"Oh great, another night in the pokey," was my first thought. Then the nice officer explained this time it was just a courtesy call.
Today's perpetrator was our fence. You know, the one the locals said would blow down. It blew down. A section of the fence couldn't withstand the storm's 100mph gusts this week and the posts snapped off at the concrete footings. Whole panels were tossed about the yard, in an amazing display of wind power.
I would like to say that no one was hurt, but that's another story. As you may have read, I have been having a very difficult time getting artichokes to grow here. Everyone says, they grow like weeds, but not for me. After two long growing seasons and five tries, I gave up. Hearing my defeat, one of the artichokes sprung forth new shoots and has been growing like crazy just to mock me. I didn't care, at least I had an artichoke in the garden.
Then during the "onshore breeze" which took out the fence, the orange Adirondack chair was apparently picked up, went sailing 40 feet across the yard and landed right on top the artichoke plant. Nothing else in the garden was touched. Just that single artichoke was flattened by the landing--it hurt me more than you can imagine.
Both of our egos bruised, Carpenter Bob has since cleaned up the mess and declared a war on
the elements with a shake of his fist. He has refused to let me publish photos and sits by the fire plotting his next
Do we remind you of people who buy another trailer in a tornado zone with their insurance money from the first one? I was afraid of that.