Here we were, feeling so smug about having made it through the earthquake yesterday, no worse for the wear, when bang! Boom! Down came the bottles from the top shelf of the closet. I was reminded of the flight attendants' intercom message on every commercial airplane ride I've ever taken. "Please take care when opening the overhead bins as contents may have shifted during the flight." Indeed. Replace the words "overhead bins" with closet, "contents" with wine bottles and "flight" with earthquake and you've got the picture. Three bottles narrowly missed Ron's noggin and came crashing to the floor. Actually, six bottles fell; only three broke.Ron yelled out a few expletives. I did too, as I ran to the house from the yard, hearing his cries intermixed with "The wine!" Upon seeing the purple mess of glass and grape, the #%*&@ was followed by a Tim the Toolman Taylor-esque "Oh no...." Needless to say, my closet now has a lovely nose. We will likely be painting the walls in the hallway sooner than planned. Maybe a nice Burgundy? The hallway rugs were soaked with syrah, the floors swimming is sangiovese.
Last night, we were hit with a tremendous thunder storm. Poor Hoppsy was beside herself. Actually, she was beside me, stuck like Gorrilla Glue, quaking in fear. It was so loud and continuous that even Doc and Crawford got a bit nervous. Before long, all three of them were in the bed with us. It was also very hot and humid, with lightning flashing bright enough to light up the room over and over for hours. Needless to say, we are all a bit sleep deprived today. I'm sure nighty night will come early this evening.
Yesterday, Ron got creative and we built a very small, very makeshift greenhouse. It's fashioned in the same vein as our tool shed. Of course, both "stuctures" have the same architectural designer. A real greenhouse is a planned purchase; we're just waiting for our finances to catch up with our plans after the big move. It won't be long...
A hui hou! Aloha!