These are screen shots from a news report today of hurricane damage in Florida, and even one in Peachtree Creek, Georgia, and another in North Carolina. And I’ve been complaining about being bored?

Mea culpa. No more complaints.

Brendochka

9/28/24

Second full day of no electricity, and I’m already beginning to crack. My phone is my only means of communication with the outside world, but I can’t type fast enough to write anything meaningful on it. (As the saying goes, I’m all thumbs.)

Today’s news brought five important stories, and the frustration of being unable to comment on them is unbearable.

(I thought a primal scream might be in order here.)

I’m going to start writing now, the old-fashioned way — pen and paper — and pray the power comes back before the news is too old to matter.

The mind is a terrible thing to lose.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka

9/28/24

And I mean that literally: We have now been without electricity in the Savannah area for 23 hours, with no end in sight. And that leaves you feeling . . . well, powerless.

We have a generator that keeps the kitchen in operation, and allows us to charge our phones, but that’s about all. And we were fortunate not to have sustained any damage to the house or cars. But everything is shut down while the crews work to clear the roads of debris and repair the downed power lines.

And boredom is setting in — big time. No wi-fi, so no news, no TV, no anything. Sigh!

And that damned song keeps running through my mind — “That’s the night the lights went out in Georgia.” Aargghhh!

So no fun stuff from me for now, and no comments on the world’s foibles. Maybe this afternoon I’ll actually go for a long walk, instead of being glued to my iPad as usual. What a radical thought!

Best of luck to all those who were hit really hard by this monster. Mother Nature can be a tough mother!

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka

9/28/24

Try sitting in a hot, humid house, with no electricity, everyone out of conversation, praying for the lights and the wi-fi to come back. Best to keep the windows shut, because it’s 90 degrees outside. Just enough juice from the small generator to run the kitchen and keep the food from spoiling (thank goodness for that, anyway).

Candlelight is lovely, but not when it’s your only source of light. There are a couple of flashlights, but it’s hard to hold one of those and a book at the same time. And my iPad’s battery is down to 44%. Gotta hurry. What to do when that runs out?

And we didn’t get the worst of it, here in southern Georgia. I can’t imagine what the poor folks who got slammed with the full force of Hurricane Helene in Florida are going through right now. My biggest problem is boredom.

So I’m using a little of my battery power to write to you good readers out there, just to have someone else to talk to, and to let the world know what’s happening here.

It feels like 50 years ago — ancient times, now — when you made your own entertainment without the aid of FB friends and chatbots. It’s a lost art, and I miss it.

So, until the electricity gods give us back our power, it’s me . . .

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
9/27/24

No, we did not float away or blow away during the night.

Thank you — we’re very excited too.

Unfortunately, a lot of people in the direct path of Hurricane Helene weren’t as lucky, and I wish them all a speedy recovery.

We had on-and-off rain, lots of wind, and the power has been out since around 1:00 a.m. (Eastern time). No air-conditioning, and I slept with two little flashlights and a package of AAA batteries next to my bed. Altogether, a survivable outcome.

However, early a.m. messages from our county advise dangerous road conditions, downed power lines, lots of debris, etc. So no idea yet when power will be back on. I’d better save my battery and sign off now.

We’re still better off than a lot of others, so no complaints.

Brendochka
9/27/24

That’s the U.S. State of Georgia — the one Donald Trump was talking about when he told the people to get out and vote, but showed a picture of the Republic of Georgia instead.

But that’s irrelevant. There’s a hurricane a-comin’, and she’s a beaut.

I’m writing this on Thursday evening, but probably won’t publish it until after midnight Friday, just before turning in for the night and trying to sleep. Helene is about to hit Apalachicola, Florida, as a category 4 storm, and should head north/northwest from there. We are located well east of the projected track of Helene’s eye, about 35 miles northwest of Savannah, Georgia; but the effects are widespread, and we’re already getting heavy rain, with thunderstorms and possible tornados forecast for later tonight.

We’re far enough inland that we don’t get the storm surges from the ocean. But there are lots of rivers and creeks nearby, and some of them tend to flood every time it drizzles. Since this area is already built on swampland (don’t ask me why they did that), there isn’t room underground to absorb a whole lot of rain water, so it just pools wherever it can — on roads, in people’s yards, in parking lots, on flat roofs, mixing with the chlorinated water in swimming pools and overflowing . . . wherever.

Hey, have I mentioned that I’m not really fond of the climate here?

