When I finally emerged from the house after days of being stranded in the storm, this is what I saw. This scene was two houses away, and pretty much my nightmare. I parked my car far out in the open, but next to the house, but no one could have seen this one coming. As I made my way around the corner, and saw this car smashed like a grape, I just stood in the street mumbling, "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!" Then I looked across the street to see another car ruined, a late model Cherokee Jeep, with a huge limb from the same tree poking out of the windshield. It was like a crime scene, the poor thing was covered in a sheet. From the photo you can see the huge piece of sidewalk the tree's root system took out, but not the fence it destroyed. Wow, this is as close to hurricane force winds as I ever want to experience. Meanwhile, being stranded in my apartment was rather productive. It consisted of much working on writing, loads of ironing, closet cleaning, the re-watching of Borat, Bad Santa, and episodes of Arrested Development, and the completion of two paintings. That's about all I can take of this, though. I have to get out of the house. No surfing or biking for days is not good for someone so close to the edge. Next, I am off to the basement to write letters to the editor under a bare bulb. Wait, I don't even have a basement.
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