--I have disasters on the brain this morning, and I'm not sure why. Is it the constant backbeat of discussion about Syria? Is it the fact that we're having a very quiet hurricane season?
--I spent part of the night dreaming about potential disasters. I dreamed that I joined a group of friends on a very crowded beach, even though a hurricane was headed our way.
--We drank wheatgrass margaritas, which seems like a disaster of a different sort.
--On this day, in 1965, Wikipedia tells us, "Hurricane Betsy made its second landfall near New Orleans, Louisiana, leaving 76 dead and $1.42 billion ($10–12 billion in 2005 dollars) in damages, becoming the first hurricane to top $1 billion in unadjusted damages."
--When I swam in the ocean Thursday, it was cold. Our Atlantic is often like a warm bathtub deep into October. I'm hoping that the cooler water is a good sign.
--But I also know that late season storms, like Hurricane Wilma, have done all sorts of devastation. But the water felt warmer that year.
--Do I also think about disaster this time of year because September 11 approaches? Last year, I was at a retreat planning session, so I wasn't thinking about anniversaries as much.
--Or maybe I'm feeling the cumulative impact of the bad news of others. So many people I know are having a tough year: medical diagnoses, deaths of good friends, children with struggles, chronic unemployment or underemployment. Last year was a year like that for us, so I feel that pain.
--But I feel a sense of good fortune, because so far, if I've managed to just hang on, times do get better. I'm an odd mix of Apocalypse Gal and Pollyanna.
Best Essay Collections of 2017 by Women Authors
6 months ago