School's Out!!!!

Yep, it's out before it's even in!!

Classes have been delayed a full week because of Hurricane Irene, until after Labor Day.

Sis and Bud are thrilled--an extra week of summer is like an early Christmas present to them.

Are first graders supposed to be that jaded about school already??!!

But at least we know. Canceling class day by day was stressing us all out.

Now we'll have time to squeeze in all the activities we didn't do because we were preparing for and living through a hurricane.

Scrappy Kids

Perhaps I should say "scrapping." Because the family has a new activity: scrapbooking!

Mama is actually the force behind this, my having abandoned scrapbooking our lives a few years back when overwhelmed with the paper detritus I was saving but never getting to. She had come across two scrapbooks we made of our swazus from Chicago--to Door County and the Lighthouse Walk, to the Indigo Girls at Ravinia, to Galena, to Michigan City Light, and more--and we enjoyed looking at them.

And so, in advance of our NYC mini-vacation, we all went to the craft store and bought a scrapbook, a few packs of NYC stickers, some colored stock paper, and some double-sided tape. While in NYC, we all were on the lookout for pamphlets, postcards, menus, and other material we could use, coming home with a fair bagful of things.

Yesterday, we spread all the material out, clipped and cut, sorted and selected, and finally laid out all the special pieces to work on the layout. We chose to do the Harry Potter exhibition pages first, using the red and yellow of Gryffindor as our paper. We included our family photo in front of Hogwarts, pamphlet photos, illustrations cut out from the shop bag, a postcard, and some Hogwarts stickers they sold in the shop, with everyone taking a turn taping stuff down and distributing stickers. It looks really good. Mama's going to write a blurb documenting the experience from each family member in the spaces.

We'll do the rest of the NYC pages another day. And even more after our next interesting activity.

Though, Bud said we should "scrap" our perfect potholder in memory of the hurricane! But I have it hanging on the kitchen wall.

From Irene: Lessons Learned

I'm wrapping up my live blogging on the hurricane now that our lives have mostly returned to pre-hurricane activity. However, I hold all those still suffering and struggling with the effects of the storm in my heart, especially those upstate New Yorkers and Vermonters who were hit so hard (like my blog friend Karen).

Still, I want to summarize some of the practical and philosophical lessons learned this weekend:

