Frances, as a tropical storm, is upon us. We're at the outer edges. The wind is topping out in the 50s and comes in bursts, is not continuous as you've no doubt seen on TV. We've also had very little rain so far, which is fortunate. When the ground gets very wet, the soil (or sand, such as we have here) becomes a slurry, or emulsion, in which the tree roots have nothing to hold onto. But we can see from the radar that heavy rain is on its way.

Amazingly we still have power. Three transformers have blown in the neighborhood, but not ours. A friend only 7 blocks away is in the dark. A tree has gone down in the next block, and the asphalt shingles on the house across the street are beginning to flutter in the breeze and blow away. This is the home of an elderly lady and her daughter, and it is probably the newest roof on the block. Obviously this should not be.

There are four homeless people with us, three men and a lady. They've been here since around 11 this morning. Our attitude this morning was that everyone would sit out the rising winds here, expecting Frances to blow over by evening. Wrong! Frances has only increased in intensity since then. Now we're being told that this may continue into Tuesday. So there are six of us, and a dog and a rabbit. The dog is whining because he's been put in the bathroom to chill, and the rabbit just doesn't care so long as he (she?) is left to hop around unnoticed.

Since it occurred to me that I may have houseguests for some time, I also realized that I'd best start fixing something for us to eat while there's still electricity. Fortunately, there's plenty of pasta in the house, and we should be just fine.

As it begins to grow dark, I'll be breaking out the bourbon soon. If we can't turn this into a party, it's probably not worth doing.