You could call it that. It was just plain old blustery in Cowtown Tuesday. Winds to 55mph. Rain about 3 inches worth in town, 8 inches on the lake.
The tree next door was one of the casualties of the storm. She went down for the count. City workers came and cleared everything to the edge of the owner's property - on the far side of the sidewalk and left the rest for him to clear.
We drove out to the lake twice, once morning once evening. The morning check yielded dock lines that needed tightening. They had been stretched by the constant up and down bobbing. Several boats had broken loose. A couple were swamped. Morning rain was driven sideways by the 55mph wind and stung any part of the body exposed to the elements. It was really something. Blustery. Violent. Both of those.
I drove home soaked to the bone thinking that an investment in foul weather gear was a must. A half pint of water could have been squeezed from the jeans I had been wearing. When I walked water squirted from my New Balance sports shoes. Bob was indeed saturated.
It really was no bother being so very wey. What's a little water? Actually it was kind of fun. It took me back to the days when I walked that mile or more home from school. Leaving school I was a dry kid but once home I needed to be hung up and drip dried.
I like being out of doors. A job outside would definitely be to my liking. I hear the Mexican drug cartel is hiring people to work outside either as cultivators or hit men. You get to wear a sidearm and sometimes carry an AK-47, too. That's right up Bob's alley.
Working with plants for the Mexicans might be my thing. I'd use leaves off of the plants for my famous spaghetti sauce. It would have to have a new name. Instead of Bob's Christmas Pasta a name like Bob's Maui Wowee Red and Green Sauce Pasta would be definitely more fitting.
I'd prepare the new recipe to my fellow workers. After dinner my new friends would probably want to get out a pinata and be festive after dinner. We could play shoot the tail off the donkey. Or maybe my worker friends would just want to crawl around on all fours and howl at the moon.
Damn, that sounds like a lot of fun.