Ivan is wobbling, the 11 a.m. prediction put it over my house on Tuesday, now it's aiming further into the Gulf, which means Girlchild needs to pay attention to this one and consider hauling ass to Jax or here if it keeps heading in that direction. It's still too soon to call, but a Category 5 is not to be trifled with, it will not lose much strength at all in the short distance between the coast and Tallahassee. I've seen her townhouse and it is an end unit surrounded by tall trees, of older and dubious construction. There is no way in hell I'd ride out a 5 there. I will nag the kids to watch the Weather Channel until this thing decides where it's going, and if it's heading for Apalachicola or anywhere in the Big Bend they need to bug outta town, or at the very least go to a shelter, preferably one built to withstand a nuclear blast.

Frances damage reports are coming in from friends and co-workers, the worst off so far is my boss (not Boss, but real boss) - his hurricane shutters failed and windows were knocked out and the interior of his house is a mess. Another colleague lost part of the roof. Haven't heard from the rest yet. Again, I lost shingles and the food in the fridge, I ain't complaining.

I just don't want Ivan to finish off my roof. Estimates on roof repair are running 3 to 6 months out - mine isn't leaking and I can wait, but if another big storm works it over I think my luck will run out. At least three houses on my street need roof replacements, we are going to shop it as a package deal - the first reputable roofer we lure in can keep a crew busy for almost a week in one location. And we'll buy them beer (for after work). Here, roofer roofer roofer....

I should also mention that we are not getting a break in the weather between hurricanes, every day brings the usual tropical thunderstorm action, with lightning and tons of rain, which means the power company guys have to lay off their heroic efforts to turn everybody on. (It is dark and thundering even as I type this, but I have the Floridian's casual attitude toward thunderstorms, and a kickass surge protector.)

I was in line in Publix with a lady who lives one town over, she hasn't had power OR WATER since Friday. The cashier offered to let her come shower and do laundry at her house, but she had already made arrangements. People really are pitching in and looking after each other. It's the sort of warm-fuzzy story you read in your morning paper, with a cup of coffee at your side, at your kitchen table, far away. It sucks to live in those stories.

So I was very glad to get a package of books I'd ordered pre-Frances, which included
Mindful Knitting. This was an impulse purchase, motivated partly by the "aromatherapy tea cosy" pattern and largely by the "knitting as meditation" theme. I have long said knitting was my meditation, which is why if I find a pattern annoying or overly fussy I don't want to make it. I want to focus on the pleasure of making stitches, making fabric, making something simple and attractive and useful. I have zero desire to tackle something so complicated it reduces me to frustrated tears, I am not motivated to see how uber-skilled a knitter I can be. My skills aren't the issue, I can DO it, I just don't want to because for me it sucks the relaxation out of the experience. It's a slim, well-written, simple book, and it gives a "for dummies" overview of meditation and lots of warm, easy advice about how to experience knitting on a different level. Nice book, I like it. I'm not quite halfway through it, but so far I really want to make that aromatherapy tea cosy, I think it would be delightful over a pot of rooibos tea, with lavender in the pockets. Very clever indeed.