Come on Irene

Patently, I am no hurricane expert. We don't really get them in dear safe England, with its much lambasted, but actually very temperate, climate.

But - speaking from my position of total ignorance - it looks to me like Irene would have to make a bit of a sharp left to follow the path the NY Times map has her taking.

Still, Mayor Bloomberg is in charge. Since he told us yesterday to be ready to evacuate, I've had this little stack of essentials neatly lined up on my desk.

On reflection, it's looking a little grey outside now. Maybe I won't need the sunglasses. But the lipgloss is still an essential. Also essential, the tabbouleh and chips we bought in case we couldn't cook or get out to eat this weekend. And several bottles of wine so we can dodge the Bryant Park Hotel mark up.

Just one last question remains. Which shoes? We are hoping to make it across the street to Andaz, which has a great bar. Every girl knows wedges are more practical. But how will that raffia effect cope with puddles?

I have decided the metallic effect, and that little 0.5 inch platform, will be just the ticket for negotiating a rain soaked 2 minute walk.

And as I blog and faff around with shoes TLOML has filled the bath with water (Bloomberg's suggestion) and moved the TV away from the window.

I think we're hurricane ready.