My "Katrina" Diary
Sep. 18th, 2005 08:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dreamflowerMy apologies! I forgot the cut!
MY KATRINA DIARY
SUNDAY, slightly past midnight:
I go lay on top of the bed with the dogs. They don’t understand this change in routine, but jump up to lie down with me. We all three doze off, but a few hours later, as the wind picks up, Sugar tries to get so close to me that she shoves me off the pillow. Sissy jumps up and down, prowling the room and whining. I listen to the racket the wind is making. I can hear our neighbor’s metal shed coming apart. I wonder if part of it is going to whip through and break a window. I think about getting up and getting back online, but the dogs are too restless.
MONDAY, AUG. 29, 5 AM:
I get up, let the dogs out briefly, and then put the gate at the end of the hall, so they are confined to our bedroom and the computer room. I try to log on just one more time to LJ, but the power goes off just as I begin. So much for that.
I go check on Anna; she’s still sleeping. I locate the batteries for the radio, and try to call Jim--but the landline is down, so I get out the cell-phone. He’s not in his office, so he’s probably busy on the floor with patients. I try to find a radio station.
Anna wanders down to sit with me, and in between fiddling with the radio, I go to look out the different windows. The wind is howling and the water has begun to come into the sewing room, as expected. I look out the kitchen window and watch the trees sway. I realize any of them could come down at any time. About 8 AM a huge groaning noise makes me look out the window in the front door. I’m stunned. The *sycamore* is down. That thing is huge, and has roots clear to China. I never expected *that* one to go down! Within less than an hour, it is followed by the largest of our ash trees and the largest of our popcorn trees--and most heartbreaking of all, our holly tree. By a miracle every single one of them falls *away* from the house. But I’m worried about the trees in the backyard. If they come down in the same direction, it will be toward the house. I’m watching pieces of the front porch roof peel away and go flying, as well as pieces of the greenhouse. The greenhouse door shatters, and flies off.
The carport is swaying, but it’s blocked from flying away. It’s wedged in by the fallen sycamore tree. The arbor over the front gate is gone.
The sewing room is flooded, of course, although not as badly as I feared. But the bathroom where the dogs normally stay is flooding as well as the laundry room. The flooding would probably be worse with this amount of rain, but it’s coming in horizontally, and blowing too hard to flood the street.
About 10, Jim calls on the cell-phone to check on us. He can’t talk but a minute, but I reassure him we are OK so far.
As the storm continues to roar, Anna and I hunker down in the living room with the radio. All I can get is news out of New Orleans; none of the local stations are still on the air. It’s unimaginable, listening to all the people calling desperately for help, stranded on roofs or in attics. I feel sick to my stomach.
I try to call Jim one more time. The cell service is down.
Around 1 PM, Anna and I eat some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. According to what we can glean intermittently on the radio, Katrina is just about half over. It’s already lasted twice as long as previous hurricanes in my experience.
We go back in the living room, and I fiddle with the radio. We get some news from Mobile briefly, but then it is gone, and we are left listening to N.O. again.
I must have dozed off sitting there, for the next thing I know, I hear some voices outside. The rain has stopped, the wind has died down except for a few gusts. I look out and see a few people walking in the street. It’s after 7 PM.
I venture out into the front yard. It’s an obstacle course. Miraculously, my car is unscratched. But it’s of no use, because it’s trapped inside the carport, blocked in by the sycamore tree in the driveway. The carport itself is bent and buckled, but still standing. One side of the carport gate is shut. The other side is wedged open by the tree. The front gate is gaping open, and no longer meets in the middle. Although the fence is badly damaged, the trees are blocking the areas where it is broken. I use a bungee cord to tie the small gate shut, and cautiously let the dogs out. They are confused, and they both turn and give me a dirty look, as if to say “What did you do to our yard?” (like it’s *my* fault). They do their business quickly and come right back inside.
Anna and I have tuna sandwiches for supper. She goes to lay down. I go sit in the car, to turn on its radio and see if I can find any news, and to have a bit of A/C for a few minutes. I’m in luck: WLOX, our local ABC-TV station and all the local radio stations have banded together to use equipment and share coverage of the storm.
The news is appalling. Everything along Highway 90 seems to be destroyed. Bay St. Louis and Waveland are underwater. After sitting there and listening for a while, I go back in, and lay down on top of the bed.
I am desperately worried about my husband and my sister-in-law. And I know my son, my sister, my brother and my mother are all going to be frantic about us. And of course![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
marigoldg is going to be equally frantic about her mom. And I’m worried about coneygoil. And all my friends in my barony, and at Michael’s. No way to know how anyone has fared.
I doze fitfully off and on. But mostly I lie awake in the dark. It’s really, really dark.
TUESDAY, AUG. 30, 4 AM:
My left knee is killing me. I’m hot and sweaty; I know I won’t sleep any more right now. I get up, feed the dogs and let them out. I put the gate across the hallway, so that they won’t surprise Anna, who is still asleep. They go and lie on the couch, while I sit in my chair with the radio. I finish off the last of the buttermilk, and I am finally able to pick up MPB (Mississippi Public Broadcasting) I listen to that for a while. It’s so much worse than I ever thought it could be. 80% of the state is without power. Then I finally get some local news. It’s scary. Too scary.
I can’t help but think some more of all the people who are going to be frantic: my family, Anna’s family, everyone on my flist. No way to let anyone know we’re OK.
And I worry some more about my husband--how did the hospital make it during the storm? And my sister-in-law, M.A.--from all I have heard, Bay St. Louis is gone.
About 9, I hear Anna stirring. I put the dogs up, and she comes and we both sit in the living room and listen to the radio for a couple more hours; but then it starts to repeat the same thing, so I switch it off for a while to save the batteries.
I go out and walk around in the neighborhood for a little while, shocked at the damage, yet also relieved that it’s not worse. It could have been much worse.
I talk to my next-door-neighbor, J. and his aunt and uncle, who are staying with him. Then I come back to the house, and try to occupy myself. I fiddle with this and that, but can’t really settle to anything. Suddenly, I hear Jim’s voice. I hurry out, to see him at the gate. He comes in, but he can’t stay. They only allowed him to leave long enough to check on us, and on M.A. Then he has to return to the hospital. He doesn’t know how soon they will allow him to leave again.
He tells me of what happened there. It sounds unreal, like a disaster movie. At one point, he nearly got sucked out of a fifth floor window when he was trying to secure a patient’s room.
He could have been killed. It takes a while for that to sink in.
All too quickly, he has to leave.
I cook some hamburgers on the gas grill for lunch. We are only going to have a day or two to use up the meat in the freezer.
I hear about ice being sold out of a truck on Dedeaux Road. I ask J. if he would mind taking me up there to get some, and he kindly obliges. The line is incredibly long; we’re lucky. They are down to 30 bags by the time it is our turn. We buy 6 bags each.
I make pork chops and baked potatoes on the grill for supper.
I come out and sit in the car for a while and write in this journal. Then go in to try and rest. I doze in my chair off and on until midnight, and then go lay on the bed, and toss and turn there. It’s so hot.
WEDNESDAY, AUG. 31, 5 AM:
I get up and take care of the dogs, then listen to the radio and doze off in my chair.
About 8, I get up and decide to make breakfast. I use the grill, and cook all the remaining bacon and the last two eggs; after Anna and I eat, I boil some drinking water to clean the dishes. I save the rinse water to pour in the toilet for flushing. Anna helps me change the ice in the coolers. I save the melted ice for cleaning with.
Around 10, I hear M.A.’s voice. She’s out there with a friend, and I ask them to come in.
At least she’s alive.
She now possesses the clothes on her back and her cat.
Her house and everything in it is completely gone. Her car is gone. Her car was insured, but her possessions were not; she was a renter, and did not have renter’s insurance.
She won’t stay right now. She’s staying with the friend who brought her over. I remind her that she’s more than welcome to come back and stay with us again. I can tell that she’s in shock, even though she’s trying to put a good face on it. She has nothing.
She decides to go over to the hospital to let Jim know she’s OK. Apparently he never found her Tues.; I know he’s got to be worried sick over her.
I’m really depressed now.
AFTERNOON:
The water is now running, but we have a “boil water notice” for now, and of course it’s only cold. At least I have a grill to boil it on.
I invite J. to come over for dinner this evening. I’m going to cook everything I feasibly can before it goes bad. Everything else in the freezer will have to go out. Some other friends of ours, D. and her husband, L., stop by to check on us. They are staying down the street with her mother. Their own house, south of I-10, had flooded. They had to break into their neighbor’s house next door and go up to his second floor to escape the water. Hearing this makes me frantic about four of my friends who I know live very near them. Their house has no second floor, and I wonder if they stayed or went. I invite D. and L. to come back this evening for supper.
I try to clean the house up just a little bit.
Damn.
I’m spotting.
I haven’t had a period in four years. There’s not a pad in the house. Embarrassed, I go over to one of my other neighbors, across the street to borrow some. Sheesh. As if the hurricane wasn’t bad enough. I guess it’s the stress.
I cook. A lot of chicken. Some pork chops. Some steak. Spaghetti casserole, broccoli--all on the grill.
HURRICANE DESSERT:
½ a frozen cake, thawed, broken into small pieces; reserve ½ cup of crumbs
3 packages of thawed frozen fruit: I used strawberries, blackberries and peaches
1 cup sugar
1 cup flaked coconut
½ cup brown sugar
Mix the thawed fruit and sugar with the broken cake pieces and put into two disposable aluminum loaf pans. Mix the reserved crumbs with the coconut and the brown sugar, and sprinkle on top. Let sit until ready to serve.
