Cleolinda Jones (cleolinda) wrote,
Cleolinda Jones
cleolinda

Journal of a Hurricane Year (part 2)

So. I am not willing to say that the storm has passed, lest I jinx the whole thing, but the winds got pretty bad between noon and 1 pm, and now we're back to the sulky rain. I'm hearing that the hurricane has shifted over towards Atlanta, which--well, sorry, guys, but better y'all than us, because we are totally not prepared for crap like this. Not that Atlanta is, but--come on, it's so much bigger that it's got to have better resources than we do.

Actually, my neighborhood held out pretty well, I think. The power would literally go out every thirty minutes, then every five as it got worse, and all the appliances would roar back to life and then die back down again. I think my parents must have the patience of Job, because they were sacked out under blankets in the den watching the local news on TV, and the power would go out, and George would reach over and turn on the radio to the same station, and when the power came back, they'd turn the TV right back on and the radio off. I went downstairs about one o'clock to make a sandwich, and I swear I watched them do this five different times: TV. Radio. TV. Radio. TV. Radio. And the whole time, neither of them said a word. And it was annoying when I just said fuck it this morning and went back to bed, and my lights kept turning themselves on every five minutes when the power would come back, but really? If this is the worst hardship we faced, we got out of it with the luck of the angels.

I did take a picture of the fallen tree with my camera (and aren't we just slutty decadent with the technology now?), which you can see here. (I had to up the contrast and take down the gamma so you could see it more clearly. Also, yes: that is my thumb on the side. Shut up.) Both halves have now fallen--well, you can see one sad eighth of the tree refusing to fall down in the middle. One-Eighth Tree, I salute you.

(Also, since I'm cleaning pictures off my phone: The elusive Lucky Dog. Meko poses for the camera. Sam doesn't like cameras so much. Oh, and because it had to be done. Scary how easily the "broken ox" icon adapted.)

Oh, and I got about six pages of plot and character notes written on my seven orphans story, although they turned out to be six after I took another head count. Hmm. Maybe the seventh will show up later.

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