The Western Atlantic in September; what can you say. It gnaws at the nerves like a rat on your nylons this month. I just awoke to a frantic call from Baroness Seitzinger (she follows these things like an old lady without a purchased title). The good news: she has shutters, a generator, and libations to take on about half a dozen people; the bad news: we are not about to leave the property unprotected and I have to know KiKi is going to be safe.

Most modern homes have natural gas generators now; they provide a needed power for a major breakdown in the power system and actually boost the value of a home ten fold to their price. We've never gotten that and--although I doubt anything but a category five--could take us down, the prospect of no electricity again is harrowing. We may just take The Baroness's offer this time. I'll bring some bedding, some clothes, my valued book collection, the gold coins, and a good bottle collection (that will be one filled). But we won't go without securing everything here AND making sure KiKi is save. He used to be a backstroke champion in the Olympics, but--like all of us--has fallen out of shape. All this is coming Tuesday so I truly anticipate a weekend of hysteria. That is the best type of weekend that takes place here.

More to follow.