In case you haven't heard, there is a tropical storm pretty much parked in the Gulf of Mexico right now. One morning I wake up and it is headed to Texas. The next day I wake up and it is headed straight for Florida. I've decided there's just one thing to do. Don't wake up.
Storms aren't new for us. We've lived in Florida for over half of our marriage. I've hunkered down for tropical depressions, storms, and quite a few hurricanes. Each summer we buy jars of peanut butter and jugs of water (to wash down the peanut butter.) We have packed up the pictures and the pets and evacuated on more than one occasion. Storms are part of life on the gulf coast. So, you'd think I'd be used to it by now.
Although I don't think this storm will be a big one (what do I know?) I feel a little unprepared. As I type this I have only half a jug of water and a partially eaten jar of Peter Pan. Debby doesn't seem to be the kind of storm which warrants a power trip to Wal-mart, but my OCD personality wants to be prepared. To tell the truth, if it doesn't start moving, we may need an ark. Believe or not, Wal-mart doesn't sell those.
May I just say that every time I read or hear Tropical Storm Debby I can't help but think of the line in Despicable Me when Gru tells Miss Hattie about his fictional wife's passing. And then I laugh a little to myself. Don't judge me for my word associations.
Despicable Me is one of my all-time favorite movies. When we were living in New Mexico, daughter and I watched it during a snow storm and ate chili with fried potatoes in place of watching the Super Bowl. I have no idea why I just shared that, but you are welcome. If you've never tried fried potatoes over chili, you don't know what you're missing.
So here we are in not-so-sunny Florida, waiting for Debby to go away. Meanwhile I think I just might make chili and fried potatoes for dinner tonight. It seems appropriate.
It's a lot better than half a jar of peanut butter and a jug of water.