I’ll keep this post to those subjects not worthy of complaint: Alligators and The Weather.

Day number two, and not one woman has been devoured by an alligator. Has the terror lifted? Has the Miami Herald stopped writing in a haphazard manner? Don’t be too sure on either count, especially the second.

The Herald—taking all-to-valuable time away from brush fires and purse snatching—continued its vilification of the alligator, although mindful of the fact that the poor creature is starving and lacking water for its environment. It still wrung its hands about the poor “jogger”, while not bothering to explore the reason she was under a bridge after just calling her mother about being depressed and also neglected to question why body number two was dressed only in blue panties while “it appeared to have been bitten”. Damn, I’d bite something that was floating in my soup for three days, too! Number Three was just so young; she couldn’t have known not to snorkel in a remote lake.

The ever-observant Constanza sent this message today: “…I must hurriedly dash off this note while en route back to Boston from my latest D.C. travels, for I have only just become aware of these rampaging gangs of alligators, out to murder or, worse yet, *sexuallymolest* some of Florida's best and brightest -- in which case most surely they have you in their sights.” Ah, a noble woman with noble thoughts, though misplaced. I may be a bit down every now and then, but I don’t swim in remote ponds and I certainly don’t wear powder blue panties in public. Worry not, Constanza, for whom the alligator tolls…

We just endured nature’s other Wrath of Florida, the weather; 36 hours of wind-driven rain and ferocious lightening only gave us a glimpse of what’s to come. Awake at 5AM from the crashing sound of thunder, I spent time researching rubber boots after experiencing the flooding of the day before and also started the legwork on purchasing a generator. No one thinks we will get away with anything this year. Oh, there's the bell....

Why, it's my friends, The Alligators. "Do come in, you must be famished. Have a seat and let me fix you a cool, refreshing beverage. Yes, I have seen that dreadful pool the Russian neighbors put in next door. Yes, they ARE rich. And Russian, too; you KNOW what that means. Oh, you noticed those children, too. How can you not; they are constantly screaming and splashing. You'll do what? Oh, no, I couldn't ask you to do that. That's too nice of you, but if you insist, I won't have to put out the cheese platter after all."