Battening down the hatches here in littleTown, NC, because if Isabel does decide to hit, it looks like we're smack on its path here in this northeastern corner of NC right near the VA border. If I disappear Weds night, it's because we've run for the hills. I am *so* not going to 'tough it out' for two weeks as we did last winter in the ice storms that ravaged the town. Folks said the local damage from that reminded them of Fran, which was a baby in comparison to this behemoth. And it's hot as hell. The basement will be a pit of bacteria and mold within 3 days if the water gets in and stands. So that's my plan: stock up for a 3-4 day camping session, and head for the hills if it gets worse.
They say this storm has winds coming from the NE, which would be bad here. The property is largish, and the thick forest is back away from the house a good piece. But there five or six tall oak and sourgum trees well within striking distance of the house itself, just in the wrong spot. And some of them were weakened by the ice storms last year. I'd say if the winds don't drop down significantly, and if they're blowing in a northeasterly direction, the roof is toast.
I'll keep in touch with Kim and Mint by cell if we go down...
Off to read the pump owners' manual, find the tarps, fix up the chain saw, and start freezing blocks of ice.
Sigh. Florence was fun, we had a party in the tradition of all New Orleans 'Hurricane' parties. The roof sprung a leak; we used buckets. It wasn't so bad, but we thought we were really toughing it out. Erin was a little pipsqueak. They didn't even talk about evacuation for that baby. Andrew, now, that one had me ready to run for the hills, but the water didn't even get to the top step on the back porch. So why does Isabel scare the beejeezus out of me? I suppose that I am now responsible for two small boys, a geriatric, blind, deaf basset hound with a bad back, and a small black devil kitty who pukes at the sight of the car might have something to do with it.
Doesn't hurt that I know hubby isn't going to head for the hills or be home to help with whatever needs help: he's part of the local media and has a responsbility to the community. He'll be on 20-hour days just as he was during the ice storms, the war, the terrorist attacks, the Columbia explosion... It's part of life. I'm a pretty capable woman, all in all, but in the waiting days, I find that knowing I'll be alone in it is the hardest part.
(don't mind me, I'm just rambling.)