Neighbors reaching across the aisle to neighbors. The Marine across the street grills the chicken and Bingley makes the alfredo sauce.
My ‘wake-up’ phone picture (keeps forgetting about the time difference in his camping enthusiasm…)
yesterday ~ with the admonition, “Tell them we still survive!!!” ~ was “eggs-in-a-frame” à la Weber.
Of course, this morning, I hope he had a good feed. He’s sitting in the 38° chill at the Belmar Ferry terminal. Said the berm that protected it is completely blown away and the terminal itself is full of sand. On the way in, he saw horrendous lines at the few gas stations that were open, so all the more reason the use your full tank (Remember? We said FILL UP/TOP OFF?) wisely in the coming days. NO LOLLYGAGGING. He’s also equipped with a flashlight, because they’re opening his office building so he can get paperwork out to work from (his cellphone plugged into the ashtray in the car at) home.
The flashlight is for the TWENTYFIVE FLOOR JAUNT he has up to his office before he actually gets to root through what he needs.
I hope he’ll still have oxygen in his brain when he gets UP there. O_o
I’d hate to remember I forgot something halfway down.