Sandy Thoughts With Watery Conclusions

The thrill continues, living along the Atlantic Coast after years of mile-high living against the Rocky Mountains. At times I hardly know myself. I feel almost like a different person since we moved here earlier this summer.

from the Internet

I wear Bermuda shorts and flip flops nearly every day, and my hair has grown past my shoulders. I wear long dangling earrings to where I hardly know myself when I catch a glimpse in the mirror. I even used a brown rinse to cover the gray hair. Beloved said the other day, "You look like a million bucks!"

from the Internet

Yesterday we drove to the beach, not to swim, just to look at the water. I love to do that. (sometimes we don't want to fool with the sand on our feet)

from the Internet

In addition to the horrible Hurricane Harvey out on the Gulf Coast and in Texas, there has been a storm #10 (as the weather casters call it before it becomes something more serious, which this one did not) out in the Atlantic.  Blessedly, it only came within about 300 miles of Savannah and then turned to chug its way back out to sea in a northeasterly direction. 

the view from Joe's Crab Shack

But even that disturbance caused our beaches to have dangerous rip currents. Local television told us to not go in the water, but of course the surfer population considered that an invitation to go anyway. The waves were too much to resist.

stuffed shrimp wrapped with bacon on dirty rice
(I shared my Hush Puppies with Beloved since they were not gluten-free)

We had lunch again at what has become my fav seafood haunt on the beach. This time we ate outside under a tin roof at the bar on stools so we could see the waves crashing on the shore.

from the Internet

As much as I love visiting the beach, and how dearly I would love to have a blue-and-white wood cottage nestled among the sea oats on a sand dune (or should it be buttercup yellow?), practicality runs too strong in me. Lessons observed from this week's news reports about the devastation along the Texas coastline tell me I could never sleep easy if a storm were to form while I slept in my beachfront house.

Here in my new hometown, there is much on the news about hurricane preparations, and especially since Matthew did some serious damage to the city pier when he visited last October. 

We have been directed to a map of our county that shows which areas of the city would need to evacuate first. That is a sobering picture, but we are thankful to see our house is in a fairly safe area (all things considered, of course). 

We have stocked up on gallon jugs of water (1 gallon per person for 3 days for both drinking and bathing), the pantry is full of canned beans and fruit, we know where the flashlights are along with additional batteries, and a weather-alert radio sits atop the entertainment center beside the TV. (note: there is no need for me to stock up on tp. Beloved tells me I'm always overstocked with that.)

We've even talked about how if things got bad enough, we could move certain items to the second floor, and if it got worse than that, we could climb out the upstairs windows to stand on the porch roof to attract the attention of a helicopter to rescue us....

See where the mind goes?! "Earth to Barbara! Come in, please!"

from the Internet

Truth be told, there is no place on earth that is completely safe from disaster. We do our best to prepare wisely, trust the Lord, and go on with our lives.

I am still oh so glad to be here.

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