Going with the...Flo (Ha! Sorry...)

Here it is, mid-September, and subtle signs of Fall are starting to pop up all around us. From pumpkin spice everything, to the slightly shorter daylight hours, to the overly eager homeowners who have chosen to display their Halloween decorations (and I mean, already? C'mon, folks, the unspoken but generally agreed-upon rule is that we wait until October 1st, 'kay?), people are clearly ready to move on from Summer.

One thing that refuses to give up, though, is the oppressive humidity, which continues to feel like an unwelcome wet blanket whenever you venture outside. And then to add to the weather...excitement...this week we were suddenly warned about a dangerous, destructive guest who might be showing up on our collective doorstep--of course I'm talking about delightful Hurricane Florence.

Looking back, it seems like the forecasters went ballistic on this one right out of the gate. They started with severe warnings, and worked their way right up to "dire" in short order. Granted...the models that I came across on the Internet did show an eerily amoeba-shaped storm, whose imaginary face appeared to be...well, eating the Carolinas. (I swear, it was like some kind of...twisted cartoon horror meme, I tell ya.) People began throwing around words like "catastrophic flooding" and "devastating damage", and frankly, everyone got very freaked out, extremely quickly.

This led to the predictable but annoying phenomenon we'll call Pre-Precipitation Panic, as folks flocked to grocery, drug, and hardware stores and cleaned them out of bottled water, flashlights, batteries...and anything else on the "recommended emergency supplies" list. Siting back and observing all the mayhem, at first I just shook my head and took a laid-back approach--I figured, hey, we're at least 2-1/2 HOURS inland, so how bad could it realistically get around here, anyway?

But then stories bubbled to the surface, told by residents who'd been here the last time something like this went down...and the news was not pretty. They described floodwaters whisking away everything in their path, and powerful winds toppling trees and flinging stuff around with abandon. But most of all, they spoke of the electrical outages that lasted weeks, rather than hours or even days. Gulp. Okay, this got my full and undivided attention, and caused me to jump into the fray...of citizens who were taking this 100% seriously.

So I dutifully took stock of what survival necessities we had on hand--and those that we still lacked--and set out to fill in the gaps. Yeeaaah...about that...let's just say I found myself waaayyyy behind on the whole "preparing for a natural disaster" curve. As in "bare shelves" wherever I turned, to the point that it became less about getting ready for the storm, and more about "Dang it, you know better--why didn't you think about this sooner?"

I forget which day it was that the situation devolved into text exchanges between Husband and me, to the tune of, "Checked Harris Teeter, CVS, and Food Lion...no luck. You?" "I'll try Lowe's and Walgreen's again. Fingers crossed." I was convinced that we should have some of that elusive, precious bottled water in our pantry...because I was laboring under the misconception that if the power goes out, you lose the agua as well. Fortunately, in the meantime it dawned on me that I ought to follow the official Twitter feeds of the local governments, and in doing so I learned that--while you may have to do it in the dark--you can still wash and flush and drink, as long as the treatment plant and the pipes remain in good working order. Phew! I can't tell you what a ginormous load off my mind this was.

Of course, after a couple of days had passed, and some of the pandemonium had died down (or all the First Wave Peppers had obtained their apocalypse stash) the rest of us were able to take advantage of the replenished stores and get what we needed as well. (Which is why we now have more flashlights in the house than we have people...and no one will ever have to pee in a pitch-black bathroom...as it should be...)

From there, it kind of turned into a series of silly scenarios--such as me running out to the supermarket on a daily basis, to get a litany of...increasingly ridiculous items. For example: "Ooh, we must have 3 packs of biodegradable baby wipes, in case we can't bathe...for, like, a week!" And also "What if there's nothing I can eat in the house, and the supermarkets are all closed? I know, I'll get sweet potato chips, and popcorn, and...chocolate!" (I assure you that it made perfect sense to me at the time. I was clearly suffering from adrenaline overload and pre-hurricane brain, after several days of operating under heightened stress and climate-fueled anxiety...or whatever...) Every day something else occurred to me, that we absolutely, undeniably, Must. Obtain. Immediately. It was flippin' exhausting, y'all.

Then, wouldn't you know it, as the countdown to landfall kicked off in earnest, Fickle Flo couldn't make up her damn mind. She turned slightly south, and the other Carolina ratcheted back into high alert mode. But wait--now she's veering back northward, and they might get...nothing! Yikes. Keeping tabs on the Weather Channel (as everyone was pretty much obsessively doing by now) was like watching a particularly diabolical game of...atmospheric "chicken".

Here in the good old Triangle, we could get 40 inches of rain accompanied by 100+ mph gales--figures which boggle the mind, to say the least. Or, you know, a couple of sprinkles...and maybe a stiff breeze. (Meteorologists: can't live with 'em...can't throw 'em into the path of an oncoming tornado...No, no, no--I'm just kidding, I promise!)

In Columbia, SC, where Derek's hunkered down to wait out Mother Nature's tantrum, the university--in what seems to me to be an excess of caution--cancelled classes starting on Tuesday...and continuing through next Monday. (By the way, I spoke with him tonight, and he reports that he hasn't seen so much as a drop of moisture from the sky yet. So. How 'bout that semester, yeah? Siiighhhh...) Our own school system erred on the side of...believing the worst...and also shut down both Thursday and Friday...aaannnnd was also rewarded with dry skies. In fact, so far--and I'm not trying to jinx anything, trust me--we've experienced regular old seasonal thunderstorms more potent than this.

So while I appreciate the crash course in "last-minute storm stockpiling", (Memo to Me: Never, NEVER to be repeated. From now on, get your act together well before anyone mentions the H-word, do you hear me?) I'm even more grateful for the fact that Flo merely sideswiped us. Because I've seen videos of what's happening on the coast, and it's every bit as deadly and terrifying as they thought it would be. So we seem to have dodged the proverbial bullet on this one, and I'm feeling both massively lucky...and relieved.

Plus, now I have a stack of fresh library books, abundant storm-snacks (which one may consume guilt-free, due to the herculean effort expended in procuring them)...and a tank full of gasoline--for when I get super-bored of being in the house, and need to escape. (I give it a couple more hours...see ya on the flip side!)