Here There and Everywhere

Expat wanderer

Never a Dull Moment: Hurricane Nate

 

We breathed a sigh of relief when the crew came and took down our hurricane protection on the upper story. Our house has been very dim on the upper level with the ballistic covering over the windows. That was ummm . . . . Monday? Tuesday?

Wednesday, we started hearing little rumblings about a fast-developing storm called Nate. By Friday, many activities for this weekend have been cancelled, even some church services on Sunday. Our guidance was “even if you are signed up to read or to sing in the choir, if it is a hurricane, DON’T COME.” You have to spell things like this out for Episcopalians, or they will kill themselves trying to keep a promise, to fulfill a duty.

Everyone has been sort of sure that the storm will head toward New Orleans, as it usually does. We don’t wish New Orleans any harm, we all love New Orleans and it is a favorite overnight or weekend getaway. They, in turn, love Pensacola Beach, and many spend a week or a month here ever summer. So they are our neighbors and we wish them well. But would we voluntarily take a hurricane for them . . . ? I’m not so sure.

I was up this morning at six, checking the most recent weather channel forecasts, and it doesn’t look good. Even if we get peripheral winds, they could be up to 100 mph. Just to be doing something to calm myself, I hit good old Home Depot for a tarp or two. I was home before eight, and AdventueMan was up sorting through the hurricane protection bags, the ones we just put away. The ones we just put away THIS WEEK.

As we are trying to prioritize, our contractor and his crew that installed the hurricane protection called and said he was in the neighborhood, did we want their help getting the protection back up. What a relief.

If we had done it yesterday, when the humidity was low and the temperatures were lower, it might have been a piece of cake, but this morning, even with the garage door open, we were sweating buckets just sorting out the upstairs and downstairs covers.

The crew is here now. I had to scurry to take a shower; did not want to give someone putting up window protection a bad shock. I have the cat cages ready to go, and extra food. I have a couple loads of laundry ready to be washed and dried, and I have packed the emergency bag in case we need to leave in a hurry.  Extra money, important papers, a couple days worth of clothing. Shoes. Underwear. I’ll pack my computer with me, and I hope I remember my charger. Having had to do things now and then in a big hurry, I know that sometimes your mind goes on hold and your forget the most essential thing. AdventureMan filled his gas tank, and will put up the garage supports when we get home from the movie this afternoon (the hurricane is not expected to hit until early tomorrow morning).

And, honestly, when you live with hurricanes, their terrifying power (as the Psalm says “terrify them with your hurricane”) you learn that the most important things of all are not things, but the people you hold most dear. Everything else can be replaced.

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October 7, 2017 Posted by | Adventure, Circle of Life and Death, Community, Cultural, Family Issues, Hurricanes, Living Conditions, Pensacola, Survival, Weather | | 3 Comments

Random Trains

I’m on my way home from the Y, and the gates go down and a train goes by. Car after car go by, and each segment has an armored personnel carrier, a sturdy military truck, or a desert jeep.

 

The train keeps coming, so I take another shot. When I am looking at photos, the second one is odd; I can’t figure out how this little picture of a man got into the far left of the photo. Then I look closely; it is a billboard ad for a local personal injury attorney in Pensacola.

October 5, 2017 Posted by | Local Lore, Pensacola | 1 Comment

The Shakey-Head Response

 

“Where are the empty sacks upstairs from yesterday’s commissary run?” AdventureMan hollers from upstairs.

I am folding dried sheets that need ironing before our next house guests come. He comes down the stairs, asking again when I don’t answer.

“They are upstairs in the linen closet, on the ground level toward the right middle,” I respond, proud of myself for not saying “where they ALWAYS are.”

He shakes his head, no.

I just look at him. Coldly. After forty four years of marriage, I no longer drop everything to run go get him something he needs, especially when I am busy trying to finish things up before our house cleaner gets here, just as he is. He gets the message.

In thirty seconds, he hollers down “I found them!” and I holler back “Thank you for giving me that feed-back.”

I can hear the laughter in his voice when he responds “I knew you needed that feedback after my shake-head response.”

October 4, 2017 Posted by | Civility, Communication, Cultural, Family Issues, Humor, Living Conditions, Random Musings, Relationships | Leave a comment