The five of us eat. D. and L. say it’s the first cooked meal they’ve had since Saturday. After those two leave, laden with leftovers, as I’ve no room for all the leftovers in the coolers, Anna, J. and I talk on the front porch for an hour or so, until the mosquitoes drive us in. I ask J. to come back over for supper again tomorrow.
9 PM:
I’m just finishing taking a cold shower, when I hear Jim’s voice. I quickly throw on a robe and go down front. Good news--he’s home. Bad news--he has to go back first thing in the morning.
THURSDAY, SEPT. 1, 6:30 AM
In spite of the heat, it’s the best night’s sleep I’ve had since Saturday.
Jim’s got to get back to the hospital. He won’t be back before Friday night or Saturday morning.
The house stinks.
It’s time to clean.
3:15 PM
I’ve scrubbed the floors in the sewing room, cleaned out the fridge and freezer--threw out a *lot* of food. Hauled out five bags of garbage, including most of the dogs’ blankets--they got wet with the nasty flood water.
Anna and I cleaned up the coolers again. We badly need more ice. I put our last four bags in the coolers and the freezer and fridge are completely empty. The freezer stinks, but it’s too dark in the laundry room to clean it out properly.
We are also running low on bottled water.
Anna is such a trooper--she’s game for anything; and never complains. I hope I’m that tough when I’m her age. I doubt it, though. I’m not that tough now.
4:30 PM
J. came over with four bags of ice! I could have hugged him!
Our backyard neighbor came over with a case of water. J. and two other young men came over and moved some of the sycamore tree, and helped me make a barricade at the driveway gate so the dogs can’t get out. We used pieces of metal from our other neighbor’s shed. It was blown to smithereens during the storm, but the corrugated metal panels are useful.
I invite J. over for supper again, and we have steak and baked potatoes. It’s the last of the meat from the freezer. Everything else was too thawed to be safe.
After supper, I listen to the radio for a while. It sounds like the worst is over for us, and things seem to be improving.
FRIDAY, SEPT. 2, 4 AM:
I wake up hurting--knees, back and sinuses. I take three Tylenol and go sit in my chair and try to doze. About 5, I give up. I’m not hurting anymore, but I *itch*. I go to take a cold shower and *wash*my*hair*! Oh bliss!
It’s very quiet and somewhat cooler this morning. For the first time since the storm, I feel like working on some fic.
5 PM
It’s been a very quiet day. My Challenge 20 story is nearly done; it’s way longer than I thought it would be, and is going to take a while to type in when the power finally comes on. I can’t believe it’s a Challenge Friday and I don’t have a story in, nor any way to read any. Silly thing to worry about with so many terrible things going on, huh? But I can’t help it, I do. I cut out a purse, and I’m going to try to sew it by hand. I have some upholstery thread, so that’s a bit stronger than regular.
7 PM
Jim’s home. I thought he wasn’t going to make it tonight, as it’s after the 6 PM curfew, but he’s a nurse with a hospital ID, so he’s free to come and go. He’s got to be back at the hospital by noon tomorrow. He tells me my niece, D., reached him at the hospital, so now at least my sister and brother will know I’m safe. But the hospital phone is somewhat sporadic.
Our cell service comes up tonight, oh joy! But it’s still not reliable, and we can’t get any long distance calls out.
Tomorrow morning we are going to see if we can find out a way to let people know we are alive. I just know everyone has to be frantic!!
SATURDAY, SEPT. 3, 6:30 AM:
We get up and moving early. We have only until noon to get as much done as we can. We eat some bread and cheese and head out. First we go to the nursing home, but they won’t let us in to see Momma. She’s fine, they say, but they are not allowing visitors because of infection control. We had heard Winn-Dixie was open, but the line outside is very long. “Why don’t we try the Wal-mart in Wiggins?” asks Jim. I hesitated. It would take nearly a quarter of a tank of gas, and Jim has to get back to the hospital. But we decide to take the chance.
I’m glad we did. We found everything we needed but bread and ice. And on the way back, we spot the National Guard passing out ice in Saucier. We pick up four 10# bags. On the way home I see one of the churches giving away clothes in the parking lot. I think of Anna and M.A.
But no time now.
We barely have time to unload the car before Jim has to leave to go back to work. It’s his birthday.
Anna and I clean out the coolers and have lunch. Since the car is now unblocked, I take her up to that church. A friend of mine, K., is the pastor’s wife. While Anna looks for a few things for herself, K. helps me to find a few things M.A. might be able to use.
Then we stop at one of the schools that is being used as a shelter. It has occurred to me that the Red Cross could help notify my son and Marigold and her brother. Jim told me the hospital is getting sporadic internet, so I also give him some email addresses to try. Our cell phone is working a little bit locally, but we still can’t call long distance.
An afternoon as quiet as it can be, with chain saws, generators and helicopters everywhere. I do a bit of hand sewing on my purse, and a little reading, and doze off.
The house stinks again.
SUNDAY, SEPT. 4, 2 AM
I wake up in my chair, put the dogs up, and go lay down on the bed. I have some wild dreams, and keep waking up. I finally realize what’s keeping me awake--my backyard neighbors have gotten a generator--noisy? You would not believe!
But I also have some plot bunnies.
About 5:30, I give up on laying there, get up, let the dogs out. It’s pleasantly cool this time of morning, so I go outside to sit for awhile, and listen to PRN on the radio.
About 8, I go ask Anna if she wants some breakfast--cereal, since I got powdered milk yesterday--but it turns out she likes to eat hers dry.
Then I start doing laundry. By hand. In cold water. I really can’t do all of it--only the necessities: some underwear, Jim’s scrubs. Still, it’s nearly noon by the time I finish. My fingers look like prunes, and we have clothesline strung all over the front porch.
12 NOON:
There’s a young man at the front gate, who wants to know if he can help me. Turns out there are three of them, Marines, based at Eglin AFB in FL. They have come over on their own to help out. They have a chain saw, and offer to help clear the yard of the most dangerous debris. They’re on leave, just back from Iraq, and this is how they choose to spend their down time! I am *so* grateful--this will be that much less for Jim to worry about when he gets home. I wish I could offer them cookies or tea or *something*! They are just *angels*! They clear out a lot of the debris--and then, glory be! they try to save our holly tree! They pull it upright with their truck, and secure it with ropes. Maybe it will live! I hope so. That was the first tree we planted on this bare lot when we moved in almost 29 years ago.
3 PM:
Marigold calls! I can’t believe she got through! I almost couldn’t find the phone. It’s so good to hear her voice! I reassure her as to our safety, and then she talks to her mom. Just knowing that she knows and will notify my flist makes me feel like I’m part of the human race again!
4 PM:
We drive down to Crossroads Mall on Highway 49, where FEMA has the National Guard distributing water and ice; we didn’t ask for it, but they also put a box of food in the back: there’s a loaf of bread in it and a bag of bagels! We have bread!
Our across-the-street neighbors have gotten a generator, so I asked them to plug in my cell phone on the charger tonight, so I won’t have to worry about missing a call tomorrow.
11:30 PM
I’m sleeping in my chair when I’m awakened by the sound of rain. At first I don’t think much of it--and then I remember my laundry--the porch roof is mostly gone! I dash out to bring it in. Most of it is OK, and I take it to hang up on the shower rod in the guest bathroom. But the socks will just have to hang there.
MONDAY, SEPT. 5, 6:30 AM:
I wake up to a pleasantly cool morning. I get some breakfast and sit out on the front porch and sew, and listen to the radio, while I wait for my neighbors to get up so I can retrieve the phone. It’s very lucky that I did for about 9, Anna’s son calls, very glad to be able to speak to her.
Jim gets home about 10. We head out on a quest: to see our insurance agent, get gas, and ice.
We get home about 2 PM, mission accomplished. We have some lunch. Jim’s exhausted--he’s only had about a hour’s sleep in the past 24; he dozes off in his chair. I go sit on the porch and work on my purse until it’s time to go make supper.
TUESDAY, SEPT. 6, 5:45 AM:
Apparently, I fell asleep in my chair last night. At some point, Jim must have taken my shoes and glasses off, and turned off the radio and flashlight.
I wake him up, take a cold shower and dress, and get him off to work. He won’t be home for another 24 hours at least.
9 AM
Anna and I head for the bank, and to get some gas and some ice. We stand in line 45 minutes at the bank to just get inside, but we are only in line at the gas station for about a half-hour. While we wait for gas, a young man comes along the line of cars, offering sandwiches. He and some friends just came down to see what they could do to help out. They are not with any organization or group. After the fill-up (limit $40 worth--but we didn’t need quite that much) we head down to the distribution point at Crossroads Mall for ice. We are only in line for an hour and a half today--a half hour less than yesterday. It took almost a quarter of a tank of the gas we just got!
On the way home, I decide to swing by to see how my SCA friends, our baron and baroness and Mistress D. and Sir L., who all share a household, have fared. Their street is south of I-10, and dead ends just off a bayou, and I’ve been horribly worried about them. As well I should have been. I find them all in the front yard sifting through the rubble, trying to find what can be salvaged. Their house completely flooded. They had ridden the storm out there because of the pets, and ended up in the attic: an Irish wolfhound, a Samoyed, a Pomeranian, two cats, and four adults. The baroness laughs and tells me I should have seen them trying to get the Irish wolfhound into the attic: “Irish wolfhounds can swim, but they can’t climb worth a damn,” she jokes. But I can see that it's really no joking matter: they spent hours in the attic waiting for the water to go down. It came up to within a foot of their ceiling. I want to cry when I see their home; I’m sure it’s ruined, though they have hopes that some of their possessions can be salvaged if they can dry them out soon enough. But I’m so grateful to know they are safe. They are staying with Mistress D.’s mother, and are also able to reassure me about the well-being of several other members of our barony, including our founding baron and baroness and my friend Lady E., who lived in Pass Christian just a block up from the harbor. They lived in areas that were very hard hit, and have probably lost their homes as well, but at least they are safe.