I was born a Yankee. Originally from New Hampshire, we lived there and in Rhode Island, then back in New Hampshire, until moving to the Washington, D.C. area when I was 13. I thought that was pretty far south at the time. Now when I tell folks I’m from D.C., they say, “Oh, a Yankee!” So I tell them that while I worked in the city, I actually lived in the suburbs of Northern Virginia. It’s below the Mason-Dixon Line. But to the locals here in Georgia, that’s still Yankee territory. It’s all relative.

Now, in all fairness, the climate in Washington isn’t the greatest either — especially in the summer. It’s hot and humid (though usually about ten degrees cooler than here). But it does have four seasons. While fall arrives a little later than in New Hampshire, it does show up, and the trees do change color when the nights turn chilly.

Here in Georgia, spring and fall each last about three days. I really miss the cherry blossoms around the Tidal Basin in April, and snuggling into the sweaters and vests in October.

I’m truly not crazy about the climate here, you know.

Winter usually brings at least one or two good snow events to the D.C. area. Of course, they play havoc with the traffic, but there’s nothing prettier than the National Mall — stretching west to east from the Washington Monument, past the Lincoln Memorial, and on to the U.S. Capitol — covered in snow.

They don’t know snow in Georgia. I’m told it did snow once, about five or six years ago. All hell broke loose, of course, but it melted within a day or two. They still talk about it a lot . . . the way San Franciscans talk about the 1906 earthquake.

But mostly what gets to me are the extremes. Washington doesn’t get a lot of hurricanes, and the ones that do hit there are generally already on the downslide. I recall a time when tornados were unheard-of there. Climate change has brought a few to the area, but most of the tornado watches just fizzle out. Thunderstorms are common in the summer, but if you don’t stand under a tree or out in the middle of a golf course with a hunk of metal in your hand, you should be just fine.

Here, every storm — and they’re almost a daily event in the summer — brings with it a good chance of a tornado or two. And the heat? Well, let’s just say that no one has to pay to have a sauna built into their home; every home is already in one gigantic, outdoor sauna.

Have I mentioned yet that I really, really hate the climate here? I have? Too bad.

Anyway, this will probably be my only posting on Friday’s blog; I’ll be busy making sure my emergency pack contains everything I’ll need while we wait for the helicopter to come pick us up from the roof as the house floats down I-95.

But I’ll be back in touch as soon as I can recharge my phone. Which reminds me: Did I pack that charger?

Gotta run now . . .

Brendochka
9/27/24

P.S. In case I forgot to mention it, about the climate here . . . Yeah, yeah, I know. Enough already.

Just lost power — 11:40 p.m. Thursday. Not in direct path, but even the outer fringes are pretty strong here in southern Georgia. May as well turn in early and save batteries. Good night, all, and stay safe.

Brendochka

9/26/24

Sounds like the title of a Carl Reiner sequel to “The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming,” doesn’t it?

I wish it were. But unfortunately, it’s more like this:

It’s the Russians again, all right; but it’s not funny. It’s the Cold War, 21st Century version. And it’s already a hot war in Ukraine, and threatening to spread. Because Vladimir Putin won’t be satisfied with just Ukraine.

Ignoring the fact — so obvious to everyone in the world above the age of three — that it was he who invaded Ukraine . . . not once, but twice, in 2014 and 2022 . . . he very quickly turned the West’s unexpected defensive support of Ukraine on its head, characterizing it as an offensive move against Russia.

And when his usual blustering didn’t frighten the NATO members into submission, he dragged out the old nuclear threat. And at first the world basically said, “Really? Again?”

Well, now he’s taken it a step further. Russia’s existing protocol on the use of nuclear weapons, established in 2020, provides for such use in the event of a nuclear attack by an enemy or a conventional attack “when the very existence of the state is in jeopardy.” [Al Jazeera, September 26, 2024.]

But now, Putin says, a revision to the doctrine is being considered that would provide for clearer, more specific conditions for the use of nuclear weapons:

“Conditions for Russia’s move to use nuclear weapons are clearly stated [in the revisions]. We will consider such a possibility when we receive reliable information about a massive launch of air and space attack assets and them crossing our state border . . . [specifically citing] strategic and tactical aircraft, cruise missiles, drones, hypersonic and other flying vehicles.” [Id.]

In other words, stay out of our yard, or we’ll nuke your house.

And now, with the war in Ukraine in its third year, and neighboring countries increasingly on alert, NATO has begun planning for the possible need to transport large numbers of wounded troops in the event of a war with Russia, potentially by way of hospital trains if air evacuations become unfeasible. [Sabine Siebold, Reuters, September 25, 2024.]

