Run from the water; hide from the wind.
Or so the saying goes these days in Houston.
I'm fortunate that I'm not near enough to the water to have to run, but since I live in a heavily wooded community, I am going to probably be hiding in an interior closet by this time tomorrow.
My day today started early, though not by choice. I can't even blame the dogs (I'm taking care of a friend's mini dachshund while she is away.) My sleep was troubled by worries about all the debris in the backyard. It's in a rather... natural... state. In other words, I don't do yardwork. I pay Javier to mow my front lawn twice a month, but since the Yard Nazis don't care about the back yard, I just let it be. The mini-doxie is scared to go back there. I finally got back to sleep, only to have the alarm go off early because of a doctor appointment downtown.
I was still nervous while I sat and ate my kolache before my appointment. As I fretted, a car pulled up to the front of the bakery. It could best be described as a clown car, because people kept climbing out of it, just like at the circus. As they came in the door, I counted: one mom and four small children, all under the age of seven. Watching her was like watching someone try to herd cats. Each wanted a different drink (determined after extended vocal deliberation in front of the open refrigerator), and a different kolache. The second-youngest, the only boy, walked over to a table (a different table than Mom had pointed to), and carefully set down his three treasures -- plastic Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman dolls -- only to be told by his older sister to move so she could sit there. This led to much deliberation about where each should sit. Meanwhile, Mom is trying to tell the counter guy what each was drinking and eating, while trying to talk on her cell phone. Apparently it was the boy's birthday. Did he want to talk to his aunt? No! (head turns away) But she wants to wish you a happy birthday.. (The other three girls: Happy Birthday, Lucas!) Still No. She signs off to the aunt, only to have the phone ring again: Grampa. Did the boy want to talk to Grampa? OK. Tell him what you got for your birthday. I got Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman, Grampa. Bye! Meanwhile the girls are chatting merrily while trying to demolish open their milk cartons. Mom signs off from Grampa looking like she could use an adult beverage at 7:39 am. I can't control my giggling, and as she glances my way she starts to laugh too. I smile and tell her I'm amazed she has no gray hair by now. She laughs and says "Only two are mine, the others are just visiting!" I ask her if she heard the mayor's 7am press conference announcing Houston schools will be closed tomorrow.
Her look of dread is priceless.
Apparently, the only thing worse that a hurricane is being stuck at home for three days with four kids during one.
My problems seem comparitively small.
After my appointment I head to work. Traffic is unusually heavy. Every other SUV on the road is packed to the max. And they're all driving like the Hound of the Baskervilles is on their tail.
Evacuees. Crap. What's traffic going to be like at 5pm?
At work I can barely concentrate. My coworker, who starts work at 5:30 am (I never knew that there were two 5:30's in the day until I met her) has decided to leave early to prepare her house for the hurricane. (She has, by last count, 4 dogs, 4 cats, at least two rabbits, a prairie dog, and eight butterfly tents to bring inside. I don't blame her for leaving early!)
As I work, I decide to leave early as well, as soon as the must-do's are finished. I don't have a lot of vacation days left, but I'll trade half a day for the peace of mind of having time to get ready for the hurricane. I talk to my boss, and she is ok with my plan to leave early. I'm surprised that, by the time I leave, there hasn't been an announcement that the office will be closed tomorrow. Since the mayor has strongly urged all non-essential businesses to close tomorrow, this seems illogical to me. (For Hurricane Rita, my company gave us TWO free days off, PLUS a free 24-pack of water bottles, and made our stock of batteries available for employee purchase at cost. Unfortunately, upper management has apparently changed in the past 3 years...) As I drive toward home, the radio announces that contraflow lanes will be established after the evening drive time. I call my boss to let her know this, since it means that no one who lives north of the office will be able to get to the office. She says she'll let them know. Almost three hours later, she calls to let me know the office will indeed be closed Friday. Thank God. One less worry.
I forgot to mention, my sister called me at work. She said, "Remember when we were going through Mom's stuff, and we found those "I LIKE IKE" buttons? Well, if they hadn't burned up in the fire at Arrowhead, I'd send them to you so you can wear them proudly when the wind blows!" I'm laughing so hard, my cubicle-mates as me what's so funny. I tell them, and soon they're laughing too. (Ironically, there's a whole lot of people my age who don't know who Ike was, other than Turner. And even more people under 30 who probably have don't know either one.) I promise to call her after the storm.
I get home, and immediately change into shorts and sneakers and head to the Jungle backyard. I soon realize that doing yardwork in the blazing afternoon sun is exhausting (Doh!). I decide on a work-15-minutes, go-inside-for-30-minutes schedule is the best I can do. It takes me all afternoon and into the evening, but in the end I have six bundles and three kitchen trash bags full of branches and twigs stacked in the garage. This is by no means all of the debris in my yard. Yes, I know that a pine needle in a strong hurricane can break glass. But it would be like trying to collect all of the sand on a beach. At least the branches that can do the most damage are safe now. Next inside, the patio furniture and my collection of clay statuettes (ducks, squirrels, etc.). Finally, I bring in the maglight from the car, and collapse on the couch. What a day.
So, tomorrow will be comparatively lazy: doing laundry, trying to clean house (note to self: you MUST find the next book of checks), and doing spot-checks of the yards to make sure no other branches have fallen in the storm-before-the-hurricane. Can't really do anything else, since most stores are closing tonight and most gas stations are either jammed or out of gas. But, I'm not really worried. As the saying goes, if you have time to worry, you have time to pray. So I plan on doing that, too. (And catching up on the 27 episodes of Cash Cab that are taking up space in the DVR...)
If you find you have time tomorrow, say a prayer for us in Houston. We haven't had a direct-hit hurricane since Alicia in 83, haven't had a really bad tropical storm since Alicia, and haven't had an ice storm in the last year that would clear out the dead trees and branches. So most people are either complacent, or, like me, have no idea what a serious hurricane is like.
Hide.