We get home and I do some more laundry (if I never have to wash laundry by hand again it will be too soon) and spend a quiet afternoon sewing, talking to Anna, and listening to PRN.
WEDNESDAY, SEPT. 7, 5 AM
I’ve been awake off and on for a couple of hours, so I finally get up, have a little bit of breakfast (donated pop-tarts) and try to straighten up the house a little bit. I am determined not to wait until the power comes back on, or I will have more mess than I know how to deal with. I clean up the Hot Spots in the dining room and do a 15 minute Room Rescue in the living room. I take my craft table out of the living room and put it back in the sewing room now that the flooded water has dried up. Since I can’t vacuum the carpet with no power, I take the yard rake to it.
Then I spray the whole house liberally with air freshener, and spray carpet freshener on the carpet.
Then I go sit on the porch and work on my purse.
10 AM--
Jim’s not home yet. I’m getting a bit worried. After a few tries, I finally get through to the hospital on the cell phone. He’s tied up, and probably won’t get back home until 3 or 4 in the afternoon. So Anna and I go on an ice run. While we are in line for ice, some volunteers give us grilled hamburgers and a soda, so we have lunch in the car. Then we head home, and clean out the coolers.
4 PM--
Jim’s finally home. He’s exhausted, and he has to be back at 8 AM tomorrow morning. And he won’t be able to come home again until Friday evening or Saturday morning.
THURSDAY, SEPT. 8, 6:30 AM:
I get up, get Jim off to the hospital. Work on my purse some more.
Quiet day. Went to the bank again, and made an ice run.
Nina (Coneygoil) called tonight. I’m *so* relieved to know that she and her family are OK. One more fear I can put to rest.
I couldn’t sleep. Too hot. House too stinky. I woke up about 1 AM, thinking that it was about 5. I tried to read a little bit by flashlight. Not too good. *MAN* do I miss the computer and LJ--that’s what I usually do in the middle of the night and can’t sleep! Having no power and no internet really sucks when you’ve got insomnia. But I try to keep reminding myself of how many people have it so much worse--I really can’t complain compared to people who’ve lost *everything*! But thinking about that keeps me further from sleep than ever…
Just sitting around in the dark with nothing to do is depressing. I try to work on fic in my head, but I can’t concentrate.
FRIDAY, SEPT. 9, 6:05 AM
Sometime after about 4, I must have finally dropped off to sleep for a while. I go take a cold shower and change clothes.
I sit on the porch and listen to PRN, and finish my purse. I’m pretty pleased with how it came out. It’s a shoulder sling (McCalls 2933), made of old blue jeans. On the front flap, which I altered slightly, I used a blue Sharpie to calligraph “Above all shadows rides the Sun and Stars forever dwell; I will not say the day is done, nor bid the Stars farewell…” from LotR, and then beneath that I wrote “All storms shall pass.” I beaded it with random spirals and starbursts. On the front of the purse itself, I beaded some Celtic knotwork, and on the strap, I stamped a tree, symbolic of all the trees we lost, and put a little more beading. On the back I put a unicorn patch that I’d been saving up for something. I put a D-ring on the front flap, and used a lanyard hook to attach a purchased beaded tassel I happened to have on hand. Then on the back, I put my name and the date with the blue Sharpie. Considering I sewed it by hand, it didn’t come out half-bad.
Anna’s son called.
FEMA did not come, even though Jim had put in a claim for Anna and for us, calling from the hospital, and had been told they would come on Friday.
Domino’s is open. I went and picked up a cheese pizza for supper. (They weren’t taking orders. All they had were cheese or pepperoni.)
Listened to the radio for a while, and slept in my chair.
SATURDAY, SEPT. 10, 5:30 PM
I wake up, let the dogs out and feed and water them. I do a 15 minute Room Rescue in the living and dining rooms, and try to organize all the canned and dried foodstuffs in the kitchen. Then I get something to eat and go sit on the front porch, listening to PRN and working on fic.
About a quarter to 9, the crew Jim hired comes to start taking out our poor broken trees. They take 8 from the back yard, and 6 from the front. When they are done, there are only 4 left standing: the cypress in the back yard, and in the front yard, the small ash, the smallest popcorn tree, and the holly that my Marine angels rescued, *if* it lives.
About 9:30, Jim gets home. He’s exhausted.
Around 11, the tree guys say they are finished. But they didn’t take care of the huge roots from the sycamore or the ash--so they don’t charge us the full amount. I’m not sure who we can get to deal with those roots and stumps, or how much more it will cost. Then the guy who’s going to fix the roof, porches and fence comes by for his deposit. Then we go out for gas, ice and to find an open grocery store. We also find a Sonic that is open, and gleefully stop for cheeseburgers for lunch!
When we get home, I find a note on the front door: my niece and her new husband came by to check on us. I wish I could get in touch with her--we must have *just* missed them. But I can’t find her cell phone number.
We drive out to the nursing home to check on Momma. They let me see her this time, and we visit for a while.
Then we get home--
If the power is on, can cable be far behind? *Crosses fingers*
Tonight I will take a *WARM* shower! Woo-hoo!!!!
SUNDAY, SEPT. 11, 6 AM:
Today is our 29th wedding anniversary. We were supposed to be in Colorado. Oh well. “Life is what happens when you are making other plans.” So much for our romantic getaway. *sigh*
I get Jim off to work; he’ll be home again tomorrow afternoon, hopefully. He is hoping that after this they can get back to a regular schedule. I do some laundry in the *washing machine* (I so *love* my washing machine. I never appreciated it so much before.) and spend the day typing this journal into the computer, as well as some of the fic I had worked on.
No need to make an ice run. I turn on the fridge, and when it gets cold enough, I start putting the food in it from the coolers. For supper I make hash out of some potatoes, and some leftover steak. I have to remember, though to turn off the ice maker and not use the water dispenser. Our water is still contaminated, and we are still under a boil water alert. I will use bottled drinking water to cook with for the foreseeable future. I can use tap water for cleaning, though. Just to be double sure, I boil it *and* add bleach!
Cable’s still out. Bummer. No internet yet.
Can’t sleep. I teach myself Spider Solitaire.
MONDAY, SEPT. 12, 5 AM
I get up, let the dogs out, take a *warm* shower. (I will never take warm showers for granted again!) I do some straightening up, and finish the rest of the laundry.
I type some more of what I had written during the storm, and then after lunch, Anna and I go to the Winn-Dixie; she has a few things she wants to get, and I pick up some things for supper.
When we get home, I get ready to start cooking and *the power goes out again*! This is really upsetting, as we have no ice now. Fortunately it’s only off for about an hour.
For supper, I make oven-fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, peas, sliced tomato, and for dessert, a *real* scratch banana pudding, with meringue on top.
We go to bed at a decent hour.
But I’m still not sleeping well. And I have a bit of tummy upset.
TUESDAY, SEPT. 13, 5 AM
I get up and get Jim off to work. I’m going to try and get back to some semblance of normality today.
I wish the cable would come back. I miss my internet. I miss my LJ. I really miss my flist.
I clean, change the bed, work on folding all that laundry, and straighten things up a bit. After lunch we go to Winn-Dixie again. I pick up some ground beef. I’m only buying a few things at a time, as we have yet to clean out the stinky freezer. (I had taken out and thrown away everything, but it was too dark, even with a flashlight, to scrub it out like I did the fridge.) Jim promised to help me with that this weekend. I’m going to make meat loaf and macaroni and cheese for supper tonight.
I have a little time before I have to start cooking, so I come in here to type up some more stuff.
Jim’s home and we have supper. Then one of his friends from New Jersey calls to check on him, so I come back here, and call my sister on the cell phone, and work on this journal.
The following is rated TMI, for bodily functions. Feel free to skip the next paragraph, as I am only including it for my own future reference.
I seem to have more than a touch of diarrhea today. I’m a bit worried. I have tried to be meticulous about not drinking or cooking with anything but bottled water. And no one else seems to be suffering from it, so I hope maybe it’s just the relief from the stress. If it doesn’t ease off, I’ll take a Lomotil before bedtime. But I can’t help but worry a bit, after all the warnings about dysentery.
OK, safe to read more now.
10 PM
Earlier this evening, I had tried and failed, to callgrey_wonderer. So I was quite pleased to get a call from her this evening. We yakked and yakked and yakked and yakked. It was wonderful to hear her voice. I’ve just missed LJ *so much*! And I was just starved for someone to talk hobbits and fic to. We talked until after midnight, and she promised to give everyone my hugs, and tell my flist how much I missed them!
WEDNESDAY, SEPT. 14, 4:30 PM
It’s been a quiet day, almost normal. I polished up my Challenge 20 story, so as soon as the cable comes back I can send it. Did some laundry, cleaned house.
We got some wonderful news: On Saturday, residents of Anna’s apartment building will be allowed to be escorted to their apartment to see if there is anything they can salvage. And the mail came. Anna got a check from FEMA. So things are definitely looking up.
My brother called. He’s been horribly worried, but now he is reassured that we are all OK. He’s hoping to make time to get over here soon, but is not sure if he’s going to be able to.
My tummy’s feeling better today.
Tonight I print out the pictures I took of the damage. It looks even worse than I remembered.
THURSDAY, SEPT. 15, 9:40
Today and tomorrow, Jim finally has some days off. He’ll also be off Saturday and Sunday, giving him a long weekend.
We spend the morning making various phone calls to try and find out information we need to know to deal with our storm damage. Jim also makes some calls to find out some things for Anna and M.A.
