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Thursday, November 7, 2002

No matter what they tell you, the storm that blew into the North Bay today wasn't just a little rain and wind. It was a little thunder and lightning, plus a lot of rain and a lot of wind. Pulse after sopping pulse of water came roaring down. It was like living in a giant carwash.

On days like this it's best to stay inside away from the idiots and maniacs that turn the local streets into a thrill ride. I managed to get my one errand done in the morning, before the worst of the storm hit. The only other time I walked out the door all day was to tromp through the mud to the end of the driveway and get the mail.

I thought I picked a good time, and I pulled on my heavy Marlins jacket, but by the time I got back into the house I was soaked through. My Levi's are comfy, but only when they're dry. There's hardly anything less comfortable than a pair of wet jeans. And after all that effort, the only mail I got was junk that went directly into the recycle bin.

The noise of this storm was incredible. Early in the day I thought it was just the roar of the wind blowing, but when I saw the streak of lightning come straight down from overhead I knew I'd been hearing thunder as well. The wind was as loud as a fleet of jets flying too low. Every so often one of them would land on the roof and rattle the rafters. (This is quite a feat, since I have a peaked roof.)

At times this evening I felt as if I was living in a dollhouse, with a gigantic child shaking me back forth.

None of this affected me much, as long as the power stayed on. I plowed through my work day as usual, except that every so often I'd be drawn to the window. I couldn't keep myself from just standing there staring at the rain and wind, with the birdbath spilling over and the trees bent sideways. Mom called this morning and Suzanne late this afternoon, and each time as soon as I answered the phone they asked if I had electricity.

I didn't lose power until halfway through Survivor tonight. The lights flickered and I lit a few candles just in time. The electricity went out and came back on three times, but thanks to TiVo I only missed about seven minutes of the show. But still, seven minutes is seven minutes. Just as it came back on for the last time there was an announcement that at least one Bay Area bridge was being closed because of the high winds.

The news crawl also reported that thousands of homes were without power. Living in one of them, I wasn't surprised.


The day before the first winter storm. Soon all this brown will be green again.

It's been two hours, and I still haven't reset any of the clocks. (So how do you know it's been two hours?) Random numbers are flashing at me from all directions, and that doesn't even include the VCR that doesn't have a clock display but tries to keep track of the time anyway. When the power goes out, it forgets what time it is. I have to remind it, along with the answering machine, the microwave and other devices, including the little radio that tries to wake me up every morning. I have one clock that I keep up in the loft that I haven't bothered to reset since the thirty-seventh time it went off last winter.

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Latest recommendation:

Alvin, Water Lilly Alley, November 7, Thursday's Deal

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One year ago: Oversold
"I have deer bounding through my garden, and hawks soaring overhead. It's like living in a Disney cartoon."

Two years ago: Do We Have Enough Lifeboats?
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