Non-Hurricane Earl has left Cape Cod, after barely even stopping by for a visit. Not that I'm complaining too much, mind you.
It's like expecting your stodgy Great Aunt Edith to stop by for drinks and dinner. The same old auntie who's lipstick-smeared cigarette-scented kisses haunted your dreams when you were a kid. You spend all day cleaning, scrubbing, preparing... but dreading the visit all the same. When she does ring the doorbell... and then just waves from the front steps and in her raspy voice says, "Sorry, can't stay," are you all that upset? Or glad to have dodged the bullet? (be honest....)
The sky is already blue, and the grass is starting to dry out from all the rain. But speaking of scrubbing and preparing, I have a party to get ready for!
Gin and tonics at my house, four o'clock.
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