Wonder how much rain there will be?

In the thick of the track, just set out a bucket - needs washed out anyway.  Last night, filled two buckets in case of power loss - i understand, many electrical trucks are headed southward for the people who may be without for days, if not weeks.  Also, have plastic bottles of water ... so i'll be able to wash my face and such.  Fortunately, the winds won't be high - that sort of business is very worrisome.

What worries me most is: if there's storm damage - for this, or any other - storm, getting the repair work done.  Two years ago, had some work done, by a regular, reputable contractor: the man said, "see you in a few months."  My mouth dropped.  This  being, before covid, getting the supplies; there had been a bad storm down south - where entire communities had been trashed.  Also, he said that it wasn't easy finding good employees; when one takes a different job (when your 40-ish, muscles aren't the same) they're short handed for awhile.  He told me, you don't just hire anyone who claimes to be looking for work.  Sad to say, they've been burnt more than once, apparently - into the project, and newish hire is either late, again, or just doesn't show. Btw, they have to keep an eye on the weather.

And no, am neither one of those rich boomers, who seem to have contractors on retainer.  Btw, from various stats, about half of us boomers don't have the money to be ever out and about - expecting everyone else to kowtow to our egos.  Am among those living in the real world, where careful decisions are an ever must in order to remain on top of things.  Ya know, even to the point of being glad for not wanting a tv - that pay-per-view business $5 here, $10 there, can add up.  

So yeah, weather worries me, to the point of murmuring about it.  Don't wanna go there.  The Lord hates bellyaching.  Just learned, through some guy preaching the Word, it wasn't the golden calf, or the various other woodstock activities, that made the Lord so angry, that He told Moses he was fixing to destroy em all.  Nope, it wasn't the card playing, the cigarette smoking, or even the super shortie-shorts wearing, it was the habitual complaining.