Grump Central Logbook: Week of 11 March 2018
Saturday, 17 March. I've really come to dislike weekends, especially when they follow a week of radio silence. Yes, it's back to that nonsense.
P.S. I created a new banner for my site, because I wanted something a bit more original and more personal to replace artwork I'd swiped from The Simpsons. I don't even like The Simpsons.
Friday, 16 March. The snow is in retreat. I feel as though I should be rejoicing, but that's the furthest thing from my mind. Besides, there's another storm on the way Tuesday.
Thursday, 15 March. So, it looks as though once again I'll be forced to wait before I can resume work on my house. This waiting is killing me. I wonder if I'll make it, and what condition my home will be in by then. I don't have a good feeling about any of this.
Wednesday, 14 March. Nearly all of the snow from yesterday's nor'easter has already melted, and we're back to what we'd gotten from the prior storm. I've taken a closer look at the damage done to my house by the tree limb that fell on it, and my worst fears have been confirmed: it's started to rot.
Tuesday, 13 March. Mercifully, our third nor'easter is just sort of skimming us, with a predicted snowfall total of around two inches (New England is expecting at more than a foot). Meanwhile, there's email chatter between the two lawyers involved in my case, amounting to professional finger-pointing over who received—or didn't receive—which emails and when, as opposed to anything substantive. But, I suppose it's better than radio silence.
Monday, 12 March. Spent the day yesterday listening to the whine of chainsaws as neighbors throughout the area cleaned up after Quinn. Now we have Skylar (seriously?) on the way tonight. I'm rapidly approaching the point where I don't care about anything.
Sunday, 11 March. Just starting to take stock of the damage, and about a third of my mountain laurels look like this. I'm really starting to wonder why I bother; I'm beyond being weary of defeat and destruction.
Copyright © 2017-2018 by David K. Smith. All Rights Reserved.