P.S. Florida

In the wake of Hurricane Irene, I have to make an official hurricane statement. After writing about the alligators, several people mentioned to me how crazy it must have been to grow up in a place threatened by hurricanes each year. The conversations somehow went from the crazy alligators to "Oh, and you have to worry about hurricanes there, too" to which I immediately showed my true Floridian identity by totally and completely denying that hurricanes are that big of a deal.

"Oh, well, you know, they give you lots of warning and anyway, most of them veer north so you know, they aren't as bad as let's say tornadoes, or earthquakes, sheesh, earthquakes. Don't even get me started on those. They just sneak up on you out of nowhere! At least with hurricanes you have enough time to fully evacuate if necessary." Um, right.

And I have to laugh because I was up really late tonight and happened to notice an animal prowling in our yard. My first thought was, "What is that gigantic beast? Could it be an oversized fox? If I were in Florida I would be thinking baby panther or perhaps a lion escapee from the local zoo...."

Yeah, it was a big cat chasing a bug.

But really, Florida has so much character (read: it's where the wild things are). It's the only place I know where having asked a family member if she ever saw this old (not-so-great) former friend of hers she answered: "Oh yeah, he was on TV recently......Because his house fell into a sink hole."

Seriously. Only in Florida.

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