It’s six o’clock so I put on my full winter gear and went down to check out the ocean. Just twenty feet from our house, I slipped! Unmelodramitcally, it was not from the wind, but just because the ground is slick. I went down to the sea wall and stood on a rock to film the ocean. Definitely the ocean is grumbly. I don’t think it’s all out “angry” at this point, but it’s definitely got a scowl on it’s face. I wondered what it would look like when it rapidly deteriorated and envisioned the water as high as the sea wall that it was lapping against. The forecast says that the water will have a wave height five feet over the sea wall. That’s pretty intense. I’m not so sure I’m going to head down there to see it (I actually know that I am not). As I walked home, I saw a person leaning forward into the wind – playing with the strong gusts that swept down 1st – 45 degree angle? No, he was probably at a 60 degree angle for at least ten seconds. And as I crossed 1st very carefully with the gusts threatening to kick my feet under me, I glanced up at the power cords whipping and swinging along their posts and wondered about the smartness of my sojourn. Back home – I can hear the wind outside. We’re doing our dishes and I’m going to vacuum up again – a weird day being so prepared, yet unprepared, and waiting for something to happen. And then I remember that I don’t even have a CLUE what the anticipation is like for so many others living much closer to the scowling, angry ocean. Clarification: “We” were not doing dishes. My husband did the dishes and I sat on the sofa – doing very important things like blogging about the storm!