Archives 2004 - Mother Nature Speaks - Storms 3 and 4

September 9, 2004 - Here We Go...Again

Our area is in a state of depression. I just want to lie down and go to sleep. We frantically scrambled around before Hurricane Charley. We sat through Tropical Storm Frances without electricity. Now we are awaiting Hurricane Ivan. Three storms in less than a month. Will it ever end?

Ivan is a Category 5 storm. That means winds of over 160 mph. It's path is headed directly our way. We have dodged two storms threatening to head our way. Is three a charm? Has luck run out? The lines at the grocery, gas stations, and home improvement stores are three deep. Most places are out of everything including water and wood. Tempers are short, but mostly we are all resigned, sad, and just plain weary.

My husband has never been one to panic. He never rushes out during these storms to stock up on anything. He pooh poohs me when I gasp that I don't have the gallon a day per person water supply. His motto is that if the garage blows away, so will the hurricane supplies. Yet, yesterday he left our house at 5:50 a.m. to take our load of debris from the last storm to the dump. He returned with wood to board up our windows. He made me go out at 10:00 p.m. to get gas and more water. I was lucky I followed his orders seeing how the lines and shelves are today. Even he is worried. He even suggested sending me out of the state with the kids. Several of my friends have done so. I am torn. I don't want to leave my house or my husband. I'm not in an evacuation area, but can my house sustain that kind of wind? Can my oak tree? Am I able to protect my children? My god, will this ever end?

September 12, 2004 - Da Na Nun Nun...Batman

We are hunkered down in the Bat Cave. I have yet to see Robin, but Batman himself is a hard working, strong and resilient type of man. When he is not off making his millions (cough) via government work, he is at the Bat Cave measuring, sawing, cutting, hanging, drilling, and hammering. His knuckles are raw. His back is sore. His arms are tired and still he carries on with chores such as mowing, and grilling Bat Steaks. He ventures out of the Bat Cave to help others in need. He is a hero to many in his neighborhood. He is definitely a hero to his family. If he is out fighting hurricanes this coming week, his family will be safe and sound inside the Bat Cave. Thanks to him.

September 13, 2004 - Life in the Bat Cave

I awoke this morning in the Bat Cave unsure if it were day or night. It is very hard to be productive in the cave. There is only darkness, and it is a deep, mind numbing darkness that threatens to put us under. To save ourselves from hours of slumber we must turn on the harsh artificial light that shows every blemish and gray hair. The light sends out a dingy glow that illuminates but a small portion of the cave, and we walk around squinting at the objects and people that lurk in dark corners. If we should exit one of the rooms with light, we must then walk Frankenstein like, arms outstretched in front, for fear of banging into other lurking objects/people. It is interesting how doors close on their own and how furniture shifts from place to place in the Bat Cave. One must be careful.

It is hard to remember to eat when at the cave. The kitchen is not the friendly, welcoming alcove of cheerfulness that I once remembered. In the Bat Cave it is a closed-in, dank, and dirty room with the refrigerator gleaming in the artificial glow. The floor is always sticky, and balls of Cap't Crunch roll under my feet. It is enough to make me turn tail and run, forgetting why I entered in the first place.

Leaving the Bat Cave for brief or extended periods of time is a tad difficult in the beginning. I must close my eyes, put on sunglasses, and place my hands over all of that. Slowly, one at a time I remove first one hand, then the other, slowly opening one eye, and then the other. Never remove the glasses! I must stand in the sunlight outside of the cave until my eyes, and eventually my body, are adjusted to fresh air and light. It is hard then not to fun far, far away from the cave once I have experienced the outside. But then the terror of what is out there, makes me want to run back to the safety and familiarity of the Bat Cave. It is a Catch 22.

September 16, 2004 - Let's Go to the Beach

We have been spared once again. Ivan didn't attack us directly and instead drifted north. Last night my family ventured out to the beach at dusk. We had heard that several parts of the beach accesses were closed due to rising water from Hurricane Ivan. My husband decided we needed to get out and witness this occurrence.

The Gulf of Mexico is close to my house. Last night it reminded me more of the Atlantic Ocean instead of the peaceful, serene Gulf. My children actually saw waves. The waves were amazing, considering Ivan was 300 miles from us. Professional and amateur surfer dudes were out riding the waves, providing the crowd with entertainment not normally seen in these parts. Everyone was out with cameras that flashed so often I thought it was lightning. There was a slight breeze, not like the one after Frances, but milder and warmer. Children were everywhere. My girls took off their shoes and walked down to the water's edge. When the waves broke, they would run screaming up the shore trying to avoid the frothy foam. It was impossible to do so since the tide was as high as I've seen it. It was also strong, and parents were holding the little ones hands as they stood splashing and frolicking in the surf. It was the best time I've had at the beach in ages. I felt so carefree and giddy. Everyone around me was like that.

We were all giddy! We were happy, out of our caves, relieved, and darn lucky. Again. For weeks we have been holed up in our boarded up houses, some without electricity, some with flooded rooms. We have waited in long lines. We have been stressed, tense, and exhausted with worry. Tonight was a release for us. Ivan had passed us by. We had survived yet another threat. We get to get our homes, our belongings, our electricity, and our lives. Tomorrow will bring sadness and despair for those neighbors to our north, but tonight, tonight was for us.

