So, we dodged a bullet. Again.
Our house is fine. No flood. No wind damage. The pool is said to be filled with trees. That's no surprise. And we'll be without power for a week. Or more. So they say. Our phone line also was knocked out.
So we sit here in Natchitoches, debating whether we want to stay here and enjoy little luxuries like cable TV and air conditioning and a cold refrigerator, or go home to sweltering heat, a smelly refrigerator, no grocery stores or gas. And no Internet. For a week or more.
Hmmmm. Tough one.
We've become slugs here. We spent all day Monday in our pajamas, flipping channels, looking for news. Lora Leigh spent the day on her sister's computer, happily chatting away with her friends on Miley World. Today we got dressed and ventured out for a while in the rain. I was surprised to see all the tree limbs on the ground. I never heard a thing.
Jim Cantore picked the right spot, apparently. He did his live remotes from just outside St. Francis de Sales Church in Houma, the big one in town, and excitedly reported as the roof peeled away throughout the day. That's where my grandparents' funerals were. And my Baccalaureate Mass.
He could have gone to Lena's house. Her shed is gone. Clayton's truck bed cover flew away too.
Kevin, Samantha and baby Job rode it out at Lou's house in Lisa Park. They are reported to be fine. Lou lost some fence.
Baton Rouge got hammered too. I talked to my sister, Jo Lee. She said it was bad. "Real bad." I think I detected some fear in her voice. Over on the other side of town, my mom, my sister-in-law, two nieces, a niece-in-law, a nephew-in-law and two grand-nieces have a hole in the roof and stories to tell.
I think we chose the right place to ride out Gustav. We didn't get rain until late Monday. Lost power for about 20 minutes last night -- not even long enough for the beer to get hot. We did have a little trouble finding food today as the entire town of Natchitoches lost power for a couple of hours. It's back now. We went to Chili's tonight. They were serving a limited menu. It wasn't very good.
And we weren't the only refugees there. In fact, there was a little family there with a baby boy. According to his mom's personalized diaper bag, his name was Gustavo...
This is hard, you know. This evacuation thing. It's hard enough leaving everything you own to the mercy of Mother Nature. It's just as hard knowing when to goback. The parish will allow folks to go home tomorrow, knowing not everyone has a kid in college somewhere. Lots of people are doling out lots of money for hotel rooms and meals. We have lots of canned soup and Little Debbies.
But, we also have cable TV. And we see Hanna on the horizon. And Ike coming up behind. And Josephine forming off the coast of Africa......
Save our spots, Courtney. We might need them.. Maybe we'll just leave our suitcases here. We'll move out when you move out.