After lunch, we go run some errands, for once not having to go get ice. We take care of a couple of things locally, and then head up to Wiggins to go to the Wal-mart there. Afterwards, we find a catfish house open and have supper, before heading down to the nursing home to see my mother for a few minutes.
Our boil-water notice has been lifted. I dump the first bin of ice from the icemaker, and several cups of water from the filter in the fridge, to make sure any possible contaminated water is out of the lines.
We’ve seen the CableOne trucks busy in the area. Word is we will have cable back by the 23rd. Another week without internet…
FRIDAY, SEPT. 16, 11:30
I woke up at 5 AM, having very creepy dreams. I came in here and worked on some fic. I have very nearly finished “Chance Encounter” now.
I made a big breakfast this morning: sweet potato pancakes and bacon. Our plans today included going to the bank and then going to Lowe’s to pick up some yard tools this morning. But our plans just changed when we got a call from the man we had called about removing the huge rootballs in our yard. He’s able to come out at once. So Jim will run to the bank himself, to get the money to pay him, while he works on our yard.
He shows up only a few minutes after calling, with a Bobcat on a trailer. His big machine makes short work of all those huge roots. Jim barely has time to get back from the bank before he’s finished. I got some cool pictures. But my chip is almost full. I’m going to have to see about getting the pics downloaded so I can delete some of them.
Our yard really looks bare now. We’re off to Lowe’s.
3:45
Took forever to get home; a lot of the traffic lights are still not working, turning major intersections into giant four-way stops.
I worked a bit on one of the Set #2 stories for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
20_rings.
SATURDAY, SEPT. 17, 4:30
After tossing and turning most of the night, I got up, and worked on some fics. “Chance Encounter” is now finished, at least for LJ posting, but I’m going to have it beta’d before posting it at SoA. I also worked on Set #2, Theme #6 for 20_rings.
I went back to bed about 6, got up again at 7:30. Jim and I are going to work on the yard this morning, and then he has to take her to Santa Maria Apartments, to see if she has anything salvageable.
12 NOON
Jim and Anna left a half hour ago. I put a roast in the crock pot, and came back here; finished my 20_rings story, and puttered a bit on Road to Edoras.
My cousin, M.J. called me while we were out in the yard. They’ve all been worried over me, even though they knew through my sister I was OK. I had planned to call my other cousin, M.J.’s sister today, but she told me that A. was working today, so I just sent her my love.
The yard itself is beginning to look just a little better; but with all the debris piled out in front of the fence, it’s still pretty bad. No telling *when* they will be able to pick up the debris.
1:30
Jim and Anna got back early. They could not get anything down today. It's nine flights of stairs after all, to have to deal with. But they are going back tomorrow; Jim’s hired a crew to help carry her things down nine flights of stairs. I’m going to have to move everything back to the craft room out of the guest room, so she can store her stuff. That’s assuming that much of it is salvageable.
3 PM
As we get ready to go out on an errand, the mail arrives. Grey Wonderer, I love you!!! A big fat packet of *STORIES*! Several Challenge 20 stories and the latest chapter of “A Secret Gate” by Elanor!! Oh, bliss!! O joy!!! I have *STORIES*!! Whoo-hoo! Now my only challenge is to make them last a while. I definitely want to save Ch. 11 to savor tonight! But, alas, I will probably have all of them read up by bedtime. Then I can read them over! I have *STORIES*!!!!!
9 PM
I’ve read most of the stories. *sigh* I only have one Challenge story left, and the chapter of “A Secret Gate”. I can’t wait to get back to LJ land, so I can comment on the stories, and read all the others.
I also finished another 20_rings story.
I’m going to go take a lovely long bath with the last of my stories, and then get to bed. I’m a bit sore and achy from all the yard work this morning.
Tomorrow, Jim and Anna will go back to the apartments. They’ve hired some movers to come help. She very well may be able to retrieve most of her stuff! I know will be happy to hear that!
SUNDAY, SEPT. 18, 8:30 PM
Last night I took a long slow bath and read that chapter of “A Secret Gate” that GW had mailed to me.
This morning, I had to move all the stuff from the sewing room that had flooded back into it, to leave the guest room empty for Anna’s things that are being rescued from her apartment.
And then M.A. came over to visit. It’s been horrible for her. Her home and all her things are gone. She’s staying with some friends, who only just got their power back on, and still have no A/C. She looks tired; she has yet to hear from FEMA--she applied to get one of those campers they are lending to people who are homeless now. She’s hoping to be able to get back to work by the end of the month. I can’t help but worry about her, though--how many people are going to have the money for massages right now?
After she left, I came back to work on some fic and play a bit of Solitaire, and lo! And behold! The lights were on on the modem. I raced up front and grabbed the remote: CABLE WAS BACK ON! So then I came back here and logged onto the internet, half afraid that it still would not be working--but it WAS!!!!
HELLO! EVERYONE! I AM BACK.
I am so grateful that this sign of normalcy is here. For me, this ordeal is ending. But for many others, such as my sister-in-law, and Anna, and a good many of my dear friends, it will be an ongoing nightmare for many months, if not years to come.
I have been so blessed.
I don’t know why we were so fortunate, when so many others were not.
But life here on the Gulf Coast will *never* be the same again.
MY KATRINA DIARY
SUNDAY, slightly past midnight:
I go lay on top of the bed with the dogs. They don’t understand this change in routine, but jump up to lie down with me. We all three doze off, but a few hours later, as the wind picks up, Sugar tries to get so close to me that she shoves me off the pillow. Sissy jumps up and down, prowling the room and whining. I listen to the racket the wind is making. I can hear our neighbor’s metal shed coming apart. I wonder if part of it is going to whip through and break a window. I think about getting up and getting back online, but the dogs are too restless.
MONDAY, AUG. 29, 5 AM:
I get up, let the dogs out briefly, and then put the gate at the end of the hall, so they are confined to our bedroom and the computer room. I try to log on just one more time to LJ, but the power goes off just as I begin. So much for that.
I go check on Anna; she’s still sleeping. I locate the batteries for the radio, and try to call Jim--but the landline is down, so I get out the cell-phone. He’s not in his office, so he’s probably busy on the floor with patients. I try to find a radio station.
Anna wanders down to sit with me, and in between fiddling with the radio, I go to look out the different windows. The wind is howling and the water has begun to come into the sewing room, as expected. I look out the kitchen window and watch the trees sway. I realize any of them could come down at any time. About 8 AM a huge groaning noise makes me look out the window in the front door. I’m stunned. The *sycamore* is down. That thing is huge, and has roots clear to China. I never expected *that* one to go down! Within less than an hour, it is followed by the largest of our ash trees and the largest of our popcorn trees--and most heartbreaking of all, our holly tree. By a miracle every single one of them falls *away* from the house. But I’m worried about the trees in the backyard. If they come down in the same direction, it will be toward the house. I’m watching pieces of the front porch roof peel away and go flying, as well as pieces of the greenhouse. The greenhouse door shatters, and flies off.
The carport is swaying, but it’s blocked from flying away. It’s wedged in by the fallen sycamore tree. The arbor over the front gate is gone.
The sewing room is flooded, of course, although not as badly as I feared. But the bathroom where the dogs normally stay is flooding as well as the laundry room. The flooding would probably be worse with this amount of rain, but it’s coming in horizontally, and blowing too hard to flood the street.
About 10, Jim calls on the cell-phone to check on us. He can’t talk but a minute, but I reassure him we are OK so far.
As the storm continues to roar, Anna and I hunker down in the living room with the radio. All I can get is news out of New Orleans; none of the local stations are still on the air. It’s unimaginable, listening to all the people calling desperately for help, stranded on roofs or in attics. I feel sick to my stomach.
I try to call Jim one more time. The cell service is down.
Around 1 PM, Anna and I eat some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. According to what we can glean intermittently on the radio, Katrina is just about half over. It’s already lasted twice as long as previous hurricanes in my experience.
We go back in the living room, and I fiddle with the radio. We get some news from Mobile briefly, but then it is gone, and we are left listening to N.O. again.
I must have dozed off sitting there, for the next thing I know, I hear some voices outside. The rain has stopped, the wind has died down except for a few gusts. I look out and see a few people walking in the street. It’s after 7 PM.
I venture out into the front yard. It’s an obstacle course. Miraculously, my car is unscratched. But it’s of no use, because it’s trapped inside the carport, blocked in by the sycamore tree in the driveway. The carport itself is bent and buckled, but still standing. One side of the carport gate is shut. The other side is wedged open by the tree. The front gate is gaping open, and no longer meets in the middle. Although the fence is badly damaged, the trees are blocking the areas where it is broken. I use a bungee cord to tie the small gate shut, and cautiously let the dogs out. They are confused, and they both turn and give me a dirty look, as if to say “What did you do to our yard?” (like it’s *my* fault). They do their business quickly and come right back inside.
Anna and I have tuna sandwiches for supper. She goes to lay down. I go sit in the car, to turn on its radio and see if I can find any news, and to have a bit of A/C for a few minutes. I’m in luck: WLOX, our local ABC-TV station and all the local radio stations have banded together to use equipment and share coverage of the storm.
The news is appalling. Everything along Highway 90 seems to be destroyed. Bay St. Louis and Waveland are underwater. After sitting there and listening for a while, I go back in, and lay down on top of the bed.
I am desperately worried about my husband and my sister-in-law. And I know my son, my sister, my brother and my mother are all going to be frantic about us. And of course
marigoldg is going to be equally frantic about her mom. And I’m worried about coneygoil. And all my friends in my barony, and at Michael’s. No way to know how anyone has fared.I doze fitfully off and on. But mostly I lie awake in the dark. It’s really, really dark.
