The wind, it seems, puffs up a bit more with each passing year; yesterday, it was positively highfaluting. Blew our neighbor’s fence right over. Then I was paranoid. Every few minutes I’d peek out the window, just to make sure ours remained upright.
The fact it continues to stand is nothing short of a miracle, truly.
The wind also made for some interesting walking, downtown. The surrounding buildings create something of a vortex, which is a lot of fun to watch (and mock as) others walk through—not so fun to experience.
For example, the minute I walked out of the parking garage, sand blew into my eyes, rendering me momentarily blind, the back of my jacket stood to attention, and I realized, though my feet were making the appropriate movements, I remained in the same spot.
Then there was the hair.
Oh, the hair . . .
Let it be known: I did try. In an effort to corral the mayhem, I braided my hair. Alas, moisture lurked about. That, coupled with the squalls did my locks no favors. Any stranger who happened upon me probably figured me for some sort of Gene Wilder impersonator.
Sad state of affairs, that.
All the same, I was nowhere to be found when the street sign toppled over; I got free beer; and the day ended with Irish comfort food.
Today all that remains is to recover.
Not that I drink a lot, mind. But I have been known to eat my weight in soda bread . . . and that’s roughly the same thing.