Hurricane Season

I'm starting to freak out about hurricane season, which starts June 1. Everyone is. We still have blue tarps covering the roof, because the roofers are still too busy repairing last year's damage to keep up with the demand. The local newspaper reminds us that another storm will finish us off. They tell us to stock up now on plywood, candles, lanterns, generators and packets of mayonnaise. They print recipes for Ramen noodles and peanut butter. Some people already have their shutters up.

This is not bad advice, considering the fact that four hurricanes hit Florida in 2004. Two of them, three weeks apart, were direct hits for us. Note the paths of Frances and Jeanne. Oh, and Jeanne was the cruel one. Notice how she pretended to head off into the North Atlantic, then circled back around and slammed right into us as a Category 3.

The scorching heat is already here. The afternoon thunderstorms are already here. The 100% humidity is already here. Hurricane season is upon us. Am I ready? Hardly. I know that when a storm begins to make its way across the Atlantic I'll be glued to the weather reports. Fear will set in. Then panic. Then I'll rush around madly, filling the tub with water, making ice, bringing in loose objects, stocking up on beer, organizing all the screws in the garage...a total nervous wreck! Wait, the shutters! Make more ice! Scrounge for batteries, because by now you can't find any for sale within 200 miles. Did I make enough ice? Oh, God! Bottled water...do we have enough bottled water? Where are the cats? Make more ice.

It's even worse when you've been through one before, because you already know how awful it is. If you haven't been through one, you cannot relate. This year I might even try some weed for my nerves. Then again, that might make me paranoid, and I already have that wrapped.

Frances stalled off our coast and took 18 hours to pass through. The damage was unbelievable. We lost all of the tree canopy in our yard. Huge limbs were snapped off like matchsticks. The entire tops of two trees blocked both the front and back doors. We were without power for 9 days with Frances, only 4 with Jeanne. Cold showers didn't bother me too much, considering the overwhelming heat. Lines for gas bothered me. No traffic lights at the intersections bothered me. The neighbors' noisy generators bothered me (and made me envious). Having to venture out on roads full of debris, downed power lines and no traffic lights to scrounge for food bothered me.

Those were old mango trees, 40' high, which shaded the whole back yard. Now only the main trunks are left standing. Lying across the back is a 65' bamboo which was ripped right out of the ground. The root mass is 12' high!

No, I'm not ready at all.