NATO has been working toward improving its ability to “deter and defend against any Russian assault” since the 2022 Russian invasion of Ukraine. [Id.] Those preparations are now being ramped up in light of the Kremlin’s increased level of threats.

It’s beginning to feel more and more like sixty years ago. And it doesn’t feel good.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
9/26/24

She comes up with this beauty:

Meet . . . well, I don’t think she has a name. In fact, I’m not even sure it’s a “she,” but it kind of looks like one. So let’s just assume it is, and call her Babe. We do know that she’s from the Taklamakan Desert in northwest China, and that she’s about 3,600 years old. And the reason we know her age is from . . . get ready . . . the cheese that was found around her head and neck — perhaps, as surmised by the experts, as a snack for the afterlife.

Really.

Oddly, scientists seem to be more interested in the cheese than in the mummified remains of the newly-discovered Xiaohe people. I’m not even clear on how they can be sure it is cheese, and not some disgusting blob of . . . well, whatever. But they are; and they say their studies will “show the way humans harnessed microbes to improve their food and how microbes can be used to track cultural influences through the ages.” [Katie Hunt, CNN, September 25, 2024.]

While I can certainly see the importance of those studies in relation to the future preservation of the Earth’s food supply, I’m not a scientist. I’d be much more interested in knowing where she got that hat.

*. *. . *

And while we’re digging into the past — literally — let’s talk about this big fellow — a woolly rhino who has been preserved in the Russian permafrost for more than 32,000 years, and was found with its skin and fur still intact. The paper published in the journal Doklady Earth Sciences also revealed that the woolly rhino had a large fatty hump on its back and that its fur changed color as it grew older. [Issy Ronald, CNN, September 25, 2024.]

Actually, everyone I know over the age of 75 complains about the same thing, so perhaps we homo sapiens are distantly related to the woolly rhino and just never knew it.

I’m sure the scientists who have been working on this unique find know what they’re doing. But looking at the artist’s rendering above, I can’t help wondering whether they might accidentally have stumbled upon the remains of former Communist Party General Secretary Leonid Brezhnev. All he needs is the horns:

*. . *. . *

Now from the ridiculous to the merely amusing, a new study has found that the octopus — normally a solitary creature — can actually work with other fish to hunt. And if the fish-assistants don’t work hard enough, the octopus will punch them to get them moving. [CNN, September 25, 2024.]

That’s clearly harassment. But I guess there’s no such thing as OSHA at the bottom of the sea. Too bad, little fishies.

*. *. . *

And finally, this one simply scares the bejeezus out of me. It has nothing to do with any form of animal life, but takes place several billion light years from Earth, in one of those terrifying black hole things.

This rendering is said to illustrate “massive jets of material shooting from a black hole [that] dwarf even the largest galaxies.” [Ashley Strickland, CNN, September 25, 2024.]

Holy crap!

Again, this is advanced science, so I can’t pretend to comprehend what these things mean. But the report speaks of such terrors as a “megastructure [that] spans 23 million light-years in length, making these black hole jets the largest ever seen.” And: “Black holes are viewed as the garbage disposals of the universe, gobbling up nearly everything that comes close to them.” [Id.]

Okay, I want to know: Just how close is “close”? Or maybe I don’t want to know . . . not about that, or any of the rest of the report. I’m already dreading falling asleep tonight; this is a nightmare just waiting to happen.

Thanks a lot, Ma Nature. I liked it better when we knew less about you.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
9/26/24

That’s what they are — those people who call themselves Members of the U.S. Congress. They’re Grinches.

Both houses yesterday passed yet another budget stopgap bill, just four days before the end of the fiscal year. And they are no doubt congratulating themselves for averting a shutdown of the government.

Well, hold the congratulations, folks. Because what they’ve really done is ruin Christmas . . . yet again. This week’s action just carries us to December 20th, which means another knock-down-drag-out fight over what to keep and what to slash from the proposed budget. And if they can’t pass it in time, and the majority of government workers get sent home just before Christmas, and their salaries get held back until they return to work, then . . .

It’s not a pretty picture, is it? And it’s even uglier when you think about the fact that those very Members of Congress who created the problem will continue to be paid without interruption, because their compensation is guaranteed by the U.S. Constitution. And changing that would require a Constitutional amendment, which would have to be ratified by . . . any guesses? . . . right you are:

Both houses of Congress.

WHAT??!!!

You read me correctly. Some people may not realize that, but it’s true. Check it out. It’s Article I, Section 6, Clause 1, and the 27th Amendment. And if your Senator or Congressperson is running for reelection this year, you might want to find out how they voted on the budget yesterday before checking that box on the ballot in November.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
9/26/24