Hurricane Ophelia
Hurricane Virgins–No More!
Friday, September 5th, 2008 | Hurricanes | No Comments
I apologize for a late blog today. It has been a busy one preparing for Hurricane Hanna. She is expected to come through the Hwy. 17 corridor and cross the Pamlico River during the night tonight. It seems oncoming catastrophes always create dilemmas. My dilemma this time is where to spend the night tonight. Should I go to City Hall with my hubby who has to be there? Or should I stay at home through the storm with the Kit Kat (our precious kitty)? If I choose to go to City Hall, KK will have to spend her time there in a cage while I sleep on a cot and contemplate the ghosts of post offices past. You see the City Hall was once a federal post office and courthouse—think of all the possible ghosts just waiting to ride out of town on a hurricane! Instead of going postal, they could get out of town forever by going coastal! I can just see those postal ghosts now, toasting in the Caribbean sand with their gray Bermuda shorts. Of course, I won’t be worried about the ones that are leaving when I sleep in the spooky old place, I’ll be worried about the ones that stayed! I believe I’ll take my chances in our 1924 bungalow this time.
Well, it is true—we’re no longer hurricane virgins. Our first experience happened three years ago when Ophelia tried to break our hearts (do you know that song?) as she blew through Washington. We had just renovated our aforementioned bungalow, when the firemen knocked on the door with a mandatory evacuation notice. That was a shocker—especially since my hubby worked at City Hall! I wasn’t too worried until a short time later our neighbor across the street began moving all of her furniture out of the house and loaded onto what looked like a moving van. That’s when we got creative about how high you can get a new couch off of the floor. It was amazing how high you really can stack furniture without everything tumbling down like building blocks stacked too tall. We did such a good job, I took pics of it all—because I knew I’d never remember how we did it the next time. We survived with no major damage—mostly duct tape residue on the window frames. The next year Ernesto came our way, with more water than Ophelia—but no evacuation order, thank goodness. We actually ventured out on the front porch during the blow and videotaped footage that was posted on a local news website. The funniest thing that happened during Ernesto was a pontoon boat floated ashore and was beached on the railroad track at Havens Garden in front of our house. The automated signals interpreted the pontoon boat to be an oncoming train, which started the signal lights and lowered the crossing guard. It stayed that way until about ten local guys lifted the boat off the track a few hours later.
So, we are ready this time. We’ve moved all of the furniture from the front porch and the Tiki Hut in the back yard. (You’re probably thinking that anyone with a Tiki Hut in their back yard is asking for it from a hurricane!) We moved the boat, fueled the cars, charged the batteries, filled up the bathtub, bought bread and milk that we didn’t need, and ate all the leftovers in the fridge for supper. Of course, since we are ready—nothing will really come of it—we hope.
I’ll take some notes tonight and give you a blow by blow tomorrow.
Until then, good night from De Ja Vu and I promise not to be so word clever tomorrow.