TUESDAY, AUG. 30, 4 AM:
My left knee is killing me. I’m hot and sweaty; I know I won’t sleep any more right now. I get up, feed the dogs and let them out. I put the gate across the hallway, so that they won’t surprise Anna, who is still asleep. They go and lie on the couch, while I sit in my chair with the radio. I finish off the last of the buttermilk, and I am finally able to pick up MPB (Mississippi Public Broadcasting) I listen to that for a while. It’s so much worse than I ever thought it could be. 80% of the state is without power. Then I finally get some local news. It’s scary. Too scary.
I can’t help but think some more of all the people who are going to be frantic: my family, Anna’s family, everyone on my flist. No way to let anyone know we’re OK.
And I worry some more about my husband--how did the hospital make it during the storm? And my sister-in-law, M.A.--from all I have heard, Bay St. Louis is gone.
About 9, I hear Anna stirring. I put the dogs up, and she comes and we both sit in the living room and listen to the radio for a couple more hours; but then it starts to repeat the same thing, so I switch it off for a while to save the batteries.
I go out and walk around in the neighborhood for a little while, shocked at the damage, yet also relieved that it’s not worse. It could have been much worse.
I talk to my next-door-neighbor, J. and his aunt and uncle, who are staying with him. Then I come back to the house, and try to occupy myself. I fiddle with this and that, but can’t really settle to anything. Suddenly, I hear Jim’s voice. I hurry out, to see him at the gate. He comes in, but he can’t stay. They only allowed him to leave long enough to check on us, and on M.A. Then he has to return to the hospital. He doesn’t know how soon they will allow him to leave again.
He tells me of what happened there. It sounds unreal, like a disaster movie. At one point, he nearly got sucked out of a fifth floor window when he was trying to secure a patient’s room.
He could have been killed. It takes a while for that to sink in.
All too quickly, he has to leave.
I cook some hamburgers on the gas grill for lunch. We are only going to have a day or two to use up the meat in the freezer.
I hear about ice being sold out of a truck on Dedeaux Road. I ask J. if he would mind taking me up there to get some, and he kindly obliges. The line is incredibly long; we’re lucky. They are down to 30 bags by the time it is our turn. We buy 6 bags each.
I make pork chops and baked potatoes on the grill for supper.
I come out and sit in the car for a while and write in this journal. Then go in to try and rest. I doze in my chair off and on until midnight, and then go lay on the bed, and toss and turn there. It’s so hot.
WEDNESDAY, AUG. 31, 5 AM:
I get up and take care of the dogs, then listen to the radio and doze off in my chair.
About 8, I get up and decide to make breakfast. I use the grill, and cook all the remaining bacon and the last two eggs; after Anna and I eat, I boil some drinking water to clean the dishes. I save the rinse water to pour in the toilet for flushing. Anna helps me change the ice in the coolers. I save the melted ice for cleaning with.
Around 10, I hear M.A.’s voice. She’s out there with a friend, and I ask them to come in.
At least she’s alive.
She now possesses the clothes on her back and her cat.
Her house and everything in it is completely gone. Her car is gone. Her car was insured, but her possessions were not; she was a renter, and did not have renter’s insurance.
She won’t stay right now. She’s staying with the friend who brought her over. I remind her that she’s more than welcome to come back and stay with us again. I can tell that she’s in shock, even though she’s trying to put a good face on it. She has nothing.
She decides to go over to the hospital to let Jim know she’s OK. Apparently he never found her Tues.; I know he’s got to be worried sick over her.
I’m really depressed now.
AFTERNOON:
The water is now running, but we have a “boil water notice” for now, and of course it’s only cold. At least I have a grill to boil it on.
I invite J. to come over for dinner this evening. I’m going to cook everything I feasibly can before it goes bad. Everything else in the freezer will have to go out. Some other friends of ours, D. and her husband, L., stop by to check on us. They are staying down the street with her mother. Their own house, south of I-10, had flooded. They had to break into their neighbor’s house next door and go up to his second floor to escape the water. Hearing this makes me frantic about four of my friends who I know live very near them. Their house has no second floor, and I wonder if they stayed or went. I invite D. and L. to come back this evening for supper.
I try to clean the house up just a little bit.
Damn.
I’m spotting.
I haven’t had a period in four years. There’s not a pad in the house. Embarrassed, I go over to one of my other neighbors, across the street to borrow some. Sheesh. As if the hurricane wasn’t bad enough. I guess it’s the stress.
I cook. A lot of chicken. Some pork chops. Some steak. Spaghetti casserole, broccoli--all on the grill.
HURRICANE DESSERT:
½ a frozen cake, thawed, broken into small pieces; reserve ½ cup of crumbs
3 packages of thawed frozen fruit: I used strawberries, blackberries and peaches
1 cup sugar
1 cup flaked coconut
½ cup brown sugar
Mix the thawed fruit and sugar with the broken cake pieces and put into two disposable aluminum loaf pans. Mix the reserved crumbs with the coconut and the brown sugar, and sprinkle on top. Let sit until ready to serve.
The five of us eat. D. and L. say it’s the first cooked meal they’ve had since Saturday. After those two leave, laden with leftovers, as I’ve no room for all the leftovers in the coolers, Anna, J. and I talk on the front porch for an hour or so, until the mosquitoes drive us in. I ask J. to come back over for supper again tomorrow.
9 PM:
I’m just finishing taking a cold shower, when I hear Jim’s voice. I quickly throw on a robe and go down front. Good news--he’s home. Bad news--he has to go back first thing in the morning.
THURSDAY, SEPT. 1, 6:30 AM
In spite of the heat, it’s the best night’s sleep I’ve had since Saturday.
Jim’s got to get back to the hospital. He won’t be back before Friday night or Saturday morning.
The house stinks.
It’s time to clean.
3:15 PM
I’ve scrubbed the floors in the sewing room, cleaned out the fridge and freezer--threw out a *lot* of food. Hauled out five bags of garbage, including most of the dogs’ blankets--they got wet with the nasty flood water.
Anna and I cleaned up the coolers again. We badly need more ice. I put our last four bags in the coolers and the freezer and fridge are completely empty. The freezer stinks, but it’s too dark in the laundry room to clean it out properly.
We are also running low on bottled water.
Anna is such a trooper--she’s game for anything; and never complains. I hope I’m that tough when I’m her age. I doubt it, though. I’m not that tough now.
4:30 PM
J. came over with four bags of ice! I could have hugged him!
Our backyard neighbor came over with a case of water. J. and two other young men came over and moved some of the sycamore tree, and helped me make a barricade at the driveway gate so the dogs can’t get out. We used pieces of metal from our other neighbor’s shed. It was blown to smithereens during the storm, but the corrugated metal panels are useful.
I invite J. over for supper again, and we have steak and baked potatoes. It’s the last of the meat from the freezer. Everything else was too thawed to be safe.
After supper, I listen to the radio for a while. It sounds like the worst is over for us, and things seem to be improving.
FRIDAY, SEPT. 2, 4 AM:
I wake up hurting--knees, back and sinuses. I take three Tylenol and go sit in my chair and try to doze. About 5, I give up. I’m not hurting anymore, but I *itch*. I go to take a cold shower and *wash*my*hair*! Oh bliss!
It’s very quiet and somewhat cooler this morning. For the first time since the storm, I feel like working on some fic.
5 PM
It’s been a very quiet day. My Challenge 20 story is nearly done; it’s way longer than I thought it would be, and is going to take a while to type in when the power finally comes on. I can’t believe it’s a Challenge Friday and I don’t have a story in, nor any way to read any. Silly thing to worry about with so many terrible things going on, huh? But I can’t help it, I do. I cut out a purse, and I’m going to try to sew it by hand. I have some upholstery thread, so that’s a bit stronger than regular.
7 PM
Jim’s home. I thought he wasn’t going to make it tonight, as it’s after the 6 PM curfew, but he’s a nurse with a hospital ID, so he’s free to come and go. He’s got to be back at the hospital by noon tomorrow. He tells me my niece, D., reached him at the hospital, so now at least my sister and brother will know I’m safe. But the hospital phone is somewhat sporadic.
Our cell service comes up tonight, oh joy! But it’s still not reliable, and we can’t get any long distance calls out.
Tomorrow morning we are going to see if we can find out a way to let people know we are alive. I just know everyone has to be frantic!!
SATURDAY, SEPT. 3, 6:30 AM:
We get up and moving early. We have only until noon to get as much done as we can. We eat some bread and cheese and head out. First we go to the nursing home, but they won’t let us in to see Momma. She’s fine, they say, but they are not allowing visitors because of infection control. We had heard Winn-Dixie was open, but the line outside is very long. “Why don’t we try the Wal-mart in Wiggins?” asks Jim. I hesitated. It would take nearly a quarter of a tank of gas, and Jim has to get back to the hospital. But we decide to take the chance.
I’m glad we did. We found everything we needed but bread and ice. And on the way back, we spot the National Guard passing out ice in Saucier. We pick up four 10# bags. On the way home I see one of the churches giving away clothes in the parking lot. I think of Anna and M.A.
But no time now.
We barely have time to unload the car before Jim has to leave to go back to work. It’s his birthday.
Anna and I clean out the coolers and have lunch. Since the car is now unblocked, I take her up to that church. A friend of mine, K., is the pastor’s wife. While Anna looks for a few things for herself, K. helps me to find a few things M.A. might be able to use.
Then we stop at one of the schools that is being used as a shelter. It has occurred to me that the Red Cross could help notify my son and Marigold and her brother. Jim told me the hospital is getting sporadic internet, so I also give him some email addresses to try. Our cell phone is working a little bit locally, but we still can’t call long distance.
An afternoon as quiet as it can be, with chain saws, generators and helicopters everywhere. I do a bit of hand sewing on my purse, and a little reading, and doze off.
The house stinks again.
