767 miles and closing

I love that Mesquite tree.  What character.  Hold on Mesquite tree, don’t let the wind knock you over!!

Portland, Texas

Wednesday, 1:30 p.m.

Ike

The neighborhood is relatively quiet.  I heard the guy next door mowing earlier (we’ll do that later).  In the distance, the usual traffic noises are quiet.  I can hear a few power saws, an occasional drill, some hammering.  

A handful of houses on our street have the windows boarded, but are still occupied.  I suspect by this evening most of the windows will be boarded.  I think we’ll board tomorrow.  It’s like a cave in here with all the windows covered.  I don’t want to live in a cave any longer than I have to.  

The HEB (grocery store, for those of you outside of South Texas) was much busier than normal at eight o’clock this morning, but still  not crazy.  I’d put money that it’s getting crazier as the day progresses.  

No evacuation orders have been made.  Yet.  Local authorities continue to confer to determine What To Do Next.  

At the high school: corralled chaos.  Parents calling continuously to determine when/if school will be cancelled/dismissed.  Students asking when/if they will be sent home.  Partner tells them that the school’s keeping them at school so they don’t get in the way while their parents prepare.  It’s only a small stretch of the truth.  I suspect the other schools are experiencing an equally agitated population.  I’ll find out when the Sonars come home in a couple of hours.  

I have photographed our home and its contents inside and out.  This is easier than making a list.  I tell myself that this is a good idea, pragmatically.  There’s a tiny emotional part of me that hopes this photographic documentation will not be used for insurance purposes, or to laugh over “what the house looked like before Ike” in 10 years.  Mostly what I get out of the pictures, though, is that our house is a mess.   Who cleans up around here, anyway?

I have a list.  Or two.  Ok, I have three lists, and I anticipate at least one more.  How does one count the number of lists if there are sublists embedded within a list?  There is a list of things to do before we leave.  A list of things to take with us (with sub-categories, many sub-categories, such as which food, which clothes, which meds, which yarn).  A list of people to call or email (many of those have already called or emailed me, which makes that list easy.)

We have an evacuation point and an alternate evacuation point.  Our go-to is usually Partner’s folks, but they’re right in the path of the storm (albeit a few hundred miles inland) with tropical storm winds forecast for them.  So, we may be taking a mini-vacation in beautiful downtown San Angelo.  I’m hoping for a Matthew McConaughey siting.  Or perhaps Los Lonely boys.  Now *that* would be a good birthday present.  

No, seriously, what I really want for my birthday (Which is Sunday.  Thank you, I’ll be 35, though my father is claiming that he is not old enough to have a child of 35), is to wake up Sunday morning and find that our neighbors and friends are safe and that our homes are still livable.  That would be great.  

More later.  

We live on a pretty street.  Lots of trees.  All of them still vertical.  

Comments

[Astraea]

Is the dinosaur tree/bush/plant still there? I couldn't tell whether you all took it out, or whether it was further to the left of the house than I remember.

Sigh.

May all trees stay in place. May all bushes weather the blows. May your yucky fence come down, as hoped for, but not create associated problems with its method of downage.

I like the idea of a Matt McC and Los Lonely Boys birthday bash. Mmmm.