If you see a flying monkey, you know I'm toast

A giant Ash tree sits just outside the window of my home office. Most days it's a beautiful testament to nature, although it sometimes blocks my view of the hood. Which you might call spying, but I call knowing your neighbors.

But that tree is scaring me today. It looks cold, wet and windblown, and frankly a little pissed. The kick-ass wind is bending those branches this way and that - mostly toward me. I even heard it whisper, "Watch out missy. I know you're in there."

And that leaves me with a dilemma. Where do I go to escape this Wizard of Oz-ness with its flying pumpkin and ghost? You might need to check on me later. And if I'm not around, don't go near the tree.