--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.
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