Storm Watch: And Finally, Depression

Erika apparently couldn't handle the 10,000 foot mountains of the Dominican Republic and Haiti. It seems to have broken up and degenerated into a mere tropical depression that will now sweep over Cuba and out into the Gulf. There's a slight possibility it could reform once it's out over open water again but, odds are we'll just get a lot of windy rain from the west.

The State of Emergency has been cancelled.

Sanibel Islanders who got reentry passes can keep them for possible future use.

The South Florida Water Water Management District had announced plans to lower the water levels in their canals over the weekend. No word on whether that's still on or not.

Looks like we'll just have to file away our amazing survival stories for another time.

Storm Watch: Well, That Escalated Quickly

Our thoroughly corrupt, Tea Party governor has declared a state of emergency in advance of Tropical Storm Erika.

I have no respect for this man who should be behind bars and would be if the 1% stopped covering for each other but this was probably a good idea, all in all. Mind you, we still don't know where . . . or if . . . Erika might hit us. It was forecast to go north of Puerto Rico and then turn up the Florida coast. Instead, it moved south of the island and is expected to cross over Hispaniola which might kill it thanks to the mountainous terrain. If it does survive or reform after the Dominican Republic it will be further west before making its northerly turn which means a much better chance of hitting the Florida mainland and of being much closer to us.

In fact, the most recent predicted track, assuming Erika survives Hispaniola, puts the center of the storm directly over us before noon Monday.

The state of emergency activates the Florida National Guard in addition to preparing the way to apply for federal aid. It also gives the media a handle to help focus people's attention. Considering how little experience a lot of folks down here have with cyclonic storms right now, that's probably a good thing.

Police on Sanibel Island have begun issuing re-entry passes to residents (orange for homeowners, blue for businesses) for use in the event the island needs to be evacuated.

Of course, Erika might not survive the Dominican mountains. It might not turn at all but go straight into the Gulf of Mexico. But it's already killed a dozen or more people so better to be over prepared than under.

Storm Watch: The Tempest or Much Ado About Nothing?

Our local newspaper and NPR station have begun issuing storm "notices" regarding tropical storm Erika. "Notices" has to be the least threatening, most benign sort of warning possible. Essentially, they're tracking the storm giving expected arrival times along the predicted path: US Virgin Islands, Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic. They have not yet predicted a landfall on the mainland.

I understand the early concern. It's been almost exactly ten years (minus two months) since the last hurricane, Wilma, hit Florida and there are literally tens of thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of newish arrivals here who have never experienced any sort of cyclonic storm before.

Erika is supposed to be off the coast by Miami sometime Monday. Current projections call for a northward turn that might take it up the coast (either on or off land). If that's the case, we should see some winds and, probably, a fair amount of rain although we've been getting plenty enough of that on a daily basis anyway, thank you very much. For the last couple of nights we've been directly under small, short-lived but incredibly intense thunderstorm cells with continuous close lightning and wall rattling thunder.

If, however, Erika doesn't turn, it will cross the peninsula directly toward us and we could be on the receiving end of a small but very real hurricane.

Freakout!

The littlest cat, Mittens, the tuxedo cat clone of her mother, likes her privacy and will disappear for most of the day, sleeping in closets, boxes, behind books, etc., mostly coming out for meals. (Despite this, she is a friendly kitty and, almost every night, accompanies me down the hallway to my room when I'm ready to retire, climbing on the furniture, changing the discs and/or tracks on my CD player, knocking over books and begging to be petted.)

Yesterday afternoon, she was in my brother's room napping in a large twine-handled, flat-bottomed, paper shopping bag, the kind with the store's logo printed on the sides. Unfortunately, when she woke up she tried to exit the bag through the twine handle which was big enough to accommodate her head but not the rest of her. She turned so the rest of her was outside the bag but couldn't figure out how to free her head.

So she panicked.

She ran.

She ran around my brother's room, around and over his bed, knocking clothes on the floor. Around his easy chair, spilling another bag containing empty aluminum cans awaiting recycling. She ran out into the living room, dragging the designer bag around her neck, spilling a couple of Mom's ceramic vases (miraculously not breaking them), skidded across the coffee table scattering magazines and newspapers, up one side of the couch and down the other.

The more she ran the more the bag flapped behind her and as it flapped it turned and as it turned the twine noose tightened around her neck scaring her even more.

My brother chased her as she crashed through the dining room and flipped a chair over. The other cats scattered.

We finally cornered her in my room next to my easy chair she loves to claw, under the table she hops on to preen for my attention every night. My brother held her still, wild-eyed and panting, while I carefully untwisted the bag and pulled the handle over her head. She was so traumatized she didn't even notice us laughing our heads off.

As soon as she was free she made a beeline for my closet, climbed a couple of boxes and hid behind my shirts. She stayed in there for a little over two hours. Her mom and sister came into the room a couple of times and just sat by the closet door. It was nice to know they were concerned.

