Katrina and Me

Like all of you, I’ve been watching Katrina coverage with interest– the wind, the rain, the flooding, the reporters-risking-their-lives-and-for-what?!-for-WHAT?! I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that Katrina was headed our way, but we’re comfortably inland- as in, several states from any ocean. So I wasn’t exactly worried about it.

But by yesterday afternoon, all schools in our general vicinity had announced they would be closed today. Forecasters were predicting 3-6 inches of rain and wind gusts up to 60mph. People, that’s A MAJOR NEWS EVENT, and our local TV stations acted accordingly. Reporters began showing up on-air in rain gear and strapping themselves to nearby trees in preparation- anchors even put on rain gear inside their studios (I mean that hair took hours, right? No sense in ruining it when the roof is ripped from the studio). I also heard a rumor that our local weather forecasters started a riot at the local Walgreen’s for the last bottle of No-Doz. And this was long before the storm actually arrived.

Admittedly, after a few hours of watching fear and panic in New Orleans, I myself was packing my evacuation bag and wondering what the hell we were going to do with the beagle. “Snap out of it!” I told myself, but I couldn’t resist the urge to race to the nearest supermarket and stock up on water, candles and two weeks of food. I was joined there by at least a hundred other cable news watchers doing the very same thing. Brainwashed by Shepard Smith’s last rites on Bourbon Street and Geraldo’s dire prophecies that this was The Big One, we were preparing for our own Armageddon, a thousand miles away.

Lucky me. This morning, I sit snugly and smugly at home as the local news watchers, who weren’t brainwashed until yesterday, fight over the last bag of Bunny Bread and search for a gas station that isn’t out of gas. We’re currently in the eye of the storm, according to the weather demi-gods on TV, which means that I awoke this morning to total calm outside. But the wind is supposed to pick up again later on this morning.

My only moment of excitement so far came about six hours ago. Hubs and I had opened the window last night so that we could fall asleep listening to the rain. At about 3 am, I woke to the sound of a train that apparently jumped its tracks and was headed straight for our house. Well, that’s what I heard. What I saw when I jumped out of bed was every tree in our front yard bent sideways, trying to withstand an incredible wind.

“Oh my God! Oh my God!” I shouted, slamming the window shut. As Hubs sat up, I felt a little sheepish. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen strong wind before.

“It’s okay,” I said. “The wind’s just started blowing really hard.” I cracked the window back open a bit and sat down so that I could feel for myself what a tropical storm was like. It was pretty amazing. No thunder or lightning, just a light rain and a forceful, roaring wind. Suddenly, a small branch came flying into the screen with a light thwap, inches from my face. I reacted accordingly.

“BwaHHHHH!” I screamed. Hubs was briefly alarmed, but the embarrassed look on my face when I faced him turned his “Huh?” into a “Hmmph.” Still, he decided to go downstairs and see if there were any tornado warnings posted on TV.

Nothing. Nope. We were all clear. As the wind began to die down, we went back to sleep. There were plenty of accidents on the roads this morning because of all the standing water, but all seems to be okay for the most part. I’m a little worried about effects of the high winds on the forest of trees directly behind our house, but since we get a fair amount of tornado-spawning storms in our area, I’m used to this worry, so I think we’re all going to be okay.

I have thought about what it would have been like to experience this 200 years ago, when there were no warnings, no watches, just a quick “TAKE COVER!!” from whomever happened to be outside when the storm hit. We’re so lucky that we can evacuate, or at least stock our pantries, buy our candles and jigsaw puzzles and snuggle up inside a (hopefully brick) home. Imagine how much worse Katrina would have been if no one had known she was arriving.

So there it is…. My tropical storm story. I make light of the situation here because we love to panic over nothing, but my thoughts and prayers are with all those who live along the coast, many of whom are wondering right now if they still have a house to go home to. Hope all of you reading this now are safe and sound,too.