PUT ON THE RED LIGHT!

Tropical storm Hanna was on her way from the Gulf.  We needed the rain, and whilst a few light showers over a period of time would be preferable, rain is rain!

The wren in our sun room was not hindered by the rain.  She sang, and entertained her suitors as she has done over the past few years.  Of course, we cannot be certain it is the same wren, but with a reported lifespan of between six and seven years, I think it may well be, although she would be in her senior years at this stage.  I am not sure what the ratio is between bird years and human years.  Some places say ten years, and others more, or less.  At least female birds do not have to go through 'teenage years', and at least male birds do not have to put up with female birds going through 'teenage years'.  A teenage girl.  Your best friend and worst enemy!  My wren, I have decided, has a certain 'je nais se quoi'!  Apparently, wrens are meant to be monogamous, but this lady obviously did not read the rule book!  

A cloudburst on Sunday evening caused us to be soaked from car to house, a matter of a few steps, but it was rain.  It had been a glorious afternoon, and I had read and swam for most of the afternoon.  It was perfect.  People came and went, and I was left alone once again with my book.  The threat of rain had not been 'threat' enough.

Of course, the weekend came to an abrupt end, and we were back in the office before we were ready! It was another hot day.  I had been experiencing slight difficulty hurdling over the gate that is put in place to keep the dogs out of the front office.  It is necessary for several reasons.  Mainly, so I tell people, to keep the dogs out of the front office, but mainly to keep people out of the back office.  I do not think there is ever a reason to walk past a receptionist into the offices beyond, if there is a receptionist sitting at a desk.  However, since working here, it has been common practice for people to totally ignore the lady (yes, lady) sitting at the front desk, and walk straight through!  However,, I digress.  I have had difficulty hurdling across the gate.  It is not particularly high, but I had been suffering from my stair fall injury, and a stiff hip!  Exercising and general movement was okay, but having sat for any length of time, caused me to sieze.  "I wish I was Sharon", I said quoting the name of a girl with whom I went to school.  "Who's Sharon?" came the question.  I responded that 'Sharon' was tall.  Sharon had long blond hair, which when was piled in a neat bun on top of her head, made her taller, and somehow more able to glide over hurdles!  'Sharon' was popular with the teachers.  I was never teachers pet.  Well, perhaps not never, but never so it was noticed or in things that mattered to me.  'Sharon' could have stepped over the gate just by striding.  Me?  I was getting stuck!  "You sound like you wanted to chop off Sharon's legs!" said my daughter.  "She still would have been 5'8!" I responded.  'Sharon' was in the netball team too!  I reminisced.  It was not until my teacher found out that I played for a 'club' did she offer me a place on the team.  I declined!  It was a 'one up' for me.  However, again, I digress.  The hurdling was not my finest hour!  

The memory of 'Sharon', the netball team, and the schools I attended brought back many memories, and I wondered where all ended up, especially now that the class of '76 were pensioners!  I do remain in contact with several, and those several in turn remain in contact with a wider group.  I told a few stories about various antics that we 'got up to' during what are recorded as the 'best years of our lives' and caused a few outbursts of laughter.  Teenage girls are best friends and worst enemies, all at the same time!  

Hanna was brewing and threatening.  A red light blinked for danger. "They used to call all storms by girls names.  Or at least when I was a boy", said the pool man, in his Texan drawl.  "Doesn't surprise me!" I responded.  "After all, a storm starting to brew, surging into a threatening force, and then tearing through with a vengeance, leaving a trail of mess behind, and then petering down to nothing, with a 'everything's good now, let's get on with it....until next time', is pretty much like a teenage girl!" Of course, I do not speak for all teenage girls, and I apologise for any offence I may cause to to those of my gender who disagree, but from memory, and boy do I have some memories, (no pun intended,) a tropical storm is very similar to a teenage girl.  'Sisters, sisters, never were there such devoted sisters'.  Oh yes, 'God help the sister who comes between me and my man', is preceded by the line, 'God help the mister who comes between me and my sister'.  It is a quote from the 'teenage bible', I am sure!  Thankfully, the 'best friend' teenage girls I had, are still best friends!

Why Hanna, and not Hannah?  My assumption is that a tropical storm is definitely not a 'palindrome'.  It is definitely not the same forwards as it is backwards.  It would be called 'boomerang' if it was!  

The 'tart' as she is affectionately known to us, continued to woo her gentlemen friends throughout the week.

