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"Well, folks, you may not get regular updates this week. I&amp;#039;m writing this on Sunday night after a weekend of careful prep for my good pal, Hurricane Sandy. Oh, Sandy. Why-y-y-y...that stupid song from the movie &amp;quot;Grease&amp;quot; has been stuck in my head playing over and over as I packed away the carefully put out Halloween decorations, the lawn furniture, and anything else that might become a projectile. We&amp;#039;re about as battened down as we can get - all there is to do now is wait. And I want you to know, I did it all without one phone call to Peter. Not one. In fact, I didn&amp;#039;t hear from him at all until late this evening, and then only because the school district decided to close schools for the next two days and he wanted to know if I got the babysitter to come over. He didn&amp;#039;t ask if we were OK, or even if we needed anything. I don&amp;#039;t know if I&amp;#039;m flattered that he assumes I&amp;#039;ve got everything in hand, or upset because part of me thinks he ought to ask.  That&amp;#039;s what I get for thinking, I suppose. Anyway, so far, so good. Wish us luck, and I&amp;#039;ll leave you with John Travolta, singing us out:      "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.womansday.com/relationships/dating-marriage/a47534/battening-the-hatches/>