Smartie's Bar & Grill #62

My neighborhood in Houston has had things relatively easy so far. Monday (I think it was Monday) we had a massive storm with sustained wind that split apart several trees and uprooted several others in the neighborhood. Then to cap that off we lost electricity for three days. Anyway I went outside with a tree cutter's bow-saw as did a neighbor a few houses down and between us we trimmed back enough of the fallen tree limb sections so that our street was no longer blocked, though one passenger car went over part of my front yard to get past WHILE I was trimming the tree branches back. Sheesh!

So . . . the interesting bit was the power outage because it turned out that the utility pole in my backyard more or less supplied power for the houses on our side of the street and since the pole itself was about seventy years old part of it was rotted just enough to snap during the heavy winds, but since the power company came out and investigated at night they assumed that the culprit was an old and huge oak tree in our backyard and so they called up a tree trimmer company contracted to the city which in turn showed up at three AM outside our bedroom window and spent until six AM 'trimming' our tree with chain saws. It was interesting to try and get a few winks of sleep with that going on. Actually it wasn't the noise of the saws that kept waking me up, though, it was that every once in a while they would shut down and then these strangers would talk to one another . . . a sound guaranteed to jar open a home owner's eyelids at night.

So -- wait there's more! -- they clear out in the morning leaving about one third of a formerly huge oak tree residing on our grass and garden plants in large bits and pieces. Now I have one day to tramp through wet grass and over almost muddy ground to drag all that stuff from the back yard around the side of the house and across the front yard to the curb While the soggy ground IS now turning to nearly ankle deep mud beneath my work boots because the next day will be heavy trash pick up. So here I am in my late fifties with the temperature getting up by mid afternoon to 90 degrees Fahrenheit in the humidity capital of the nation and . . . okay I will admit it . . . having fun.

I mean, what a lark, eh? So with the timely help of a neighbor just about half way through that project we got the job done. Easy-peasy. A lot of Houstonians have had it waaaaaaaaay worse than we had it, and they have my sympathy.

 

Hopefully the worst is over, darlin. Although i hear y'all are in for another round tonight.

 

Ha! I simply compare it to the aftermath of the last Hurricane we had tromp across Houston. 14 days without power then and fallen trees everywhere. This has been easy street in comparison, but other Houstonians have had it bad this time around. Mostly I am simply happy that at my age I can still cut wood and haul tree limbs and small logs. The day will come when I won't be able to do that. Of course then I will be the ancient geezer sitting on his porch and pointing the trembling finger of blame at youngsters in their late forties and early fifties and saying, "You call that working hard? I call that hardly working! Why in my day we had to . . . " Something to look forward to . . .

 

Absolutely and in my opinion it's the perfect way to approach life itself. Live large, live hard, do good, enjoy the hell out of it 'til you can't, and then find a way to enjoy it anyway.

 

I, on the other hand, believe in hiring somebody else to do the dirty work so I don't mess up my nails.

You people hire out cheap?

 

It's been How Long ? since the last Hurricane. Um ... 9 years.
If Ike was a Hurricane no one ever told me about it.

I wonder it there's ever been a Hurricane Michelle.
Or Hurricane Barry.
Some things are better left to the imagination.

 

The last one to hit Houston was Hurricane Ike. That was in 2008. Bad news was Ike.

 

Good Morrrrrrning! I sympathize with all you Texans, and you might think this is no big deal, but I just gotta share. Went to work last night at 10:30. Temp was 56 and a little drizzly. Went to break about 5:30 a.m. and the wind had picked up a little. Left at 6:05and got home (1 mile down the road) and all I saw was bent trees and whitecaps on the bay. Temp around 41, but feels a hell of a lot colder than that with the wind (NE about 18 m.p.h.). I live about 90' from the water and there's nothing between me and the bay but grass, so when the folks in town get 30 m.p.h. wind, I get 45! There are times when it just howls all day long. Still trying to figure out a clever way to keep from losing my flag-lost 4 in the last 2 yrs. and I think one of them made it across Lake Huron and into Canada! Oh, well, at least no yard work for today. And I really hope you guys down south are doing O.K. Well, the electric blanket (and SWMBO) should be warmed up by now, so off to beddy-bye.
Enjoy!

