I have hurricane hair. As my mother would say, it looks like I styled it with a leaf blower. I couldn't help noticing that my father was sporting a similar do while he was here Friday and Saturday. He and my two grown nephews arrived Friday morning with my stewardess sister's 3 cats and a dog (belonging to one of the nephews.) My sister was on a plane to Nebraska where she was instructed to stay until the storm passed.
Yes, it's been an eventful three-day weekend. Handsome husband hit the road from California on Wednesday evening and drove home - stopping only in El Paso to buy us a generator and a camping stove. We know we could probably have managed without him, but once in a while we resort to being a house full of wimpy girlies who really want their men around. (Side note: HH is an electrical lineman, and the payscale is MUCH higher in California... so that's where he's working.)
My Dad, at the age of 79, did a better job of predicting hurricane Rita's path and intensity than any of the television newsmen. All the rest of us would have lost money to him if we'd taken his bet!
Even when the new generator from El Paso turned out to be a dud, and HH returned it to the nearest Sears store - then bought a bigger better one at the Home Depot, we were totally prepared for the storm to do its worst by Friday afternoon. Dad and nephews trimmed trees and nailed the old loose wood down on my greenhouse. Brenda and I had already cleared away everything that might blow around outside the house.
Casualties? Apart from a few fire ant bites sustained while shifting potted plants to the greenhouse, the worst injury occurred when my big old black dog bit my nephew's "little" basset hound's ear. So the dogs had to take turns going outside. While one was out the other got to be in the living room. Our other black dog was friends made friends with her cousin and was allowed to go wherever she liked.
So we sat ready. The phone rang non-stop with concerned relatives calling to check on us. We enjoyed some rum and cokes and ate a couple of large meals designed to empty the freezer. In short it's been a family reunion, as well as a valuable test run for the next disaster. Next time, Dad and the boys know how to get around the grid lock on Highway 45... HH knows his girls will have power and a way to cook should the need arise, and I got that pesky limb trimmed off the tree by my bedroom, and we know we can have some more animals come here to stay without too much difficulty.
The hurricane hair didn't seem to bother anyone. It's like a badge that says "I'm prepared."
Now we pray for the safety of those who took the hurricane Rita beating in our place.
Yes, it's been an eventful three-day weekend. Handsome husband hit the road from California on Wednesday evening and drove home - stopping only in El Paso to buy us a generator and a camping stove. We know we could probably have managed without him, but once in a while we resort to being a house full of wimpy girlies who really want their men around. (Side note: HH is an electrical lineman, and the payscale is MUCH higher in California... so that's where he's working.)
My Dad, at the age of 79, did a better job of predicting hurricane Rita's path and intensity than any of the television newsmen. All the rest of us would have lost money to him if we'd taken his bet!
Even when the new generator from El Paso turned out to be a dud, and HH returned it to the nearest Sears store - then bought a bigger better one at the Home Depot, we were totally prepared for the storm to do its worst by Friday afternoon. Dad and nephews trimmed trees and nailed the old loose wood down on my greenhouse. Brenda and I had already cleared away everything that might blow around outside the house.
Casualties? Apart from a few fire ant bites sustained while shifting potted plants to the greenhouse, the worst injury occurred when my big old black dog bit my nephew's "little" basset hound's ear. So the dogs had to take turns going outside. While one was out the other got to be in the living room. Our other black dog was friends made friends with her cousin and was allowed to go wherever she liked.
So we sat ready. The phone rang non-stop with concerned relatives calling to check on us. We enjoyed some rum and cokes and ate a couple of large meals designed to empty the freezer. In short it's been a family reunion, as well as a valuable test run for the next disaster. Next time, Dad and the boys know how to get around the grid lock on Highway 45... HH knows his girls will have power and a way to cook should the need arise, and I got that pesky limb trimmed off the tree by my bedroom, and we know we can have some more animals come here to stay without too much difficulty.
The hurricane hair didn't seem to bother anyone. It's like a badge that says "I'm prepared."
Now we pray for the safety of those who took the hurricane Rita beating in our place.