Irene Who?

The scary predictions. 

The 24/7 news. 

The adverbs.  "Horrific."  "Historic."  "Devestating." 

Power outages could last as long as a week. 

Tension building by the hour.  I found on where the Weather Channel was on my TV; had never watched it before.  Weather.com was locked in on my laptop.  Four two-galloon water botles in the trunk of my car.  Canned foods loading down my cabinets.  Lots of Starbuck's bottled coffee to fill in for the week that my Keurig would be out of commission.  Cell phone fully charged and waiting.  Patio cleared of anything that could possibly be blown around and sent through my bay window.  Pre-cooked meals that would be edible cold, if necessary.

I'd overlooked nothing.  Do your best, Irene.  No boy scout experience, but nonetheless I'm prepared.  Beyond prepared.  Even two small bags packed.  One for me, to cover at least two days if I had to take up the offer to go to friends who had a generator, the other with food supplies for me during that time (so as to not use up their limited supply - plus some additional boxes of Kraft's Mac & Cheese for their boys).

Bring it on, Irene.  You don't scare me. 

My internal clock must have taken in all the information about the timing.  Irene was schedule to "hit" NW Connecticut at around 3am.  I woke at 3:30.  It was raining and that was about that.  Turned on the Weather Channel and saw that it was still on its way.  My thinking was that I might as well stay up and welcomg Irene when she arrived in full dress and if I stayed up for the next several hours I'd be tired enough to go back to bed when the electricity went.

Finally went back to bed around 10am - with electricity flowing through every lamp and appliance.

It's now about 2pm and it's raining.  Not that hard, but it is raining.  There appears to be a gentle breeze blowing through the trees and flowers.  There are maybe 20 to 30 leaves scattered around my patio. 

So, allow me to paraphrase the Thane of Cawdor,

National meteorology is but a walking shadown, a poor player
That struts and frets their hour upon the channels
And then is heard no more: it is a tale,
told by alarmists, full or sound and fure,
resulting in nothing.

Let me say that I am by no means intending to take lightly, or to diminish in any way, those that have been impacted by Irene.  It's just that it was clear to those of us who paid attention on Tues, Wed, Thurs, Fri and Sat that we were all going to die on Sunday!