Lift Up Your Hearts!

Central Florida news teams were positioned to cover what they thought would be the big news of the night—the election—and had to scramble when the weather took center stage.

Have you ever stood in the ocean and had a wave suddenly break over your head? Now imagine that the wave doesn't recede, but continues to pour over you for half an hour, and you have a picture of yesterday's rainstorm. If there's been a heavier downpour in all our 20-some years here, I don't remember it. (More)

Here's a cool interactive flash tool for tracking not only Ernesto but any other tropical storm that might be around, such as the Pacific's Ioke, which yesterday has winds of 160 mph and gusts of 195 mph!

Okay, I'm grateful no hurricanes threatened while we were out of town. Really I am. But it's good to be home, and I'd really rather Ernesto not be on the welcoming committee. Nor do I want him to be one of Porter's new co-workers in New Orleans.

I already gave away much of last year's "hurricane food"—the local food pantry specifically wants the canned stew and such we'd normally only eat as emergency rations. I've been replacing it gradually with new stock, but perhaps I'd better accelerate the process. And add to the stock of ice in our freezer, which as dwindled a bit, though we still have plenty in the form of water-filled, frozen milk jugs. I think everything else is in order.

But I hope not to have to prove it.

The weather forecast given on our local classical music stations considers itself to be grim. But highs in the mid-90's, although unpleasant, are commonplace here. I go from my air conditioned house to my air conditioned car to air conditioned just-about-everything-else. When I ride my bike it is hot enough, but there is A/C at the end, and a cool shower or swim at home. Nothing to complain about.

My heart goes out to those in the Northeast, with temperatures forecast to peak around 100, with excessive humidity as well, and not so many places with A/C. I remember those days—I'd pack up the kids and go visit somewhere, anywhere, even a shopping mall, just to find some cool air.

I hope you get relief soon!

I know hurricane season began June 1, but really, we're not supposed to have to think about this till August, at least! Yet here is Tropical Storm Alberto, with the potential to become the earliest hurrcane in 40 years to hit the United States. Oh, well, my Brother the Insurance Specialist did warn me that Florida has had an unusually easy 40 years. Guess he can say, "I told you so."

On the plus side, the long-delayed rainy season may finally be upon us. My garden should be happy, if Alberto doesn't beat it into the ground.

Yep, hurricane season is almost upon us, though I doubt there'll be much to be concerned about before August. The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration predicts an above average season, with 13 - 16 named storms, four to six becoming Category 3 or higher.

As NOAA National Hurricane Center director Max Mayfield said, "One hurricane hitting where you live is enough to make it a bad season."

There's not much to do but pray, watch, and wait for now. Our freezer has been full of ice and frozen jugs of water and other potables since the beginning of the season; the cupboards are replete with flashlights, batteries, and non-perishable food; the propane tank (for the grill and camp stove) is nearly full, and our plywood window covers line the garage wall. While I was out today, I filled the car's gas tank, figuring that prices can only go up in the next week or so, and wanting replenish the supply before everyone else has that idea. Other than that, our preparations have mainly comprised lending an occasional hand to a neighbor who is trying to get an outdoor project to a sufficient state that it can withstand abnormal levels of wind and rain. The next project will be some cleaning and organizing, both physical and electronic, in case we lose power for a while. But that's an ongoing effort, anyway....

The terrifying power of panic to disrupt and destroy was best illustrated this week in Iraq, where the stampede provoked by rumor of a suicide bomber killed and injured innocent people in numbers exceeding the wildest expectations of any individual with a bomb in his backpack.

As a far-off planet reflects the fiery sun, panic made its power known here on Wednesday, also. Driving to choir rehearsal on Wednesday night, we could have filled our gas tank easily at any of a number of stations along the way, for the price of $2.69/gallon. On the way home it was a different story. While we had been happily singing, word began to spread that Florida was running out of gasoline. The Orange County School District cancelled all non-essential bus service (sports, field trips) and announced that even with the cutbacks parents might have to begin driving their children to school in another week. This was enough to convince half of Central Florida that they needed to buy gasoline, NOW. Those calm, quiet gas stations we had passed earlier in the evening now had lines of waiting cars that stretched for blocks, and police officers on site to keep order. Prices had jumped at least 10 cents per gallon. A few stations had no lines—because they had run out of fuel.

We chose not to join the snaking lines, trusting that our 3/4 full gas tank would see us through until the situation stabilized. During hurricane season, the recommendation is that you don't let your gas tank get below half full. Maybe that's a good idea year 'round, because it wasn't Florida's disaster that caused this shortage.

If you have contacts in the Mississippi area, please check out this friend's plea for locating missing relatives.

By this time last year we had already experienced our first major hurricane, Charley, but Frances, Jeanne, and Ivan were September storms. Now we are not even into September, and we are up to K in named storms, with Tropical Depression 13 forming in the Atlantic.

Unless she takes an unexpected turn, the bull's eye of Katrina's target is New Orleans, but even far-away Pittsburgh is preparing for trouble, fearing heavy rains will cause flooding and trouble for the area's dams. Last year the remnants of Ivan made quite a mess of Western Pennsylvania. Our friends in Ohio and Indiana may be in for some rough weather, too. But it's New Orleans that needs our prayers most at the moment.

We awoke to our first hurricane warning of the season: Hurricane Katrina is heading towards South Florida, but that doesn't mean we're in the clear. It doesn't look like anything we need to worry about, but it's worth noting. I observe that the first hurricane warning comes one letter of the alphabet further than the last hurricane warning of last season.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, Typhoon Mawar is aimed straight at Janet, and it's a lot stronger than Katrina. I'm trusting the mountains will remove some of its fury before it reaches Kofu. Classes have been cancelled for the first two periods tomorrow, although the teachers still have to come to school.

It seems ludicrous, with the thermometer reading a very pleasant 72 degrees, and the rest of our family enduring subzero temperatures and the prospect of up to two feet of snow, but we, too, are under a winter weather advisory. Conditions are expected to change rapidly tomorrow, bringing in the coldest temperatures of the season and the possibility of several hours of hard freeze. Where we live does not usually get the worst of what is predicted, but we'll have to keep a weather eye out. I hope we don't have to pick all the grapefruit off our tree at once!

Here's a particularly appropriate excerpt from my father's as-yet-unpublished autobiography (to give a fancy name to the project he and I were working on when he died):

There was no kindergarten in the Pullman School system and I started first grade at the age of five, my sixth birthday coming before the new year and in time to let me start. I went to the Franklin Elementary School, which was about a half dozen blocks away. This gave me a rather short walk compared with that of many of the students. There were no school busses to the elementary schools in those days. I do not remember much about my first four years in school, although in 1980 I did find it easy to remember that one of my teachers had said that Mt. St. Helens was an extinct volcano.

Friday, October 1, 2004. 7:30 a.m. Again, I don’t know who gets the credit for this; it appears to be circulating unattributed.



A few random notes: (More)

Tuesday, September 28, 2004. 1:00 p.m.  The power is still on, and we are all happy about that. Porter is currently up on the roof, making repairs, and is glad that the pool is looking better this morning. Jonathan, Heather and I have a date to see some friends this afternoon, but we hope to get in some yardwork and a swim, too. Jonathan is not yet very helpful with the yardwork, but makes up for it by being incredibly cute as he tries to handle the rake. And he really enjoys the swimming part afterwards.