Remnants of Fred

It's interesting what happens when you underestimate developing disturbances. You watch a potential storm form, look at the trajectory, foolishly listen to early forecasts that say nothing much will come of it, then, a couple days later, act surprised and unprepared when you have an actual hurricane on your hands. I'm not talking Fred. Although the Remnants of Fred is still a phrase I heard on the news last night.  I'm not talking Grace. Although she hit Tulum (& I quote the weatherdude, "That place in Mexico with the pyramids." WtH?!) that first hit as a Cat 1, crossed land (& I guess a couple pyramids, angering the gods) and will hit land again as a Cat 2. I'm referring to Henri. You know, that disturbance that formed off Bermuda, the home of two dimensional pyramids, also known as triangles. The storm flippantly told, "Hello Henri, Goodbye Henri" that is now barreling down on New England, which seldom takes hurricanes seriously. Storms are...

Here we go again...  The most recent storm that passed through had an interesting progression. It began as a disturbance, became a depression, developed into a hurricane, got torn apart over the mountains, remained a storm to be watched, downgraded to a depression, regained strength and was once again a storm, and finally made landfall as a hurricane again, wrecking havoc with tornadoes and torrential rains. The headlines at one point read, "The Remnants of Fred" and I realized how aptly it described me.    I'm volatile like that. And, to be honest, no one really takes me seriously or adequately prepares, only to be caught off guard when I finally make landfall. Yeah, THEN I make news! Fred just sort of became a perfect allegory for what I am currently weathering. (See what I did there?! I can still be clever. And creative. And abstract.)  So, once again, I enter the blogosphere in an effort to chase away the clouds, and fog, and other inclement analogies. I could h...