We shall have to wait and see what lessons, if any, were learned.

The Community Library

The lady collecting signatures on the petition to include medical marijuana on the ballot (again) for next year's election was out in front of the library all this week, sharing space with the Christians who are something of a permanent, although, as far as I can tell, ineffectual, presence.

She has a nice homemade-looking display on her card table and says "Hi," to everyone walking in. When I stopped to talk to her she said she just greets everyone entering and only engages them on the way out. I told her I probably wouldn't be leaving until closing time so, unless she was planning on hanging around until then she should really talk to me (and a lot of others, too) every chance she got. She admitted she hadn't considered that possibility and wasn't planning on staying that late so I signed the petition right then and there. For the record, the initiative won a majority last time but, since it's trying to amend the state constitution, needs two thirds of the vote to go into effect and "only" received about 60%. The main sponsor, a very successful ambulance-chasing law firm, vowed to try again and so . . . here we are.

Meanwhile, inside, the notice for the ayurveda yoga classes has been replaced with one announcing the upcoming tai-chi sessions.

The Christians, despite a professional looking literature display just seem to sit out in the heat and talk amongst themselves.

The Recurring Architecture of My Dreams: Part 2 The Adult Years

So, those were my childhood dreams and the beginnings of fixed-place, lucid dreaming.

My adult recurring, lucid dreams occur in three locations:

The first is an overcrowded bus zipping along a narrow, forested mountain road somewhere in the Andes (where, for the record, I've never been). We're travelling fast on a downhill slope, mountain to the right, sheer drop off to the left when we fail to negotiate a sharp right turn and go sailing over the edge high above a city of jumbled low buildings with red tile roofs. I distinctly remember the first time this happened, part way through the fall thinking to myself, "No. I don't like this at all. Let's back up and try again," but couldn't and woke up just before impact. The second time, I did succeed in rewinding the scene a bit and became more successful at controlling the fall and the accident with each subsequent iteration. I haven't had this particular dream in years, now, and suspect it's because there's no more challenge left.

The second dream has no specific action but takes place in a large, dark, multi-story wood-frame house (at least it's all unpainted wood on the inside, I've never seen the outside. I assume it's in the Federal style) which is essentially a hollow cube with balconies on each floor running completely around an open, empty, atrium-like core. There are numerous wooden doors on each floor all the way around. I've only been in a few of them but, with one exception, they are all dark and empty with wooden floors and walls and, inevitably a secret panel behind the far wall opening on a warren of hidden passages allowing me to access almost any other room of the house without being seen (which is important for unknown reasons). The exception is a door that opens into a suite of bright, airy, cheery, sunny, interconnected rooms with numerous windows, comfortably furnished with tables and chairs, flowers and pictures, and suitable for entertaining company on a summer afternoon. No one, however, is ever there.

The third dream happens in a casino. This casino is set in a large open field surrounded by thick forest. There is a single road in through the woods which then circles the casino and leads to a large separate parking garage. The casino itself is ultra modern, three or four floors of polished wood and aluminum in the form of an oval, itself encased in a wider oval of glass in a steel frame. There's maybe a thirty foot space between the inner (wood) wall and the outer (glass) one. There are no windows or other openings in the wood casino walls except for the doors which I have never opened. I have neither been in nor seen the gaming floors. However, between the inner and outer walls there are a number of lounges, bars, restaurants, etc., reachable by escalators between floors. There are people here, unidentifiable background extras, but people nonetheless. They are all well-dressed. The only restaurant I have been in, unfortunately, is the buffet on the ground floor, where I waited in line for typical buffet fare and had a hard time finding a table. One time, I found what I thought was a restroom on the ground floor that turned out to have, in addition to a bewildering array of facilities, an extensive locker room, all arranged in a symmetrical array of dark, carved Gothic stone pillars, alcoves and passageways. And once, I started my journey to the casino from several miles away on a typical American highway, several lanes of fast traffic bordered by strings of neon-lit strip malls and "fast casual" chain restaurants. Night was coming on and the sky was purple with a bright orange sunset afterglow on the horizon. I turned left across traffic down a small lane into the woods and thence out to the casino which was bright against the dark sky and forest.

The reason these have all come back to mind recently, is that I may have started a fourth location, although it is still quite undefined in comparison. Twice now I've dreamt I was looking out a standard size window opening (there is no frame or glass) in a wall made either of concrete or stuccoed cinder block. Outside the window is a long, thin pole, much like a flag pole. I can see neither the top nor bottom. I can reach outside the window but not far enough to touch the pole. And climbing it is some sort of ghoul. This thing is almost human size. It's skin is made of dark gray leathery patches sewn together haphazardly, all except for its face which is pinkish-orange flesh sagging and folded as if melting. It has large eyes (can't recall a color) over which its eyelids droop. It has a long melty nose. The first time, I managed to reach out and push the beast back a bit, but in the second dream I missed and it crawled up out of sight.

All things considered, I'd rather hang out at the casino (or in the sun room).