Spring means storm season. My poor old weather radio, battered by multiple moves, lightning strikes, and just plain age (I’ve had this one for 16+ years), is barely hanging in there.
And here is our first catch of the month.
On many occasions, the outbreaks are predicted so far in advance that I have time to prepare some food – and since it’s chicken this time, Chloe has no objections to, uh, “watching” my food until it’s time to go to work.
And once I do get to work, it looks like I won’t have much time for dinner.
I’m not sure why we have a scrolling light sign in the weather center that simply proclaims that it is the weather center, but hey, there ya go.
One night I found this enormous HDTV sitting in a hallway, so I left a note on it that said “Dear engineering, please call me for directions on how to deliver this to my house. Love, Earl.” It turns out that they were more than happy to discuss delivery terms – the TV is thoroughly fried.
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