I can feel Hurricane Irene coming, by virtue of the fact that I wake up with the headache again. Egad, please don’t let this be the shape of the next few days. This leads to a mental checklist before I’m even out of bed. The fan in the window needs to come out, the window locked, the blinds and curtains closed just in case the glass gets broken. Upper floors, no shutters, not much else I can do there.
What else still needs doing? The easily-forgotten bathroom window. Closed, locked. As the coffee brews I stumble on a few more pitchers and set more water aside. When Floyd went through years ago, the flooding backed up and damaged the water treatment plant that serves my place. We needed to boil water for a ridiculously long time after that. I turn on CNN. A roof torn off in SC. Landfall in NC. I suspect you can tell who’s on the sh*t list with the network by who gets the stand-in-the-storm-all-night-to-report assignment. Historic first-time New York City evacuations are still in progress. The mayor reminds people what he told them last night… that mass transit is shutting down at noon; if that’s your evacuation method, your window is closing. Power may be cut if flooding occurs, no emergency rescue service will be available.
We hope, of course, that the storm is less of an event here than indicated. And yet… if the storm proves to be nothing, people will be less inclined to listen next time.
Breaking news at 9:45AM. Hoboken NJ first-floor units are being evacuated. That’s 10 minutes from the boy. I’ll invite him here, I’m more westward.
Poop. I hope he can bring his own groceries though. Unless he really likes popsicles and oatmeal.