After a dormant hurricane season, the Gulf has produced its first storm and decided to interrupt Game Day in Alabama. Half of my dog sitting gigs for the next two weeks were cancelled, alas, as were my plans to visit a new indie bookstore’s grand opening and drop by a Swedish fest. (A funeral may or may not still be on.) Honestly, can’t these hurricanes interrupt the workweek instead of the weekend? While at first we were thinking it wouldn’t amount to too much — it was tracking well east of my area — overnight it strengthened into a Category 3 (same as Ivan, which brutalized us in 2004) and moved west so that now we’ll be close enough to smell not only its cheap cologne but the hamburger it had for lunch. I was already getting Hurricane Zeta vibes yesterday, but now things look worse. The odds are very good that I’m going to lose power for a few days, so you may have to do without presidential biographies for bit. (I’m kidding — I’m close to finishing Forgotten Man, and in my Reagan biography I’ve only gotten him elected.) Fortunately I’ve no shortage of physical books to read, and the weather has been cooling off so we won’t be absolutely miserable.

Just for historical reference, our last hurricane experience: