Friday morning, big storm on the way, yet the air is chilly and much drier, not at all tropical. I presume this will change as Lee pulls closer, but for now Portland feels like autumn.

Yesterday I tucked away all of the chairs and loose items. Today, after a morning phone meeting, I'll strip the last of the string beans from the vines and take down the trellis. I do hope we make it through without much tree damage, but we're not in a flood zone, so that's one worry I don't need to have. If you don't hear from me, assume that the power's out and we're playing cards and reading books and otherwise doing fine.

Yesterday I found a variety of mushroom I've been hunting for years: maitake, also known as hen of the woods (different from chicken of the woods, which I also hunt). Maitake grows at the base of oak trees in clusters that resemble setting hens, and they are choice. Also, they're easy to identify, with no inedible lookalikes. So we'll be having top-of-the-line mushroom gravy with our roast chicken tonight. I can't wait.

And last night's writing salon was lovely, as it usually is. I am so attached to my Thursday nights. 

Reading-wise, I'm still immersed in Middlemarch, still working my way through the Inferno. Today will be big housework day: floors, bathroom, sheets and towels, and that chicken to roast for dinner. Otherwise, just battening and waiting. The eye of the storm looks like it will be pulling east, which is good for Portland and bad for Downeast and Nova Scotia. But we're still going to be socked.