SUNDAY, SEPT. 4, 2 AM
I wake up in my chair, put the dogs up, and go lay down on the bed. I have some wild dreams, and keep waking up. I finally realize what’s keeping me awake--my backyard neighbors have gotten a generator--noisy? You would not believe!
But I also have some plot bunnies.
About 5:30, I give up on laying there, get up, let the dogs out. It’s pleasantly cool this time of morning, so I go outside to sit for awhile, and listen to PRN on the radio.
About 8, I go ask Anna if she wants some breakfast--cereal, since I got powdered milk yesterday--but it turns out she likes to eat hers dry.
Then I start doing laundry. By hand. In cold water. I really can’t do all of it--only the necessities: some underwear, Jim’s scrubs. Still, it’s nearly noon by the time I finish. My fingers look like prunes, and we have clothesline strung all over the front porch.
12 NOON:
There’s a young man at the front gate, who wants to know if he can help me. Turns out there are three of them, Marines, based at Eglin AFB in FL. They have come over on their own to help out. They have a chain saw, and offer to help clear the yard of the most dangerous debris. They’re on leave, just back from Iraq, and this is how they choose to spend their down time! I am *so* grateful--this will be that much less for Jim to worry about when he gets home. I wish I could offer them cookies or tea or *something*! They are just *angels*! They clear out a lot of the debris--and then, glory be! they try to save our holly tree! They pull it upright with their truck, and secure it with ropes. Maybe it will live! I hope so. That was the first tree we planted on this bare lot when we moved in almost 29 years ago.
3 PM:
Marigold calls! I can’t believe she got through! I almost couldn’t find the phone. It’s so good to hear her voice! I reassure her as to our safety, and then she talks to her mom. Just knowing that she knows and will notify my flist makes me feel like I’m part of the human race again!
4 PM:
We drive down to Crossroads Mall on Highway 49, where FEMA has the National Guard distributing water and ice; we didn’t ask for it, but they also put a box of food in the back: there’s a loaf of bread in it and a bag of bagels! We have bread!
Our across-the-street neighbors have gotten a generator, so I asked them to plug in my cell phone on the charger tonight, so I won’t have to worry about missing a call tomorrow.
11:30 PM
I’m sleeping in my chair when I’m awakened by the sound of rain. At first I don’t think much of it--and then I remember my laundry--the porch roof is mostly gone! I dash out to bring it in. Most of it is OK, and I take it to hang up on the shower rod in the guest bathroom. But the socks will just have to hang there.
MONDAY, SEPT. 5, 6:30 AM:
I wake up to a pleasantly cool morning. I get some breakfast and sit out on the front porch and sew, and listen to the radio, while I wait for my neighbors to get up so I can retrieve the phone. It’s very lucky that I did for about 9, Anna’s son calls, very glad to be able to speak to her.
Jim gets home about 10. We head out on a quest: to see our insurance agent, get gas, and ice.
We get home about 2 PM, mission accomplished. We have some lunch. Jim’s exhausted--he’s only had about a hour’s sleep in the past 24; he dozes off in his chair. I go sit on the porch and work on my purse until it’s time to go make supper.
TUESDAY, SEPT. 6, 5:45 AM:
Apparently, I fell asleep in my chair last night. At some point, Jim must have taken my shoes and glasses off, and turned off the radio and flashlight.
I wake him up, take a cold shower and dress, and get him off to work. He won’t be home for another 24 hours at least.
9 AM
Anna and I head for the bank, and to get some gas and some ice. We stand in line 45 minutes at the bank to just get inside, but we are only in line at the gas station for about a half-hour. While we wait for gas, a young man comes along the line of cars, offering sandwiches. He and some friends just came down to see what they could do to help out. They are not with any organization or group. After the fill-up (limit $40 worth--but we didn’t need quite that much) we head down to the distribution point at Crossroads Mall for ice. We are only in line for an hour and a half today--a half hour less than yesterday. It took almost a quarter of a tank of the gas we just got!
On the way home, I decide to swing by to see how my SCA friends, our baron and baroness and Mistress D. and Sir L., who all share a household, have fared. Their street is south of I-10, and dead ends just off a bayou, and I’ve been horribly worried about them. As well I should have been. I find them all in the front yard sifting through the rubble, trying to find what can be salvaged. Their house completely flooded. They had ridden the storm out there because of the pets, and ended up in the attic: an Irish wolfhound, a Samoyed, a Pomeranian, two cats, and four adults. The baroness laughs and tells me I should have seen them trying to get the Irish wolfhound into the attic: “Irish wolfhounds can swim, but they can’t climb worth a damn,” she jokes. But I can see that it's really no joking matter: they spent hours in the attic waiting for the water to go down. It came up to within a foot of their ceiling. I want to cry when I see their home; I’m sure it’s ruined, though they have hopes that some of their possessions can be salvaged if they can dry them out soon enough. But I’m so grateful to know they are safe. They are staying with Mistress D.’s mother, and are also able to reassure me about the well-being of several other members of our barony, including our founding baron and baroness and my friend Lady E., who lived in Pass Christian just a block up from the harbor. They lived in areas that were very hard hit, and have probably lost their homes as well, but at least they are safe.
We get home and I do some more laundry (if I never have to wash laundry by hand again it will be too soon) and spend a quiet afternoon sewing, talking to Anna, and listening to PRN.
WEDNESDAY, SEPT. 7, 5 AM
I’ve been awake off and on for a couple of hours, so I finally get up, have a little bit of breakfast (donated pop-tarts) and try to straighten up the house a little bit. I am determined not to wait until the power comes back on, or I will have more mess than I know how to deal with. I clean up the Hot Spots in the dining room and do a 15 minute Room Rescue in the living room. I take my craft table out of the living room and put it back in the sewing room now that the flooded water has dried up. Since I can’t vacuum the carpet with no power, I take the yard rake to it.
Then I spray the whole house liberally with air freshener, and spray carpet freshener on the carpet.
Then I go sit on the porch and work on my purse.
10 AM--
Jim’s not home yet. I’m getting a bit worried. After a few tries, I finally get through to the hospital on the cell phone. He’s tied up, and probably won’t get back home until 3 or 4 in the afternoon. So Anna and I go on an ice run. While we are in line for ice, some volunteers give us grilled hamburgers and a soda, so we have lunch in the car. Then we head home, and clean out the coolers.
4 PM--
Jim’s finally home. He’s exhausted, and he has to be back at 8 AM tomorrow morning. And he won’t be able to come home again until Friday evening or Saturday morning.
THURSDAY, SEPT. 8, 6:30 AM:
I get up, get Jim off to the hospital. Work on my purse some more.
Quiet day. Went to the bank again, and made an ice run.
Nina (Coneygoil) called tonight. I’m *so* relieved to know that she and her family are OK. One more fear I can put to rest.
I couldn’t sleep. Too hot. House too stinky. I woke up about 1 AM, thinking that it was about 5. I tried to read a little bit by flashlight. Not too good. *MAN* do I miss the computer and LJ--that’s what I usually do in the middle of the night and can’t sleep! Having no power and no internet really sucks when you’ve got insomnia. But I try to keep reminding myself of how many people have it so much worse--I really can’t complain compared to people who’ve lost *everything*! But thinking about that keeps me further from sleep than ever…
Just sitting around in the dark with nothing to do is depressing. I try to work on fic in my head, but I can’t concentrate.
FRIDAY, SEPT. 9, 6:05 AM
Sometime after about 4, I must have finally dropped off to sleep for a while. I go take a cold shower and change clothes.
I sit on the porch and listen to PRN, and finish my purse. I’m pretty pleased with how it came out. It’s a shoulder sling (McCalls 2933), made of old blue jeans. On the front flap, which I altered slightly, I used a blue Sharpie to calligraph “Above all shadows rides the Sun and Stars forever dwell; I will not say the day is done, nor bid the Stars farewell…” from LotR, and then beneath that I wrote “All storms shall pass.” I beaded it with random spirals and starbursts. On the front of the purse itself, I beaded some Celtic knotwork, and on the strap, I stamped a tree, symbolic of all the trees we lost, and put a little more beading. On the back I put a unicorn patch that I’d been saving up for something. I put a D-ring on the front flap, and used a lanyard hook to attach a purchased beaded tassel I happened to have on hand. Then on the back, I put my name and the date with the blue Sharpie. Considering I sewed it by hand, it didn’t come out half-bad.
Anna’s son called.
FEMA did not come, even though Jim had put in a claim for Anna and for us, calling from the hospital, and had been told they would come on Friday.
Domino’s is open. I went and picked up a cheese pizza for supper. (They weren’t taking orders. All they had were cheese or pepperoni.)
Listened to the radio for a while, and slept in my chair.
SATURDAY, SEPT. 10, 5:30 PM
I wake up, let the dogs out and feed and water them. I do a 15 minute Room Rescue in the living and dining rooms, and try to organize all the canned and dried foodstuffs in the kitchen. Then I get something to eat and go sit on the front porch, listening to PRN and working on fic.
About a quarter to 9, the crew Jim hired comes to start taking out our poor broken trees. They take 8 from the back yard, and 6 from the front. When they are done, there are only 4 left standing: the cypress in the back yard, and in the front yard, the small ash, the smallest popcorn tree, and the holly that my Marine angels rescued, *if* it lives.
About 9:30, Jim gets home. He’s exhausted.
Around 11, the tree guys say they are finished. But they didn’t take care of the huge roots from the sycamore or the ash--so they don’t charge us the full amount. I’m not sure who we can get to deal with those roots and stumps, or how much more it will cost. Then the guy who’s going to fix the roof, porches and fence comes by for his deposit. Then we go out for gas, ice and to find an open grocery store. We also find a Sonic that is open, and gleefully stop for cheeseburgers for lunch!
