Sunday, September 10, 2017

     When Mr. Wonderful’s snoring awakens me at 4:4 6 a.m., I usually drag myself out of bed, pour my coffee and begin to plan my day. Not today. The approaching storm has me flummoxed (that’s fancy for scared out of my mind). The winds are just beginning to pick up, but the first forecast has them heading here tonight at over 100 mph. 170,000 people in Florida without power, and I was thinking we would have a nice salmon dinner cooked in the oven. Yeah, right. 

     I go from giddy to terrified based on how much attention I allow myself to give to fear. Yesterday was preparation and keeping busy. Today, we’ve done all we can. Now we sit and wait to have our lives threatened. Could we have left? Yes, but where would we have gone? It takes 7 hours to get out of Florida, and that’s at 70 mph. People who left told us there was no gas, no food, lines at bathrooms were down the highway, and there were accidents every 15 minutes. Did we want to risk that not knowing whether the destination would be any better? We know no one within 20 hours of here, so we stayed. 

     We will sweat, shake, cry, scream it out, and life will go on. We may lose everything or nothing. We may get hurt or not. We will be together for better and worse, but we will be together. To our daughters, “We will persevere, and we love you all so much!” It’s in God’s hands now.


Yesterday’s levity:

When storms approach, I stop and stare
“what is all that wind out there?”
Cat 5 on its way to me
What to do, oh, golly gee.

 Shutters up, the fridge is stocked
if we survive, I’ll be so shocked
of course, my hair looks fab today
because I’m locked inside to stay.

Spaghetti wafting in the dark
soon I’ll call you from the ark
tiny house will stand its ground
while the palm trees roar and pound

If we’re stuck inside this cave
for two days, I’ll be so brave
after that, I’ll go berserk
while mold and insects start to lurk

They said I’d love it here, yeah right
right about now, I’d take a flight
to any place that’s dry and cool
(The potted plants are in the pool!)

My other half is hangin’ in
He’ll be fine with chips and gin
I cannot indulge, I fear
I can’t drink vodka, wine or beer.

Monday morning will tell all
We’ll be dead or standing tall
Hopefully the latter, folks
This Irma chick is no small joke.

Thank you for your texts and mail
They mean so much as winds do wail
Flying tiles and frogs a-croakin’
Let’s just pray that nothing’s broken.

If I should die before I wake
Someone eat my pumpkin cake.
I hate wasting it.