"My daughter.....", started one of my male acquaintances, and continued to tell me of a conversation they had.  "How old is she?" I asked.  "Thirteen" came the response.  "She is thirteen! That is the answer.  Never been a teenage girl, have you!" I said. It was meant to be rhetorical, but he answered in the negative, looking for a solution.  "I have.  This too will pass!"  It was not what he wanted to hear, and having another daughter who is eleven, he looked horrified at the prospect of having 'two of them'.  Red lights a'blinkin'.  Had he never been warned?

I was not surprised to see someone at the pool when I returned home on Wednesday.  It was early and warm.  My neighbour, Dorothy, was swimming laps.  In her mid 80's she is a remarkable woman!  I have only known her for sixteen years, but would suspect she was definitely not 'my' synopsis of a typical teenage girl.  I would imagine her to have always been the exception to the rule, and the peacemaker.  We both swam and apart from exchanging pleasantries, did not speak much until we had finished our laps.  Another neighbour came down poolside, and mentioned something about bird feeders.  Apparently, a dove comes to feed, and then flays down the pole.  "A pole dancer", I responded!  I told them about our wren.  "Oh my goodness!" said Jennifer.  "We have a red light district for birds!"  That was it!  The 'tart' has a name!  Roxanne!  Of course, this would have to remain a secret from my neighbour by that name, but the first thing that came to mind was the song by 'Police', including the lyrics 'put on the red light'!  

Hanna's presence was starting to be felt.  Although there was no rain, the wind had picked up and the clouds were rolling in.  However, they rolled out again just as fast.  We watched and waited.  Friday was meant to be stormy.  It was not.  Instead it was hot!  I had finished my book and was ready to start on a new one, but did not know which way to turn.  Phenomenal had been a real page turner, and the previous book the same.  Crime and Punishment had been a laborious, though enjoyable book, but had left me wanting a few lighter options.  I chose a novel about the newly formed 'Murder Squad', formed by Scotland Yard, after the failed attempt to capture Jack the Ripper.  Yes, next to Crime and Punishment, it looked like 'light(er) reading'.  I headed down for a swim on Friday evening, and encountered a few neighbours.  Jennifer and her husband, with a friend, and another couple.  We were suitable separated enough for me to swim my laps.  After the exercise, we sat and chatted.  Teenage girls and birds were never mentioned, but it was a pleasant end to the week.  

Despite the threat of rain, and Hanna being upgraded, officially, to a hurricane, the first of the 2020 season, the weather app on my phone kept pushing the possibility of rain further and further away.  Samantha collected me and we headed out on our rounds.  By the time we came home, there had been slight rainfall, enough to cause some puddles to form, but not enough to stop this gal from taking another dip!  I watched as the weather app saw off the storm until I had returned home, put away the remainder of my shopping and got dressed for dinner!  Dressed for dinner I was.  As we stepped out of the back door, the rain tumbled down in buckets.  Rain we needed, although not particularly well timed, at least not for us.  However, it did not last long and by the time we had finished eating it was dubious as to whether any rain had fallen at all.  The roads were dry and the puddles not existent.  

The clouds burnt off early this morning, and after swimming I made breakfast.  After breakfast, I went for a walk.  Hanna had been downgraded to a tropical storm, again and was slowing down.  Although rain was due at one, it did not happen, but I was still the only one at the pool.  My new book is very good, and would have made much more headway had I not received a message from Dana.  "Storm is twenty minutes away", he said.  There had been a warning on the television, and when there is a warning on the television, it is serious!  I told him I would 'shut up shop' despite the sun shining, and the few clouds in the sky being small, white and fluffy.  I read another chapter, and then heard the distant rumbles of thunder.  Hanna's tempestuous residue was going to shorten my afternoon.  Although the rain had not started, the sky started to darken and the distant horizon looked as if it was deeply bruised, with a deep purple tinge.  Rain may not have been imminent, but it would arrive.  


Hanna stormed in furiously, just like a teenage girl in a rage, and then, as if Texas told her 'enough is enough', she went out grumbling.   Perhaps it was our girls, Roxanne and friends, who said, "This is our territory, now fly!"  Obviously, there was damage, and the chances of flash floods are still very much a threat, but she is on her way out.  

Next week looks to be hot, hotter and beyond.  I hope Roxanne and her friends keep well shaded, and safe.  Hanna will dissipate into the history books.  I shall no doubt find some new stories with which to entertain my office colleagues, and will find some more material for ............ another story!