Hurricane Irene

It’s eerily quite.  The calm before the storm.  I’m looking out the window watching the sky darken.  Suddenly a Snap!  I open my second beer of the night.  This time it is a Dogfish Head Punkin Ale.  The crème de la crème of pumpkin ales. 

I have been watching the news all day long hearing about what a huge storm this is going to be.  New York City’s subway system is closed in fear of the tunnels filling up with water from the ocean’s surge. There are mandatory evacuations from the beaches in the metro area. 

I step out on my porch to flip the steaks I have put on for dinner. Sirloin – nice.  There is a light rain falling now.

I walk inside to check on the potatoes in the oven.  Crash!                 My wife throws the empty bottle into the recycle bin.  We are all walking on egg shells, literally, from the hard boiled eggs my son made earlier in the day.  It’s amazing how quickly teenagers can turn a clean house into a garbage dump. 

I don’t know what is scarier, a category 2 hurricane bearing down on New York or three teenagers stuck inside for a day.  God help us if the power goes out and there’s no internet service . . . .