Everyone looks forward to a long weekend. But Hurricane Frances redefined that phrase for me. It sure was a long weekend. But I didn’t get as stressed as I did last time. I’m not sure why, but even as Charley rushed Punta Gorda and headed for Daytona, I was certain the storm was going to turn toward Tampa. I only began to feel (mildly) relieved once the squall passed Lakeland. Unlike for Charley, I felt calm and in control during the entire Frances affair.
Some readers of Sticks were concerned – I hadn’t posted here from Friday until late Tuesday evening… First of all, I want to say thanks for your concern – it’s very humbling. Many people - folks I don’t even really know - voiced relief after I posted last night. Second, I and my immediate family are fine – great even. All tolled, the two hurricanes (thus far) only cost me about a week’s worth of pay, and 5 days of cabin fever. That’s not bad at all, considering what many of you are dealing with. What follows here is a summary of my events of the weekend. This will no doubt be boring for many of you, but I feel some sort of need to report it, if only for myself to read later. (i need to learn how to do that “for more click here—>>>” gimmick.)
Saturday began with making arrangements for Frances. Again the yard was cleared of all “potential missiles.” This time, Marci brought one kid. Around one in the afternoon, the first feeder band hit. The wind and rain was heavy, but brief. At 4:30 we got hit with the second band. This didn’t seem as severe, but lasted about an hour. Because of the mandatory evacuation for all “manufactured homes,” Aunt Joanie, Uncle Jim, Carol, and dog came over again – but at least they were expected. I had no drunked-up Carl this time. Grandpa and Grandma were again staying at their friend’s house. The evening brought overcast skies, a little rain, and increasing winds. Sometime overnight, the wind really picked up. I was awakened Sunday by the trees being whipped about. We turned on the TV to see the storm really hadn’t made much progress, but was slowly heading our way. As the day went on, the weather kept (as all the newsanchors like to say) deteriorating.
Late Sunday afternoon, Ray called to tell me that Johnny G’s lost power - the Labor Day Weekend Party would have to be postponed. Just after that, Jim got a call from Grandpa in Plant City – the carport attached to his mobile home had blown over onto his roof. Jim went to see if he could help secure it, but there was nothing that could be done, and it was beginning to get dark. And even though they had no power, Grandma and Grandpa intended on staying home that night. Thankfully, Jim talked them into coming over to my place instead. With a small shift in sleeping arrangements, this was easily accommodated.
Meanwhile, the water was rising at my back door. Actually it was the back door of the garage. Although my yard generally slopes from the back to the street out front, there’s a low area there where water collects by the side yard. The water covered the little slab there. A while later it was an inch & a half from the doorsill. A while after that it was a half-inch sly of the threshold. I tried digging a small trench to get the water to flow out to the street, but ran into roots, or concrete – hell, it might’a been pipes for all I know. Anyway, I didn’t want to f*ck anything up there, so I gave up on the ditch, and grabbed the water hose, started a siphon to the street, and got back in out of the rain, hoping that the small trickle of outflow would help somewhat.
Monday morning brought more nasty weather, although not quite as bad as it was on Sunday, and this time from the back side of the storm. The water level at my back door didn’t rise, but it didn’t fall, either – so far, so good. Jim & Grandpa again drove to Plant City to check on their homes. They found there was still no power (and therefore, no water), but Grandpa’s carport remained attached to the mobile home’s roof. Unfortunately, the roof was not still attached to the rest of the mobile home. It’s an overroof – I guess you can’t just re-shingle an old trailer, you have to cover the old with insulation (Styrofoam), and then cover that with an overroof – so you can’t see the sky from inside, but there screwholes and other small breaks in the old roof. Water spots were appearing on the ceiling inside, but nothing horribly serious had happened.
That afternoon Tom (he was working at the hospital the whole time) came by and picked up Marci and their kid. Wifey and I took a drive to McDonald’s (along with everyone else, it seemed), just to get out of the house for a minute. Jim and Grandpa picked up a few pizzas and brought them back. Everyone ate Domino’s, the weather continued to improve, and the teenager got invited to a no-school after hurricane party. By mid-afternoon, all visitors were gone, and I began the process of raking up the twigs & branches (the “potential missiles” will stay in the garage until Thanksgiving – I ain’t moving all that crap again). I never lost DirecTV, I never lost electric (TECO), the water never got in the garage, and my life was mostly back to normal Tuesday morning. But it was truly a long weekend.
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