A friend at work was planning to go away for the weekend. I told her that they're expecting some serious Santa Anas, so I hoped she wouldn't have any flight difficulties. She asked what Santa Anas were. I said it would be windy. Really, really, windy.
Because a picture is worth 1000 words, I'll shut up now, and give you the picture I just took out my front window.
I'm concerned. Largely because the winds were that fierce and it isn't even midnight yet.
(Aside to folks concerned about "Pokey" -- the five-foot plywood reindeer that I put out this weekend, back when it was 80 degrees and beautiful. Pokey has to be on the parkway. I tied him to a tree (a different tree) and set a light out in front of him. Indeed, that brown line you see across my driveway is the duck tape covering the extension cord which continues down the lawn, under the downed tree. I only discovered the tree when I looked out my window to check on Pokey. I then went outside to observe the damage. Pokey had, in fact, escaped his ropes. (My knots held, but the rope attached to the frame on Pokey's backside didn't.) He was lying flat on the ground -- miraculously, he hadn't crushed the lightbulb in front of him (and started one of those fast-moving fires). I briefly tried to pick him up but the utter stupidity (not to mention impossibility) of carrying a five-foot piece of plywood in 45 mile per hour winds quickly struck me. I decided that flat on the ground was probably the best place for him. I went back inside the house, pleased that (for now), I still have electricity, internet, and satellite TV. Gonna hunker down with the cat.)
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