September 25, 2004 - Been There, Done That

We had plans to go out to dinner tonight, and when I stepped outside to remind my husband of that, I found him knee deep in boards. I might have started shrieking at the sight. He calmly told me that Hurricane Jeanne is headed for us and HE HAS TO BUILD THE BAT CAVE.

Yeah, well I've been diagnosed with high blood pressure.

September 26, 2004 - If You Can't Take the Heat and the Hurricanes...

• We are again without power. The kids and I were in the middle of an episode of Arthur. It was one we had not seen before, and D.W. was giving up her crib and moving to a big girl bed, and I was all motherly and weepy thinking about my own girls going through that, when WHOOSH. The TV turned off, on, off, on, off, on and it wouldn't stop doing this. Then suddenly...nothing. Everything stopped. No lights. No air conditioning. No TV. Just the beeping of our USB systems back up battery letting us know the power is off. Time: Sunday at 8:45 a.m.
• I'm hot. My house is hot. I'm hungry, but I can't open the refrigerator. I have not had my coffee. The wind is roaring outside, and although my neighbor who-never-looses-power-across-the-street has offered some coffee, I am too nervous to trek outside to get it. Time: 9:30 a.m.
• I have decided that the only way to survive is to go to sleep. I go to bed in my room, but the howling of the wind is furious, and I lie there imagining the oak tree swinging and swaying outside my Bat Cave boarded up windows. I move to my daughter's room. I go to sleep listening to my husband tickle the ivories on the piano. Time: 11:00 a.m.
• I awake to my daughter tickling the same ivories and realize there isn't much difference between the two tickles. Both could use some lessons. Time: 2:15 p.m.
• I have only one land line phone. It is in the garage. It is hard to hear it ringing over the howling of the wind, but we manage. I was talking to my friend, a princess who has never lost electricity before today and is having a meltdown, when I hear wild banging on my garage door. I mention said banging to my friend when I see an object hurtling by in the wind outside my garage window. "My god," I shriek. "Something orange just flew by. Oh no, something, no, someone, a human, just flew by my garage window. I have to go!" I hang up and run into the house searching for my husband. We must help this person caught in the storm! I run into the back room and find my husband entering it through the back door. He is sopping wet. He was the human flying by the window. He was putting pieces of wood under the garage door to keep it from flying open. While he was doing this, a piece of our playhouse that had been taken apart and was lying curbside, flew by. He chased it. Time: 2:30 p.m.
• We have TV for snatches at a time. One of the back up batteries is hooked to my childhood blue 2" screen TV. We can watch the news to see how Hurricane, now Tropical Storm, Jeanne is doing. She is coming into our area now. Winds are between 50-74 mph. Through the windows of our playroom, which is not boarded, we watch the oranges and grapefruit on our neighbor's tree fall to the ground at rapid speed. My mouth waters at the thought of a glass of orange juice. Time: 3:30 p.m.
• Our neighbor-who-never-looses-power-across-the-street has invited us to dinner again. She is making a big pot of spaghetti. We are to come at 6:00 for dinner, air conditioning, and TV. Only two hours to go.

September 28, 2004 - The Aftermath

My idea of camping is going to the Red Roof Inn instead of the Hyatt. This whole being without electricity is slowly taking its toll. Last hurricane I lasted three days before losing it. This time I barely made it through day one. Yesterday was a beautiful Florida day with clear skies, sunshine, and a high in the 90's. In my house it is hotter than that. I have to find restaurants for meals. I crave comfort food.

Batman went to work in his air conditioned office, yet I know he is worried about all of the hurricane clean up left in our yard. We lost a shingle on our roof. Our oak tree dropped more branches. We lost a huge limb again. I tried to help. I got a friend to saw apart the large oak limb. Another friend and I raked and bagged five bags of debris. I bribed my daughters and their friends with money to pick up limbs. I removed the final board from the last window. I trudged to the laundry mat and ran three loads. I took several cold showers and drank lots of water.

Then night fell. Have I mentioned the darkness? The nothing to do here in the dark house? The fact there is no noise? No breeze coming through the windows? At 2:30 a.m. my youngest lost it. She sobbed and begged me to find some air conditioning. I took her outside to the pool deck. There was a full moon and the hum of someone's generator. I made up beds on the pool lounge chairs with beach towels and pillows. We lay next to each other and whispered stories. A gentle breeze kicked up and began to cool our bodies, and before we knew it we drifted off to sleep.

It wasn't the greatest bed for my soon to be 40 year old body, but it was better than my bed in that stale, hot house. I slept, dreaming of breakfast. When we woke at daybreak, we felt refreshed. We headed to McDonald's before school. McDonald's was without air conditioning. Will this ever end?

September 30, 2004 - Thinking About...

• Why we parents have forgotten how great it was to have a "snow" day.
• Having an artist paint pretty murals on the inside of the boards we use to build the Bat Cave
• Buying cheap candles to use in power outages instead of my expensive PartyLite candles.
• Doughnuts, ding dongs, and chocolate chip cookies
• Generators.