 

I confess that I love wild weather and wilderness, and so I envy you a bit. But can't you just see a puzzled Canadian home owner going outside to find what's left of a U.S. flag plastered to the side of his home? "The Yanks are invading!"

 

Precisely so; and of course that's the difficult bit. Put hanging out with good people with excellent attitudes, definitely helps.

 

We emerge from our igloos from time-to-time and make a fortune cashing in American beer cans various storms have strewn about, and smile knowingly when the forecast is "a large Canadian high" for any region south of the 49th.

Here, we struggle these past three months, it is boring. It has been in the mid 50's at night, and high 60's low 70's day side, inland, less here along the sea since late march, virtually no rain for weeks. If we are very, very lucky we might have a lightening season again, as here in the pocket of the Coastal Mountains, we seldom get electrical storms.

Now, about that large Canadian high...brownies and a latte for breakfast on the beach.

 

" . . . brownies and latte for breakfast on the beach." Sweet! I've always been inclined toward beach combing myself. It's fascinating to discover what has washed up on shore after a storm. It's just that I never get to do that sort of thing nowadays. Work, prepare for work, and work some more. On the other hand at least there is work; and so it goes . . .

 

20 odd years ago I had the fortune of renting in Vancouver's Kitsilano neighborhood....

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kitsilano [the Vine Street photo is two blocks due west of me, looking north at the Inner Coastal sub range]....

the Haight Ashbury of Canada, then a Yuppy enclave amid cheap apartments in modified homes and low rise buildings with no elevators. Over time and because of rent controls, I now live in one of the high end neighborhoods, of the most of expensive city in North America.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kitsilano_Beach

This article does not do Kits Beach, four blocks north and 300 feet lower than me, justice at all, it is ranked as the 6th best beach in the world. The beach "combing" here though is much different, likely any early morning stroll will deliver some lost hash oil; if there before the maintenance staff you will likely never have to buy sun block. For some strange reason there is always an abundance of women's underwear left over. And, a small army of metal detector heads scoop some fine jewelry off there. Being in an inner harbor protected by an island nearly the size of England not much washes up.

However, take a day trip to Vancouver Island's west coast and you will scoop all many of items, a lot from the Japanese earth quake still. I used to have a fine collection of glass Japanese fishing net floats.

When I moved here, Kits Beach on any given evening would fine gatherings of young professionals, medical workers, engineers, computer programmers, journalists and lawyers making fires and cooking weenies, smoking dope etc. Now they bust you for the fire, but let the pot go.

 

I'll offer up one word; magnificent! No . . . make that two words -- sigh!

 

Ah Pa Tooowey. A Hurricane has ever right to blow it's stack.
I wouldn't trust a Hurricaane if'n it got skittish.
BTW who decides the gender of a Hurricane .... Father Nature er what.

 

It's spelled " Yuppie " for Young Urban Professional.
Whereas guys like Allen Ginsberg were Beats or " beatniks ".
Got it.
Now ... get thee ... - On the Road - Jack Kerouac.
BTW ... Johnny Depp sucks at being a Hunter Thompson acolyte.

 

Well, it used to be solely up to the national weather service and them being mostly male most of the time, named hurricanes after women under the principle that -- depending on the male's perspective -- they were changeable and made certain that if they paid you a visit you would never forget them. Then it was decided that this was either being unfair to women or not mean enough where men were concerned -- darned if I know -- and so now it's a flip-flop naming process; male to female to male and so forth. On the other hand the winds are still very big winds and the rain is still lots and lots of very hard rain and the aftermath is still just as grotty as ever. Sooooooo . . . no net change.

 

Actually, this area is billed as the Walleye capitol of the state, and they do bring in a lot. Unfortunately, I don't have a boat anymore so I can't get out on the bay, but I can just walk across the street to the channel and catch panfish and bass all day long. The thing is that I don't eat fish, unless you count shrimp, lobster, crab, etc., so when I do score I just throw them back for the next person. I use an ultralight rod, so even a good size crappie will give you some fun.
Enjoy!