Today is day 35 of Hurricane Season, only 148 to go!
Predictions are for ‘below-normal’ activity – with an incredible 50% accuracy estimate – and based on the last couple of years, I believe it.
But as our local ‘Beware, The Hurricanes Are Coming’ weather guy reminds, “It only takes one”!
Later helpfully adding, “If you haven’t evacuated yet, you’ll be dead!”
Apparently, climate change the cause for the below normal thing, but somehow also making the ones that show more intense.
Climate Change the cause for virtually everything, even the release of the Covid virus, the adoption of the designated hitter by the National League, and that weird thing growing on Al Gore’s forehead.
Or, it could be El Nino – what the patron saint of Mexico has to do with it, unclear – suppressing fronts or something.
Fortunately, we’ve been relatively immune from hurricanes here; being the furthest point west – same longitude as Pittsburgh – on the Atlantic seaboard is an advantage. The new nearby Buc-ee’s also a plus, as any storm making landfall stops for Beaver Nuggets.
I grew up on tornadoes, and the two storms very different: from storm prep, to the warning period, to storm duration.
Tornadoes arriving with an hour’s notice, hurricanes tracking for a week or so, with the direction indeterminate. Like being stalked by a turtle …
As kids, a notice would appear on our TV during a tornado warning: If you have a deaf neighbor, tell them! We’d run to our deaf neighbor’s house and yell “Hey, you’re deaf!”
And having attended Catholic school during the Cold War, I am uniquely qualified for storm prep. We were trained – conducting daily drills – to be prepared for a Russian nuclear attack.
The defense: Hiding under our desks and saying a Hail Mary or two. After confessing our sins, of course.
Tornado prep: Packing a bag of twinkies, which stay good under any conditions. Adding a map of Kansas, in the event we were blown south, we’d know where we were.
And clean underwear, of course. Your mother would insist.
Hurricane prep kit: A flashlight, blanket and twinkies, which stay good under any conditions.
And a map of South Carolina, in the event we’re blown north.
And that thing about clean underwear…
The best part of prep, the night before the ‘canes arrival, when the town has evacuated; our ‘final’ meal at the Half Shell, driving around the vacant town, and preparing to evade the ‘mandatory’ evacuation.
The mandatory evacuation maybe not so mandatory – but just in case, hiding our car under twigs, turning out the lights, and sleeping under the bed, avoiding detection. And for extra fooling-power, adding a sign “We use well water. No twinkies inside”.
The unfortunate down-side of a hurricane, the five-day power outage.
Which is an opportunity to rediscover family fun: Sweating as a group, preserving food in rock salt and recreating Little House on the Prairie activities. We’ve now planted 5 acres of wheat!
But even the outage no longer a terrible thing. While we’ve donated our portable generator to charity in an abundance of caution – fearing I’d be The Redneck Who Blowed Theyself Up – enough ‘friends’ with whole house generators allowing us to charge our phones and stop sweating for a few.
Even tossing in the occasional lunch or dinner; learning: Once I’m fed, it’s tough to get me to leave…
But our ‘No Evacuation, Never Again’ policy may get tested if we hear the local Waffle House is closing.
If that happens, we’ll just head to Buc-ee’s and let that giant Beaver guide us to safety…
ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR WITH THE FOLLOWING ‘AGING HIPSTER MUSIC/READING’:
I’m digging Kevin Morby’s new album. He, the husband of Katie Crutchfield, of Waxahachie. Fun facts: They live in Overland Park, KS, have been together since ’17, and are expecting their first child this summer!
And Love Is Not Enough still available on Amazon. What a great read for anyone who has dealt with mental health or addiction issues. Or just wants to read about family love and recovery.