Hurricane Gustav is still in the Caribbean—over 800 miles from here. However, the hurricane gurus are predicting landfall just to the west of us, which puts us on the high-water side.
Now is the time that I can no longer turn my face and hope it will all go away. This is a force to be reckoned with. Now is the time I have to save all that I can save.
And inside, I am still clinging to the calm before the storm, my life ring of sanity that will give me clarity, hopefully.
We live in a mandatory evacuation zone. Evacuations are not new to us, and most of them are just exercises in leaving home and returning in a day or two after the storm has passed and power is restored, if it was interrupted.
But this is not an exercise. This is the real thing. Honestly, my body doesn’t want to go through the motions while my mind wants to wait patiently, stifling the impending anxiety another day, for this storm to take a big turn to Somewhere Else.
I’ve decided as long as this computer is hooked up (I don’t have a laptop yet) I will let you know step by step what I’m doing. I’ve had my coffee, and now I am going to pack a few boxes of inconsequential things that I would miss if they were gone and drive them 55 minutes north to a storage unit I rented the week before Rita flooded our home. That is where all my sentimental things have been for the past three years. And that is where these things are going. Does it make sense? Maybe not, but I have to do it.
If you are praying for peace, keep on, because I can feel it. If you are praying for strength, step it up please–I need a little more courage.
And here I go . . . . .
PHASE 2 1 p.m. We are back home and lifting up all the things we can to a higher spot in the house. The rest of our valuables will be loaded in to the vehicles in preparation to depart. This includes my computer, so this will be the last you will hear from me until I reach the Lake House. I have a few photos to share with you on Sunday, and I promise if we get there by then, it will be done. Thanks for hanging with me. Some of you in the Baton Rouge area are going to be my eyes via this blog as what is going on in Houma. Where I’m going will not get BR or NO news, only national, which does not usually cover the bayou area. I am having a hard time signing off and letting go of this connection, but I must. Until then, pray pray pray.
Here are the photos I promised. This is what preparing for evacuation and flooding look like:
In every room, we put things up as high as possible. These photos are not suitable for “Home Beautiful”! But they help you “get the picture”.
Not a pretty picture, is it?
You might notice in the photos that the floors are bare plywood with a couple rugs thrown down. That’s because we never completely repaired after Hurricane Rita. It’s complicated. The parish requires a permit for every little repair you do and when the value of those repairs adds up to half of your home’s value, then you must come up with the $$$ to elevate to the required elevation to avoid future flooding. In theory, it’s a great idea, but who has $30K hanging around? If we had that much hanging around, we would have had complete flood insurance coverage and would have already elevated the required 10-12 feet.