Written During the Storm

2:49 pm – September 26, 2004

And it keeps blowing. The power went out sometime last night, while I slept fitfully, uneasy with the roaring winds. And now it is late in the afternoon. David sleeps with the boys, and the storm continues. I think we may have dreamt through most of the nasty stuff, but watching the progression now, it feels like the intensity hasn’t lessened. Shingles from our roof have flown, across the gaps between our house and the neighbor’s, landing in a yard two houses away. The neighbor’s palms bend and sway. I know one will fall before this is over. It’s been too intense for too long for those poor creatures to remain upright. I can hear the wind in the fireplace. Perhaps She wants to take it for her own. It’s not been alight. I want to do it just once. That’s all I want really, winter and a fire. No more of this cyclonic madness. I’m done.

The curfew extends until five this afternoon, although I have been watching people driving down the street. I am bored. The radio just isn’t doing it this time. I am really happy to have the laptop but I don’t want to waste the battery life. But if I don’t do something I am going to go mad.

The phonecalls started this morning. Mom, Doug, Cat, all calling to see how we fared. It’s good to know that people are out there who care. Mom acts as my eyes for these storms. When we lose power, we are blind to anything but the immediate wind and rain. It makes me feel better knowing where these creatures travel to. But it doesn’t make the butterflies go away. I am tired of butterflies. Tired.

The winds are still gusting over 60 miles per hour (the radio does give me some news). I worry for Seemore – the sycamore who dances unwillingly in front of my porch. I still listen to my old windows rattle. But its not hot, so that’s something. But I want food. I want to cook and I can’t.

If I haven’t mentioned this before, I’m sick of this shit.

3:35 pm

It’s still windy, incessant and daunting. More shingles fly away, leaving bare spots on the roof. I shouldn’t have gone outside to look, but I did. I had to make sure you couldn’t see the attic from the ground. A black covering remains, although it’s like a scab on the roof. It’s preventing water from coming in, but it’s bare and vulnerable to the windy remnants of Jeanne. I called Mom, trying to see where the bitch floats. We are supposed to be out of the worst of it already, but apparently Jeanne didn’t get the memo and bands still assult our area. I wish I had TV so I could see the radar myself, but that won’t happen for some time.
At this point over 65% of Orange County is without power. Misery loves company, but I wish we all had lights and AC. Still, the house remains cool. That’s something to be thankful for.
The roar becomes a fixture after a certain point. I only get startled now when the fireplace makes noise or when I hear the shingles tear and thump onto the ground. So far, two have hit my car. Poor Roja. She serves me so well, but she’s got “personality” now with all her scratches and dents. I can hear the wind wushing through the attic. I miss gentle breezes. I really do. They have extended the curfew until 6 am tomorrow. Great. We are again stuck in the house forever.
The Risk we bought is fucking complicated. Or we are just so mind-numbingly dull that we can’t figure out the directions.
Heheheh… Pip is dreaming and running in his sleep. It’s funny to watch. If nothing else, the boys are comfortable. I wish I could sleep like they do.