When we get home, I find a note on the front door: my niece and her new husband came by to check on us. I wish I could get in touch with her--we must have *just* missed them. But I can’t find her cell phone number.
We drive out to the nursing home to check on Momma. They let me see her this time, and we visit for a while.
Then we get home--
If the power is on, can cable be far behind? *Crosses fingers*
Tonight I will take a *WARM* shower! Woo-hoo!!!!
SUNDAY, SEPT. 11, 6 AM:
Today is our 29th wedding anniversary. We were supposed to be in Colorado. Oh well. “Life is what happens when you are making other plans.” So much for our romantic getaway. *sigh*
I get Jim off to work; he’ll be home again tomorrow afternoon, hopefully. He is hoping that after this they can get back to a regular schedule. I do some laundry in the *washing machine* (I so *love* my washing machine. I never appreciated it so much before.) and spend the day typing this journal into the computer, as well as some of the fic I had worked on.
No need to make an ice run. I turn on the fridge, and when it gets cold enough, I start putting the food in it from the coolers. For supper I make hash out of some potatoes, and some leftover steak. I have to remember, though to turn off the ice maker and not use the water dispenser. Our water is still contaminated, and we are still under a boil water alert. I will use bottled drinking water to cook with for the foreseeable future. I can use tap water for cleaning, though. Just to be double sure, I boil it *and* add bleach!
Cable’s still out. Bummer. No internet yet.
Can’t sleep. I teach myself Spider Solitaire.
MONDAY, SEPT. 12, 5 AM
I get up, let the dogs out, take a *warm* shower. (I will never take warm showers for granted again!) I do some straightening up, and finish the rest of the laundry.
I type some more of what I had written during the storm, and then after lunch, Anna and I go to the Winn-Dixie; she has a few things she wants to get, and I pick up some things for supper.
When we get home, I get ready to start cooking and *the power goes out again*! This is really upsetting, as we have no ice now. Fortunately it’s only off for about an hour.
For supper, I make oven-fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, peas, sliced tomato, and for dessert, a *real* scratch banana pudding, with meringue on top.
We go to bed at a decent hour.
But I’m still not sleeping well. And I have a bit of tummy upset.
TUESDAY, SEPT. 13, 5 AM
I get up and get Jim off to work. I’m going to try and get back to some semblance of normality today.
I wish the cable would come back. I miss my internet. I miss my LJ. I really miss my flist.
I clean, change the bed, work on folding all that laundry, and straighten things up a bit. After lunch we go to Winn-Dixie again. I pick up some ground beef. I’m only buying a few things at a time, as we have yet to clean out the stinky freezer. (I had taken out and thrown away everything, but it was too dark, even with a flashlight, to scrub it out like I did the fridge.) Jim promised to help me with that this weekend. I’m going to make meat loaf and macaroni and cheese for supper tonight.
I have a little time before I have to start cooking, so I come in here to type up some more stuff.
Jim’s home and we have supper. Then one of his friends from New Jersey calls to check on him, so I come back here, and call my sister on the cell phone, and work on this journal.
The following is rated TMI, for bodily functions. Feel free to skip the next paragraph, as I am only including it for my own future reference.
I seem to have more than a touch of diarrhea today. I’m a bit worried. I have tried to be meticulous about not drinking or cooking with anything but bottled water. And no one else seems to be suffering from it, so I hope maybe it’s just the relief from the stress. If it doesn’t ease off, I’ll take a Lomotil before bedtime. But I can’t help but worry a bit, after all the warnings about dysentery.
OK, safe to read more now.
10 PM
Earlier this evening, I had tried and failed, to call
grey_wonderer. So I was quite pleased to get a call from her this evening. We yakked and yakked and yakked and yakked. It was wonderful to hear her voice. I’ve just missed LJ *so much*! And I was just starved for someone to talk hobbits and fic to. We talked until after midnight, and she promised to give everyone my hugs, and tell my flist how much I missed them!WEDNESDAY, SEPT. 14, 4:30 PM
It’s been a quiet day, almost normal. I polished up my Challenge 20 story, so as soon as the cable comes back I can send it. Did some laundry, cleaned house.
We got some wonderful news: On Saturday, residents of Anna’s apartment building will be allowed to be escorted to their apartment to see if there is anything they can salvage. And the mail came. Anna got a check from FEMA. So things are definitely looking up.
My brother called. He’s been horribly worried, but now he is reassured that we are all OK. He’s hoping to make time to get over here soon, but is not sure if he’s going to be able to.
My tummy’s feeling better today.
Tonight I print out the pictures I took of the damage. It looks even worse than I remembered.
THURSDAY, SEPT. 15, 9:40
Today and tomorrow, Jim finally has some days off. He’ll also be off Saturday and Sunday, giving him a long weekend.
We spend the morning making various phone calls to try and find out information we need to know to deal with our storm damage. Jim also makes some calls to find out some things for Anna and M.A.
After lunch, we go run some errands, for once not having to go get ice. We take care of a couple of things locally, and then head up to Wiggins to go to the Wal-mart there. Afterwards, we find a catfish house open and have supper, before heading down to the nursing home to see my mother for a few minutes.
Our boil-water notice has been lifted. I dump the first bin of ice from the icemaker, and several cups of water from the filter in the fridge, to make sure any possible contaminated water is out of the lines.
We’ve seen the CableOne trucks busy in the area. Word is we will have cable back by the 23rd. Another week without internet…
FRIDAY, SEPT. 16, 11:30
I woke up at 5 AM, having very creepy dreams. I came in here and worked on some fic. I have very nearly finished “Chance Encounter” now.
I made a big breakfast this morning: sweet potato pancakes and bacon. Our plans today included going to the bank and then going to Lowe’s to pick up some yard tools this morning. But our plans just changed when we got a call from the man we had called about removing the huge rootballs in our yard. He’s able to come out at once. So Jim will run to the bank himself, to get the money to pay him, while he works on our yard.
He shows up only a few minutes after calling, with a Bobcat on a trailer. His big machine makes short work of all those huge roots. Jim barely has time to get back from the bank before he’s finished. I got some cool pictures. But my chip is almost full. I’m going to have to see about getting the pics downloaded so I can delete some of them.
Our yard really looks bare now. We’re off to Lowe’s.
3:45
Took forever to get home; a lot of the traffic lights are still not working, turning major intersections into giant four-way stops.
I worked a bit on one of the Set #2 stories for
20_rings.SATURDAY, SEPT. 17, 4:30
After tossing and turning most of the night, I got up, and worked on some fics. “Chance Encounter” is now finished, at least for LJ posting, but I’m going to have it beta’d before posting it at SoA. I also worked on Set #2, Theme #6 for 20_rings.
I went back to bed about 6, got up again at 7:30. Jim and I are going to work on the yard this morning, and then he has to take her to Santa Maria Apartments, to see if she has anything salvageable.
12 NOON
Jim and Anna left a half hour ago. I put a roast in the crock pot, and came back here; finished my 20_rings story, and puttered a bit on Road to Edoras.
My cousin, M.J. called me while we were out in the yard. They’ve all been worried over me, even though they knew through my sister I was OK. I had planned to call my other cousin, M.J.’s sister today, but she told me that A. was working today, so I just sent her my love.
The yard itself is beginning to look just a little better; but with all the debris piled out in front of the fence, it’s still pretty bad. No telling *when* they will be able to pick up the debris.
1:30
Jim and Anna got back early. They could not get anything down today. It's nine flights of stairs after all, to have to deal with. But they are going back tomorrow; Jim’s hired a crew to help carry her things down nine flights of stairs. I’m going to have to move everything back to the craft room out of the guest room, so she can store her stuff. That’s assuming that much of it is salvageable.
3 PM
As we get ready to go out on an errand, the mail arrives. Grey Wonderer, I love you!!! A big fat packet of *STORIES*! Several Challenge 20 stories and the latest chapter of “A Secret Gate” by Elanor!! Oh, bliss!! O joy!!! I have *STORIES*!! Whoo-hoo! Now my only challenge is to make them last a while. I definitely want to save Ch. 11 to savor tonight! But, alas, I will probably have all of them read up by bedtime. Then I can read them over! I have *STORIES*!!!!!
9 PM
I’ve read most of the stories. *sigh* I only have one Challenge story left, and the chapter of “A Secret Gate”. I can’t wait to get back to LJ land, so I can comment on the stories, and read all the others.
I also finished another 20_rings story.
I’m going to go take a lovely long bath with the last of my stories, and then get to bed. I’m a bit sore and achy from all the yard work this morning.
Tomorrow, Jim and Anna will go back to the apartments. They’ve hired some movers to come help. She very well may be able to retrieve most of her stuff! I know
SUNDAY, SEPT. 18, 8:30 PM
Last night I took a long slow bath and read that chapter of “A Secret Gate” that GW had mailed to me.
This morning, I had to move all the stuff from the sewing room that had flooded back into it, to leave the guest room empty for Anna’s things that are being rescued from her apartment.
And then M.A. came over to visit. It’s been horrible for her. Her home and all her things are gone. She’s staying with some friends, who only just got their power back on, and still have no A/C. She looks tired; she has yet to hear from FEMA--she applied to get one of those campers they are lending to people who are homeless now. She’s hoping to be able to get back to work by the end of the month. I can’t help but worry about her, though--how many people are going to have the money for massages right now?
After she left, I came back to work on some fic and play a bit of Solitaire, and lo! And behold! The lights were on on the modem. I raced up front and grabbed the remote: CABLE WAS BACK ON! So then I came back here and logged onto the internet, half afraid that it still would not be working--but it WAS!!!!
HELLO! EVERYONE! I AM BACK.
