Stormy Weather

As I leave the pancake breakfast, all fat and happy, I text Scott. "On my way!"

He texts back, "Be careful. I am getting a little worried about the storm!"

I text, "What is the over under on me finding a generator at a store near you?"

"LOL"

All of the coastal towns are preparing for Frankenstorm, the storm that will combine a hurricane, cold fronts, a blizzard and all manner of other nastiness from Mother Nature. The storm of the century (again). I have a better chance at an audience with the Pope than I do at getting a generator.

The weekend is filled with storm preparations, cooking in advance and generalized anxiety.  We made time for fun, and for watching Gidget playfully romp with the five dogs, but it is hard to keep calm when you think your house might blow away a la The Wizard of Oz. The grocery stores are jammed with people, the shelves are empty. Gas lines are huge. People are waiting in line at supply stores for plywood and anything resembling a generator. Scott is trying to secure his boat. Has moved all of his outdoor stuff into the garage.

By Sunday, I am a wreck. Gidget and I head for home early.  I can feel myself shaking a little in Scott's arms as he kisses me goodbye at my car.  I have no idea what the next few days will bring and I have to go home and get as prepared as I can for what lies ahead:  days on end by myself while the wrath of Mother Nature tries to blow and blow and blow my house down.

I stop at the grocery store. I have to get a few things that I know I can eat without any preparation. I am sure I'll lose electricity and will need to keep my strength while I bail water from my basement all day and night when my sump pump fails.  Given the experience at Scott's grocery store, I am not hopeful.

The grocery store near me is nothing like the one near Scott. The shelves are stocked, people aren't frantic. They are roaming around socializing and drinking coffee, squeezing bread, checking labels. Does no one know a storm is coming?

I buy some staples for my cupboard, some food for the cats, kitty litter and firewood.  If my power goes out, at least I have a small chance of survival.

I go home and take the few remaining lawn items into the garage. No one needs an airborne park bench hurtling through the front window.

I prepare a large basket of things to take with me if I have to dash from the house. Important papers. Kitty supplies. A bag of clothes. Some things Hil asked me to rescue up front.

I make a meatloaf and hard boil all of my eggs. I fill pitchers with fresh water and freeze bags of water to use later either to drink or to keep things cold when my fridge peeters out.

I gather candles, flashlights and rainboots and buckets.

I am a total wreck. 

I walk outside and survey the neighborhood. I'd like to be able to avoid falling trees.  I move my car around to the front of the house to strategically park it so that it is not as likely to get clobbered by a tree...either my own or someone elses.

I run into my neighbor. He is carrying in cases of water. He asks me if I have a generator and I sheepishly admit to having been shortsighted and not getting one when Hurricane Irene came calling.

He tells me that he has a powerful one. When we lose power, I will be able to hear his generator and he says I am welcome to run a line out the basement window to keep the sump pump fired up. 

Yay me!!!!!

I immediately take to the garage and take every power line from every peice of lawn equipment and string them together. I could go around the block!  I take the whole thing to the basement and get it ready so that I can act fast as the water flows around my ankles. I will be able to do all of this by flashlight, I am sure.

I get an email from work. There has been a state of emergency declaration. Non-essential personnel are not to report. I can sleep in. I wish it felt like fun.

And as the sun sets, and the wind picks up, I sit down to watch the weather station and wait for the lights to go out. It is a long, lonely wait, with days of uncertainty stretching out ahead.