Old Friends & memories

I found this in my “drafts.” It’s a couple of years old, now. (I hadn’t realized that this site was that old!) I wish I had finished it, because I wonder where I was headed. And now, so much more has happened. Marie is making preparations for her wedding. A piece of the farm has sold. My friend, Mies, who is a sister of the heart and spirit, has moved to Texas. So, the more things change, and move, the more they stay the same. That’s not very original, I know but it’s so true. So - here’s what I found of an old post that never got published…

Our old neighbors, Paula and Gene were in town last week. They had some condo time up on the lake, and seemed to be beginning the search for land so that they can come back in about 4 years when they retire - again. And so, we found ourselves, all together at another former neighbor’s house, sharing stories and dessert, current events and future plans…..

My youngest just graduated from high school. Seeing Paula reminded me of that blue-eyed, tow-headed bundle of energy who would stand in my kitchen and cry and demand to be taken across the street to see Miss Paula. Once there, standing on her doorstep, he always hid behind my knees and refused to talk to her. I know she thought I was nuts…. But, that same toddler was known to sit in Gene’s lap and scarf down stuffed mushrooms (Gene makes THE BEST) - and generally act like he would never be tongue-tied in their presence. We had to tell them that he is certainly no longer shy. For that matter, he was voted not only “Most school spirited”, but also “Player of the Year” (we’re not talking sports, here) and “Biggest Flirt.”

We shared not only our street, but our church… and a great fondness for Irish music. For them, it was in the blood - I adopted it (both the Catholic Church as a convert, and the Irish music because it speaks to my soul). I distinctly remember celebrating the 75th anniversary of the Easter [Irish] Uprising at their house by eating and drinking and singing Irish Revolutionary songs all of that rainy, miserable Easter afternoon.

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So where was I going? Not sure, but I suspect I was feeling a bit low. And wishing to go back in time. I’m pretty much into going forward now. And I’m more likely to find remembering rainy, miserable Easter Sunday afternoons a joy. Ah! The more things stay the same, the more they change.

East of Katrina

The slow motion train wreck of a hurricane has passed west of us. Two tornado warnings this afternoon sent us all into an interior hall in the library. It didn’t hit so close, but the funnel clouds have been hanging around the neighborhood all afternoon. The air is heavy and unsettled. Not much rain has actually fallen, and the wind is intermittant. An unsettled night seems to be ahead.

I love to watch “weather” - the power fascinates me. By tomorrow I’ll be tired of it and ready to see it on it’s way. Fortunately, by Wednesday it should all be past us and the sun will be out.

North East of Katrina

We’ve been watching the weather channel a lot today. As this monster storm approaches landfall it’s rather like watching a train wreck in slow motion.

This morning as I was about to get up John had already turned on the weather channel. I knew something was up when I kept hearing “Camille….” That didn’t sound good. For us, the “good news” is that the course of the storm has moved west, and not right over us. That means we’re on the wet side though, so tomorrow and Tuesday look to be messy, windy and WET.

Back to the slow motion train wreck — Katrina is bigger than Camille. She covers the entire northern Gulf of Mexico. Jim Cantore is even sounding more nervous than excited. The weather channel reporters aren’t on the beach for this one — one is on the north side of Lake Ponchatrain, on inland up on I-65 north of Mobile, and Cantore is camped in a veteran’s retirement center 27ft above sea level in Gulfport MS. And I’m watching with what can most politely be described as a morbid fascination.

Storms do fascinate me. They also scare me. I read “Isaac’s Storm” and I was 16 when Camille hit. I sat through Opal as she roared inland, still with 70 mph winds as she roared over us sitting here nearly 200 miles inland. The five of us (JP and me and the kids) went to bed in the hall in the center of the house. I finally got up and got in my bed. We were so insulated in the hall that I couldn’t hear the storm and that made me more nervous than the sound of the wind. We had some branches come down, and a tree across the end of the street. Only 2 blocks away, friends sat in the dining room, praying the Our Father while trees crashed around them. When it was over, there were 9 trees down in their yard - one had nicked the garage roof, but the rest did no damage to the house. Other friends were without electricity for at least a week. Our freezer was full of other folks stuff.

But this time, I’m afraid New Orleans will have a really bad go of it. It’s really bad for those who were unable to leave, even if they wanted to go. Imagine, being an inner city resident with no way out. Or a tourist who couldn’t get a flight out. And the rest of the Gulf Coast has barely recovered from last year’s storms, or the ones earlier this season. It’s the price of living a paradise I guess. It’s so beautiful when it’s beautiful, and but so often the great storms exact a toll.

And so I’ll watch the train wreck, and hope not to be hit with the shrapnel. And hope that Marie and Kevin are ok in Tuscaloosa, and Mama and Stewart don’t have damage in Florence. And Bob and Roger are fine in Birmingham…. And just stand in awe of the power of storms.