Rita

I live 343 miles from Beaumont, Texas. Hurricane Rita came ashore between Beaumont and Lake Charles, LA early this morning. Our skies were streaked with clouds from the storm beginning yesterday afternoon.
This morning as I mowed and did other yard work, I noticed the bands of clouds coming from the East/Northeast, as did the wind. This is unusual for Dallas at this time of year. The wind today was about 20 ~ 25 mph with strong gusts to 45. My (plastic) patio furniture was moving all over the place, so I put it up. We got a little mist from it as well.
I am amazed by the power exhibited by different weather phenomena and think I want to see some in person, not just on CNN. I almost went to the coast in 1979, when a tropical storm made it all the way to the Connecticut shore (I lived near the northern border). But I had to work.
I am awed when I go through neighborhoods that have been struck by tornados.
But after feeling the wind from 300 miles away today, I think I can take this off my "to-do in life" list.

It's been so crazy...

Work is kicking my butt. Since New Year's (when I started this job), I have usually been able to carve out an hour or two here and there to spend reading blogs and popping up some thoughts.
Not lately.
We hired another salesman and John and Matt are starting to hit their stride. I can't remember the last day of "no orders" to ship. It seems there is always product coming in as well.
So, while I miss spending time in the blogosphere, it is exciting to be busy, knowing that we are starting to become a profitable part of The Oldham Group. We want to be the largest branch by next July. Let's hope.

They're both dead now...

On Wednesday evening I took part in a focus group. We sampled 5 variations of an Italian Sausage pizza that a national chain will be introducing soon, I think. They paid me $40 for my opinions.
But the title here refers to my parents.
As we were waiting to enter the room for the tasting, the hallway was abuzz chatter from the various groups of friends that had been recruited. I may have been the only one to come alone to this and I also felt like the oldest person there.
The group adjacent to me was six college students. They were discussing (not quietly) which of them was the better child.
"How often do you talk to your parents?"
"I talk to my mom every day."
"Every few days."
"I only talk to my dad about once a week."
And so it went.
I realized then (again) that both my parents are gone. That life is moving "the way it should" (a parent shouldn't bury their child). And I have arrived at that stage where I can't ask Dad for advice or Mom for recipes. {{{{{{sigh}}}}}}}
If you still have your parents, tell 'em you love 'em.
Even if you have "issues."
And if not the 'rents, well, there must be someone you can tell. Even if it is yourself. We all need to hear it every so often.
Peace and prayers for the flooded.