It’s dry as a bone and the winds are starting to howl again in SoCal.
At the hangar today, the buildings creak and groan, the giant steel hangar doors flexing and scraping against each other with every gust. The entry and exit doors threaten to rip out of everyone’s hands with each use. When someone opens the door, all of the ceiling tiles in the office pop and rattle.
Tonight as I sit here working, the rose bushes bash irregularly against the window, and there’s a steady draft through the never-properly-blocked-off doggy door. (It needs to be blocked, even when we had dogs, lest it become a skunk door, raccoon door, rat door, opossum door…)
The vent on the fire pit in this room sticks up about ten to twelve feet – it’s also creaking, rattling, and swaying.
I’ve decided that I’m not a fan of the wind.
It might be yet another long night. And this windy spell is expected to last into late Monday.
If anyone needs me, I’ll be hiding under the covers.