.
We shall see.