I am so grateful that this sign of normalcy is here. For me, this ordeal is ending. But for many others, such as my sister-in-law, and Anna, and a good many of my dear friends, it will be an ongoing nightmare for many months, if not years to come.
I have been so blessed.
I don’t know why we were so fortunate, when so many others were not.
But life here on the Gulf Coast will *never* be the same again.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 02:32 am (UTC)While you're looking for past entries, I added a snippet of The Errand Lad, http://www.livejournal.com/~rabidsamfan/179899.html. (And thank you, by the way, for the lovely review you gave to it at the MEFAs.)
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 03:44 am (UTC)And I'm so happy that Bergil's back. I loved that.
And it deserved every word.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 02:55 am (UTC)The road to recovery will be long. Please do post if you need anything or send me a private email with your mailing address (I sort of have it, in trying to find you on the Google map to see how badly damaged your area was!). I can send some money for you or your friends who are in need.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 03:49 am (UTC)The road to recovery is going to be long and painful. We are fairly comfortable, but I know many who are homeless and hurting.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 03:07 am (UTC)Isn't
I know this comment is a bit rambling, but that's sort of how I feel right now. It's just a miracle. You are our miracle lady!
*hugs and hugs and hugs and hugs*
If you need anything. Anything at all, you let me know, OK?
A little side note: you're a FlyLady! Me, too, but I'm a newbie. My sink is very shiny. :D
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 03:52 am (UTC)I'm not the best FLYbaby! in the world, but using her ideas helped keep me sane while the power was down.
(Did you know there is a FLYlady community here on LJ?)
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 03:18 am (UTC)So glad to see you back! We were all tremendously worried, especially before we heard anything about your safety. *hugs*
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 03:54 am (UTC)And I *am* sorry everyone was worried. Not being able to get in touch was one of the worst parts.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 03:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 03:58 am (UTC)I am so glad to be back. I don't know so much about brave--I just felt like once I had made the decision to stay, I'd better not whine about the results.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 04:01 am (UTC)Thanks so much for sharing your notes, though. It's so good that you documented your daily experience. I got caught up in Marigold's search for word of her mother and spend many hours trying to make contact with you and Anna, trying every trick I could think of in the Internet book and scanning lists upon lists, etc., for news since Marigold was so worried.
I searched and looked everywhere and it was so sad to see all the messages on all the search lists. It made me feel a part of it, though, and more connected to the tragedy than I was before (living in the Boston suburbs).
Anyway, I was sooooo happy to hear from Marigold that everything was OK with you and her Mom. Believe me that everyone on LJ was holding their breath to hear about you all.
So it sounds like you are doing well but I know that it will be a long haul before there is any semblance of normalcy. And kudos to your hard-working husband, doubtless one of the many unsung heroes.
I do wish you and your neighbors the best in all you have to do to rebuild but I also know that things will eventually come back to normal. They always do. (((hugs)))
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:18 pm (UTC)I thank you so much for all your efforts on Marigold's behalf. Not being able to assure others of our safety was really one of the *most* trying parts of the experience!
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 05:00 am (UTC)My family heard from our folks over in Fairhope and Gulf Shores and they are fine, but we haven't heard about their house. They had evacuated and when I heard from my mom, they hadn't been back in to see what was left. I am hoping no further news is good news.
Thank you so much for posting this! And yes, you were blessed, but I am glad you were. ((((((HUGS))))))
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:19 pm (UTC)I hope that their home is all right.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 05:43 am (UTC)I can't imagine what you all have been going through. I tried to explain it to my daughter, who is 10, by telling her to remember the tornado we had three years ago and image it lasting a day instead of a few minutes, and then picture it taking up most of our city instead of our neighborhood. Her eyes got really big and her mouth dropped open. She's not so sure she wants to go to college on the Gulf Coast now.:)
I have to hand it to you. You're a real trooper. I griped about the rain and the wet when I went camping back in July. I can't imagine doing laundry by hand and taking nothing but cold showers for days. You are one strong woman. So is Anna.
My heart goes out to all those you mentioned who lost everything. I get teary just thinking about everyone who is going to have to start completely over from scratch. My prayers will still be with all of you down there.
I'll stop blathering now. Take care, and I hope you get a good night's sleep soon.
Garnet Took.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:23 pm (UTC)Thanks for your concern and good thoughts.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 06:35 am (UTC)Again, we're all just as glad to have you back as you are to be back. I only regret that I won't be able to speak to you again until Wednesday.
Take care, dear. ((((hugs))))
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 06:41 am (UTC)My heart skipped a few beats when I read how dangerous the situation got for your hubby... it makes you even appreciate life more now doesn't it?
Ver tender {{{hugs}}} for you. I was so glad to see you back and you've been a real trouper.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:25 pm (UTC)My heart skipped a few beats when he told me about it, believe me!
(((hugs back)))
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 08:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:54 am (UTC)Wow. It feels like reading about a war, unreal and scary. I am extremely grateful that you are all right but I have trouble imagining the destruction and everything. I have seen the pictures from New Orleans mostly and of course followed the news hoping to get word of your city. Unfortunately all they wanted to talk about here was New Orleans so I had to search the net for any news of your town.
You and Anna and everyone are so brave! I hope the things in her appartment can be salvaged and that your family and friends get new homes and what they need.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:30 pm (UTC)In some ways it felt like being in a war. The nice young Marines who came to help out were just back from Iraq. They said it looked *worse* than Baghdad.
Well, we got a lot of things out of it, but no telling how much she can keep, as some of it is infected with mold.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 11:06 am (UTC)*hugs you tight*
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 11:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:31 pm (UTC)Kitty
Date: 2005-09-19 12:13 pm (UTC)It must have been horrible for all of you! I was on vacation when Katrina hit and had (probably too much!) time to look at the pictures on the TV and read articles at the internet. It was unimaginable. And it drove me nearly mad because nearly all we got to know was about New Orleans, New Orleans and no end. I know it was very bad there, but it wasn't the only damaged city. Sometimes one word or two about MS and then New Orleans again ... *sigh* ... and I was so very worried about you, and Anna!
I am so very sorry for your sister-in-law and all the peope who have lost everything, but now I am glad and so thankful at least you all are alive and well! What you told us now is certainly a nightmare, but it could've been so much worse, particularly for your husband. It is relieving to know you got away quite well from all this. And you were certainly very brave to put up so well with all this disaster! After reading this I realized for the first time truly how much we take for granted and how difficult life is without power and all the machines.
Now I hope you are able to salvage Anna's belongings. I am so glad she was not in her own appartment but with you!
Well, I should return to my work ...
*hugs*
Re: Kitty
Date: 2005-09-19 10:35 pm (UTC)They brought a good deal of stuff from her apartment. But some of it will have to go. It's been infected with mold.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 01:35 pm (UTC)We don't know one another, but I recognize your name from SoA and I've read some of your stories. Forgive me for being a terrible reviewer.
When I heard that you live on the Gulf Coast, I anxiously followed the latest news about your well being, praying for you and your family and everyone else there. I was relieved to hear you were safe when the news came.
I saw your post this morning about what you had written about your experience and I came over to read it. I was appalled and awed by the fierceness of the storm when you described the damage in your yard and to your neighbors. But when the Marines arrived, I started to cry and didn't finish until your post ended. It has done my heart and I'm sure a lot of other people's hearts as well, to know that so many good people arrived to help.
Like Nilmandra, if there is anything I can do, I would be pleased to help. My parents have recently moved into a retirement community and I have a lot of kitchen stuff that I would be happy to box up and send to your friend who lost everything. Some nice stuff and some that's been used a great deal, but it's still in very good shape. Anything I can do. A Walmart/Target gift card? Something where she can get what she needs. Please let me know if you see any needs of friends and family I can do something about. Even if it's too soon for most of the homeless to think about some of these things, know that you are all in my thoughts and prayers.
Karen
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:38 pm (UTC)Truth be told, M.A. could use *any* of the things you mentioned. Email me privately at aelfwina at cableone dot net, and I'll let you know how you could send it for her.
And anything she cannot personally use, I know others who *can*.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 01:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 02:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 03:16 pm (UTC)**hugs**
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:41 pm (UTC)We are glad we are safe, too!
**hugs back**
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 03:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:41 pm (UTC)I know I don't plan to do it again.
*hugs*
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 06:00 pm (UTC)My cousins fled to Baton Rouge from Covington north of Lake Pontchartrain to stay with my other cousin who keeps an apartment there. My two aunts 80 and 83 fled New Orleans with overnite bags and made it to Southaven and then Memphis where we met them and took them to our summer home.
The most important thing is hat they are safe and cared for but I cannot wrap my mind around their loss. Your account gives me hope. Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:46 pm (UTC)I'm so glad your aunts are OK. I know you're taking good care of them.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 08:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 08:59 pm (UTC)~Elenpteri
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:51 pm (UTC)I and mine are all right. But a very great many people are not, sadly.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 10:48 pm (UTC)I and mine are all right. But a very great many people are not, sadly.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 11:13 pm (UTC)Your diary is an inside view of what it was like to endure that. You have my admiration for the way you just got on with it. I think I would have been a gibbering wreck.
I wish I lived closer so I could help you and your poor sister out in some physical way. It's breaking my heart to read this and not be able to DO something! All I can say is thank goodness for those wonderful folks who stepped in to bring sandwiches and food, without anyone organising them. Those little acts of kindness are what make life worth the effort.
God bless you and your family. I hope you all manage to salvage your lives and that you, in particular, are around for a lot more years on lj.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-19 11:18 pm (UTC)I know that you will do whatever you can. It's hard not to be able to do something when you see tragedy strike.
I will be around as long as LJ will let me and I have an internet to post on!! You'd have to beat me off with a stick!!