No, Really, I Can't.

As hours go by and sleep won't come (is 3:55 a.m. too late to start drinking?) the updates on the unknown trajectory of the potentially hazardous Sandy remain scary and indecisive. Sandy may do anything. It may do exactly what Irene did last year, it may become a foot of snow, it may be a huge wintry mess.

So far The Shire folk have been yukking it up with bleak humor but it's fading quickly, at least among those of us who were here then. The newcomers are bumming but there's a look in the eyes of us who've seen this all before. If it comes to bugging out again, I'm sandbagging the back door.

And so we begin talking about plans. Advice is given to the noobs. If this place floods again, we won't be coming back. And guess what? They never dredged the riverbeds clear from last year's flood so everything's even shallower. Worse flooding! And just in time for the holidays! Yippee!

No, it's out to sea or snow it be. A foot of snow would be good. Long as we have power all would be fine.

Still, I'm cooking off those 2 pork roasts I have in the freezer. Everything was lost last time. I'd rather see it used and given to neighbors if need be. So Sunday's gonna be a big cook-off. Food will be replaced anyway and it may come in handy to have it ready. A huge snow will slow everything and even stop some things. It's all just being prepared. I'm not worried. Nope, not a bit.

If we get evacuated, it'll be much like last time. Except there won't be a Battle for The Shire because it'd be pointless. And I'll be going to a motel, and taking Beest. And we'll be homeless for the holidays. It's so damn Dickensian I can barely stand it. Then if Romney steals the election, I'll really look forward to December 21st.

Should I blood the door? What the hell, man? Once wasn't enough? I don't want to deal with this shit again. And the final indignity, no Halloween in my own house, again here. Followed by no holidays with belongings. No. Just no. Out to sea or snow it be, damn it.