Whirly Girl

That's a designation I first remember being applied to hurricanes by the late author John_D._MacDonald in one of his Travis McGee novels. A fitting name when the National Weather Service only used feminine names for these late summer and fall storms.

Of course now-a-days we have to be politically correct and also use masculine names.

I reckon that's OK with me.........doesn't seems to really matter. After all I have seen and heard of men who could hold a grudge with most women. I must admit though that the saying "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned", does seem to apply more generally to the fairer sex. Most guys will bluster and blow hard for a little while and then with the first rumbling of his stomach will say, "food.......me.......now" and turn his attention to that, sex or television. The more outdoorsy type will go fishing or hunting. Small flare ups may flicker behind his eyes every once in a while, but quickly smolder out as his brain can't retain the necessary focus to keep thinking of it.

It looks like Hannah might bring us a little rain either tomorrow night or maybe Saturday. That'll be OK here in the northern Piedmont of Georgia......maybe not so OK for those closer to the coast or up along the Outer Banks and the Northeastern States..

We had another East Coast brushing storm a few years ago called Hugo who's heavy rain and wind laid waste to much of the lower eastern seaboard. Much of the Damage was due to the flooding caused.

I confess to not having much of an inclination to get too close to a hurricane. I have to admit however that the clear skies both before and after the fact are some of the most beautiful I've ever seen. No haze, just crystal clear air through which from an elevation you can see forever it seems.

Even the clouds during the storms passage are impressive as they sweep counter clockwise in bands of gray, and darker almost black, that unleash rain that comes down like you are pouring water out of a rubber boot, or like the old timers used to say "like a cow pissing on a flat rock". Having been around cows most of my life I know exactly what that is like.
My paternal Grandfather once told a visitor to his dairy barn during milking time who asked how he could stand the smell, "Shoot, I've had so much splashed in my mouth I don't even taste it anymore". I come from down to earth country stock. Most of us will speak it like it is. Some better than others of course.

Anyway, I'll watch the skies for the next few days, noticing which way the birds are flying and the wind is blowing.