Name: margalit
Location: Massachusetts, United States Professional writer, educational advocate, opinionated ultra liberal mother of 18 year old twins, living life in the slow lane due to hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, congestive heart failure, and diabetes.

email: margalitc at yahoo dot com

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Saturday, July 28, 2007

And the Wind cries "Margalit" #11

Ah, back from 'resting my eyes'. Let's see, where were we? Oh yes, we had just gone to bed.

The next morning when we awoke, the wind had certainly picked up strength. Dust was blowing all over the place, and there were whitecaps on the sea. But it wasn't gale force...yet. We ate breakfast, did our daily constitutional around the island on the only path available, and then headed back to the campsite.

Our neighbors had finally poked their heads out to marvel at the wind. We said hello's and talked about the wind for a second or two, but it was apparent that they weren't going to be great friends. OK by us, we had each other and could entertain ourselves for days with silly stories of our shared past.

By early afternoon, that wind wasn't kidding anymore. It was getting vicious. It had to be over 40 mph, and there wasn't anything to block it. Remember those giant coreopsis. Not giant at all. No trees, no shelter. Just our little tents.

Now, I had a nice tent. A JanSport dome tent that was rather new and in great condition. The other couple, who you'll meet soon, weren't as fortunate. But they were also in a bit of a more sheltered area due to the topography, sort of tucked into the bottom of a hill. Not us, we were out in the open.

Around 3 pm I got nervious. The tent was close to blowing over. We were a tad bit panicky, and I finally decided to head over to the ranger station for some advice. Blowing off course every couple of seconds I got there and knocked on their door. One of the rangers answered with "Oh we were wondering how you all were doing out there. We figured you would show up shortly." Gee thanks, Mr. US Government Representative!

The Rangers had radio and and told us that the storm was just starting and would get much worse. They advised us to pull up camp, and move into the 'museum', which was a single cement block room at the bottom of the lighthouse. They told me to let the other couple know, too. And then they stayed in their comfy cabin and left us to our own devices, handing me the key to the museum and pointing out where it was.

So helpful.... I'll never forget their graciousness. Ahem.

I dodge and twist my way back up to camp, which is about a half mile walk uphill, and tell the neighbors to pack up, then head over to our campsite, where the tent had already lost one stake. We pack our backpacks and join the other couple for a long trudge to the 'museum'. I open the door and see.......

Reminder. I'm blogging for Children's Hospital in Boston. You can sponsor me here. I'm already up to $348. Come on and help me reach my goal of $500. Or a thousand. Or more! Just help!

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