The wind really got out of hand the night before last. We could here it rattling who knows what all night long. Not long after waking up, a huge gust flew in through the door we keep cracked so that the cat has access to his litter box. Across the room, a frame that holds some awesome Buffy artwork from my cousin Shelly instantly fell from where it had been leaning against the wall. David tried to carefully remove it from where it teetered on the edge of the cabinet, but a large shard fell from the frame, smashing on the floor below it.
The letter S was the unfortunate one
We quickly closed the door before anything else could be destroyed... inside the apartment, at least.
Before I came to Spain, David attached some privacy panels all along the railing of our terrace.
See the yellow things there?
Just fifteen minutes after the cleanup of our first little disaster, David watched as the wind ripped one of these panels from the railing. We called his parents, with whom we were to be meeting shortly, in order to delay our plans. We used the ties that had "secured" the panel to reinforce the remaining three.
After lunch we headed to the store where both victims had been purchased. On the way, we passed our apartment and noticed that, CRAP, another panel had broken. We purchased two of the thicker and hopefully much stronger alternative, and headed back to the apartment, where, CRAP, a third had bit the dust.
David is busy prepping for an interview tomorrow, and the wind hasn't completely resided, so we haven't gotten the new panels up yet. As we live on the seventh floor, our cat is now quarantined in the house. We just don't feel all that confident in his... er... astuteness, and believe it would be a matter of hours before curiosity quite literally killed the cat. His litter box remains on the balcony, where we've put the best barrier we could craft to prevent him from going beyond it. He can still jump it, though, so he has to be constantly monitored during potty time. He's great at cueing us to let him out with his not-so-subtle whining/meowing. The only problem is that most of the time he wants to go out, it's not to go to the bathroom, but rather, to annoy us. What is it with cats and closed doors?
Overwhelmed with the money we had to spend on replacing damaged goods, and the time we've spent and have yet spend resolving the matter, I said to David, "You know what? I really don't mind taking care of problems that I caused, or problems that you caused, or even problems that the cat caused... but dealing with shit that the WIND caused? That's just not tolerable." Seriously. Thanks a lot, wind!