The shutters and plywood are back up, except for one patio door that lets us get out to the grill and pool. We'll cover it tomorrow, as the winds start to develop.

But there's no wind tonight, and a three-quarter moon, waning. The temperature is pleasant. There's no hint that there's a monster lurking three hundred miles away, preparing to wreak havoc on us (or more hopefully, at least for us, those north of us) on the morrow.

The winds should pick up in the morning, and we'll have to check the storm track to see if it's going to continue on its present path toward the counties north of us, including the Cape, or take a bad (again, for us) turn toward us, in which case we'll have to decide whether to stay or run from the flood waters. The winds don't concern us per se, but we don't want to have to be in a position in which we're seeking higher ground within the house, and running out, with the only alternative to get outside in hundred-knot winds.

For now, the forecast is encouraging for us (and proportionately discouraging for those north of us, who also took the brunt of Frances only two scant weeks ago). All the good wishes that you've sent to me, broadcast now to them. Unless, of course, the storm whimsically changes course yet again.