I am staring at the three storm sites, flipping back and forth trying to find the latest information about IDA. Memories of how quickly Wilma intensified are not buried that deeply, and I am frustrated. I keep expecting to flip to a screen and find the storm no longer on track to hit us. Not that I wish it on anyone else, but geez - I'm not there to help prepare.
I think it's hard for anyone who has never done hurricane preparations to realize just how much work it is to prepare. It's not just boarding up, which in itself is a huge chore. It's bringing in planters and patio furniture, tracking a mess all through the house with water and dirt. It's making sure there is water stored, and food supplies for humans and pets. It's moving anything that can be damaged by water up off the floors. It's trying to keep the outdoor pets close to home so they will be inside during the brunt of the storm. I remember the night before Wilma hit; Loco, who was free to roam in those days, took off down the road and was gone until 1 am. I was frantic until he came back, and he got the leash treatment for the next few hours until we were confined to the indoors.
Miguel has two properties to deal with. He's just one person, anyone who might help him will be busy with their own preparations. I wish I could be there to do the 'bringing' in part, and the food part. Miguel is philosophical - it doesn't matter what gets damaged, it's life that is important. Of course he's right, but I like to think we can protect it all.
But I'm not there to help. I'm supposed to land in Cancun tomorrow at 12:45. I'm betting the flight will be canceled. So here I sit, worried and hoping, knowing there is a hurricane on its way and hoping it will not be a strong one. No matter how hard I try to wish it away, or how many times I change weather stations, that storm is still pointing in our direction. Nuts!