greygirlbeast (greygirlbeast) wrote,

and the world we set on fire

I think that, when I made my post yesterday, I was not quite yet cognizant of the extent of the damage done to Atlanta by the storms of Friday night. And while it's not as bad as the media hype makes it out to be — not Cloverfield: Atlanta or The Doom That Came to Peachtree Street — it's bad enough. I think the hardest thing to see was the damage done to the Fulton Cotton Mill lofts, as that was such a beautiful old set of buildings. And, I should mention, we thought seriously about moving in there when we left the Kirkwood Lofts and moved in here three years ago. This is, by the way, the first tornado to touchdown in Atlanta proper since March 24th, 1975, when the worst such storm in the city's history ripped the roof off the Governor's mansion.

Not much to say about yesterday. There was the bath, and then, because we thought the weather had calmed down, we headed over to Emory University so I could get a few books and do some research. There was a grand exhibit up at Woodruff — first editions of the works of many poets and prose authors (mostly poets; many volumes signed and inscribed), including T. S. Eliot, Ezra Pound, William Burroughs (as "William Lee"), and Emily Dickinson. But then, we came back outside and the air was deathly still. No birds. One confused-looking squirrel. No wind. Halfway home, the civil-defence sirens went off and another storm hit. I thought the hail was going to come through the windshield of Spooky's car. The streets around Candler Park flooded in minutes. But by the time we pulled into our driveway, it had passed.

Today, the world is sunny and bright, an early Spring day.

And also today, while I was having my morning oatmeal, I decided that the third erotica collection will be titled Confessions of a Five-Chambered Heart.

Spooky continues frantically searching for a place for us to live in Rhode Island (mostly looking at Providence). We've got some good leads, though it's still nerve-wracking, knowing this huge move is a mere two and half a months away. But, it's hard to image that our lives won't be better in just about every sense possible for having made the move. More than anything, I think I dread packing and unpacking the 60 or 70 boxes of books, and all the fossils, and having to find a new doctor, and a new dentist. But then I think about the ocean, and the cemeteries, and the museums, and the Not South, and so forth, and it more than balances out. I believe we've reached the point where it's hard to do stuff like cleaning and tidying up this place, knowing that as soon as we get back from Maryland it's all going to start going into boxes. Which reminds me, the event at the O'Neil Literary house is free and open to the public. I'll post a schedule later.

Not much else to last night. My apologies to everyone (Lorne, Larissa, Omega, Pontifex, Brit, etc.) for having to leave the Omega Institute St. Patrick's Day party so early. I have a keeper (a kindly keeper, mind you). She makes me sleep. Well, she does her damnedest.

Enough prattling for one day...
Tags: rhode island, second life, sirenia, weather

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