Yesterday, after I picked up Hud from the airport, we lunched at the Barbecue Shop. Seriously. Four days in New York City? You need some good old fashioned pig served by people who know your name and are happy to see you. Personally, I think they have the best in town, tender, flavorful and just the right amount of smoke.
Then it was off the to the furthest reaches of the planet -- Germantown -- to visit the Costco. The weathermen are all in a tizzy, clutching their pearls and flapping hysterically about the possibility of precipitation tomorrow.

I await the falling freeze with baited breath. The chance of catastrophe is greater because while they are thinking we will have a lovely covering of snow, the likelihood is that we will be coated in a sheet of ice.
Most Memphians still remember February 7, 1994, when the entire city was without power for three weeks. I clearly recall the noise of it. All over there was a constant popping and cracking. No whirring cars or hums from any machines, just the occasional explosion of an electrical line snapping.
Living in a great old apartment on Rembert at the time, I was snuggled in bed. I was dreaming peacefully when my little black kitten, Myshkin, awakened me by shinnying down my body, under the covers, straight to my feet. As I opened my eyes, I heard a tremendous pop. The air conditioner in the window leaped up as something giant hit the building. Timidly, I stepped over to the window and peeled back the curtain to see the broken end of a tree limb level with my second floor view. It's girth was six or seven feet. The gravity of the fall had jammed the smaller branches several feet into the ground below. Mysh and I stood on the balcony and witnessed the scene in silence.
My apartment was one of the several hundred in the city to maintain power the whole time. Most were without for almost a month. A few friends never returned to their storm damaged homes. One, whose pot bellied pig awakened him and dragged him outdoors, watched in awe as a tree sliced his room off of the house.
Fingers crossed for snow without a chance for ice. I'm afraid that being on a secondary line at its termination, we would be powerless for the duration and surrounded by aged oaks, would most likely suffer some sort of damage. Zali and the gang are sleeping soundly now that Hud is home and would not warn us of impending trouble.
The Hudarosa has quite the menagerie, but we are shy one lucky pig.
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