I sheltered inside most of the day. Waited for Hurricane Michael to pass through–for better or worse.
Clouds rotated counterclockwise from north to south. Verification of meteorologist’s predictions, that we were on the “safer” west side of the storm.
From a few early morning sprinkles, came heavy rain. What was yet to come?
This evening, the sun peeked out. It was not as bad as it could have been.
A sobering thought, because my good fortune, meant others weren’t as fortunate.
Television meteorologists struggled to stand, when Michael came ashore. Their tenacity, to cover the weather event, defied logic.
A few remnant, scud clouds, raced counterclockwise, in the evening sky. On the northeast horizon, an ominous cloud wall, left in a rush of madness.
Labor Day weekend is past–after a nice visit with my grandson,
granddaughter-in-law, and Gideon, their large, boisterous, pup.
First rain bands from TS Gordon, just passed through. They made it out in plenty of time.
The storm is predicted to become a level 1 hurricane, by the time it makes landfall this evening. It will be west of here, but we will get plenty of rain, and some wind.
Locals are not panicking–although there was a run on drinking water at local stores. The power going out is the biggest concern.
Everything has been stored and secured. I’ll see everyone on the other side of the storm.
Outer bands from Harvey arrived early this morning.
To say I’m not concerned is an understatement.
Weather forecasters aren’t always on the mark, when they say–up to ten inches of rain between now and Friday.
I’ve never heard a TV meteorologist apologize when their predicted, two feet of partly cloudy, fell as snow on streets and driveways.
We’ve been through flooding rains before. Nevertheless, I wouldn’t want my house to flood again.
Harvey, doesn’t seem to want to go away.
This happened thirteen years ago. Memories are still fresh. Living permanently in an RV was far different from vacationing in one. Fleeing a major hurricane, towing one’s home was the highlight. Witnessing hurricane destruction, upon returning, was the low light. A list, slightly revised, of RV living annoyances.
- The unfortunate mouse and the fan
- Awnings, storms, fun with the wind
- Propane gas fails–before breakfast, before dawn
- Mud daubers, rains, rumbles on the roof
- Evil overloads–snap, snap, snap went the breakers
- Blinding sunrises, through bedroom windows, in my eyes
- Afraid of the dark neighbors, with searchlight night lights
- Couldn’t sleep, thin walls knew no secrets
- Winter winds, frozen hoses, cold noses–baby it’s cold inside
- I felt the earth move–with every step you took
- Hurricane repair, contractor neighbors, partied from dusk till dawn
- Evacuation gridlock stretched for miles and miles before we slept
Everything started out great. Sunny skies, the birds were happy.
Then, it all changed. Old-fashioned thunderstorms with plenty of lightning and heavy rain, roared for four hours.
Unofficially, the amount of rain was between 6 and 7 inches.
The worst part was the electricity snapping on and off. Not good for appliances or computers.
A little gift from a deep low-pressure system parked off the Texas-Louisiana coast. We have guests coming in, they may find it to be a rainy week.
Maybe I’ve been taking it too easy lately and liking it too much? Every day I pass a vacant lot with circular concrete driveway and sidewalks.
Someone’s dream home gone one September night. There’s a lovely pier–which pelicans use. What did the house look like before the hurricane?
A custom made concrete post with embedded mailbox inscribed 8951 greets passers-by. The nine is missing, but the outline can be clearly seen. Why does this haunt me?
Discarded real estate signs litter the prime waterfront property. Nobody seems to be interested. There’s been a mini building boom this year–four new houses.
Overgrown shrubbery hides memories of ghostly desperate voices from eleven years ago. The monument to storm surge destruction, at 8951, remains a mystery.