• Top 5 Things We Were Glad We Had: flashlights, corded phone, water, wipes/sanitizing gel, something new and distracting for the kids to do (weaving potholders! Legos!).
• Plus: we realized that the best food to have on hand was bread, with honey, nutella, pb & j, the cheese before it went bad. We could have lasted a long time with just a few loaves of bread.
• Back to that "old-fashioned" phone which fascinated the kids with its cord and lack of "speaker" function. It was funny to hold a cradle phone and walk around with a cord winding around my feet. Took me back to 8th grade, when I spent a lot of time on the phone. Except back then, I didn't forget what that little switch on the cradle meant and toggle it when I talked. I accidentally hung up on Gommie!
• I was again reminded of the importance of friends and neighbors for help, information, a sense of safety in that we knew they would come to our aid if we needed it. And vice versa, of course, which is also a good feeling to know that you can help others.
• But I also realized how isolated you can feel cut off from the larger world. We are usually so interconnected via technology. It felt strange and small to just be us in our house. I relied on neighbors (and their rumors) for information about our town and only got information about the whole effect of the storm from Gommie and Pop who were watching it in Texas (thanks to technology, of course). Oddly, I was a bit sad when power came back on. And I think I liked the closeness we had, the togetherness. Not that we aren't usually pretty cohesive, but this was different, special. However, I'll see if we can repeat it without a major natural disaster. (Also, it was very strange to plug back in and see the world had gone on without us and our hurricane. We were so absorbed in it that it was odd suddenly to see that life continued along outside of Irene.)
• I think it was important for the kids to have the "hurricane experience," in a way. Not because the hurricane itself is so important but knowing they can endure and survive something unexpected and challenging, something outside their control, and adapt, gives them confidence, allays fears, provides a sense of empathy for the hardships that much of the world experiences. Blizzards are different--less immediately frightening and threatening, fun in their way, pretty even, and usually not nearly as devastating or tragic.
• Being over-prepared gave me confidence during the storm (and that confidence allowed me to stay calm). In fact, I wouldn't say we were over-prepared, in that we needed almost everything we prepped, from water to non-perishable foods to batteries. We didn't need our "to-go" bag or valuables or, thankfully, first aid kit, but I don't regret organizing them.
• Speaking of valuables, it's interesting to do that walk-through of your house and actually pull out what you'd want to save. We had Bud's kung fu trophy and medals, Sis's medals, their special critters (Mr. Big, Amy, and Shirt), their baby books, my baby book, some pre-digital pictures of me and Mama in our pre-parent days, Morgan's ashes, our civil union photo (which I like better than our wedding photo), Mama's photos of her parents' wedding, the "first year" frames of both kiddos, my keepsake recipe binder of handprinted family recipes, Mama's childhood stuffed animals, my Amish doll, my treasure box (with their hospital caps, my mosaic fragment, and other little things), and our computers and harddrives. What a strange mix.
• Usually, Mama Hungry and I do our best to optimize and maximize every situation, to make it the best we can, to get the most out of it, to be prepared, organized, and efficient (okay, in everything but the organization of our house, but more on that later). And we did that in our preparations, but otherwise, we just had to take the storm as it came and make do; we weren't in control (though, I know we never really are in control, really, but usually the facade of control is there). It was an interesting situation. Though, I suppose, in many ways, we still tried to make the most of the experience, in the sense of using it as a teachable moment about weather, disasters, history, as well as quality family time. Except we never did grill--just too tired. I'll have to ponder our need for optimization further.
• My childhood memories of storms and nightmares since then are very powerful. I remembered that funny butterflies-in-my-stomach feeling when the storm comes in, the excitement of being without power (I liked it as a kid, well, once the actual storm was over), the scary howl of wind that shakes the house, bends the trees, and makes unseen crashing sounds around you, even the hurricane parties of my parents repeated by my neighbors. I never thought I'd go through that again, but it was actually okay. (Now earthquakes are a totally different story . . . .)
• I learned some practical things about food: apparently, most things in the fridge aren't good after 4-6 hours, especially the milk products and cooked foods, if the fridge reaches over 40F, but uncut fruits and vegetables, as well as hard cheeses, are usually okay, as are condiments with vinegar--but not mayonnaise!--and jams/jellies with sugar; also, things in the freezer last 24-48 hours depending on how full the freezer is (the fuller the better, which is why it's good to fill the freezer with bags of water/ice before the storm hits) and the food is good if ice crystals are still visible and thawing hasn't occurred. When in doubt, though, throw it out!
• Note: apparently, if you don't have flashlights, solar-powered yard lamps work. And so they were selling out fast at Home Depot before the storm.
• Finally, I was grateful that we have the resources to make it through a storm, the money and the flexibility from work to buy and do what we need to. I can clearly see how class lines determine a person's experience of (and even survival of) a storm, having, of course, witnessed such a thing with Hurricane Katrina but now also living it. I recognize our privilege, as I've discussed before, but I saw it even more this weekend.

In the end, though, I'm glad it's over.

From Irene: We'll Leave the Light on for You!

Because we got power back about an hour ago!

And how did we celebrate? By going outside! Where Bud did cartwheels and Sis ran obstacle courses.

Funny, in a weird way, I'm sorry our little break from the normal, plugged-in world is over. But only sorta.....

From Irene: The Perfect Potholder

I see it as a reassuring symbol of our family and how we both literally and figuratively weather storms together.

From Irene: Thank You

To Mama Teacher, for the warm shower, cold drink, and cell phone charge (we still don't have power--up to 7-10 days, though the water is okay now, just not heated);

To friends in town, for keeping me updated on town damage, school cancellations, and also offers of help (we'll be at your house tomorrow!);

To Gommie and Pop, Ma and Gong, Goo, and Cousin Susan for emailing and/or calling to check on us.

We are so grateful for your care and help!

From Irene: Spoiled

We've been almost 24 hours without power, which means we're grilling today! And then tossing the contents of our fridge.

Also still no use of the tap.

And probably delays of the first day of school.

Bud says, "Hurricanes are terrifying.". He changed his mind to "terrible."

He's right on both counts, of course, but not so much in our case.

But now they're playing, so everything is fine again.

From Irene: It's Not Over Yet

The wind picked up in gusts so the kids are camping out downstairs again.

We might not have power for 7-10 days.

And now we don't have water, at least we're not supposed to use the tap. Thankfully, we have bathtubs, buckets, and gallons of it.

It feels almost like fall with the windows open.

Gotta keep looking on the bright side. It could have been terrible.

Goodnight, Irene

The storm is over, with a cool breeze gently blowing.  The overcast sky doesn't reveal dusk but light is fading as the kids rush to finish the Hogwarts Express Lego.  They built it while munching on Jelly Bellies, a.k.a. Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.  Bud liked most of them, except licorice; Sis did not, even the chocolate one.  My neighbors, celebrating the end of the storm with pitchers of margaritas, have finally retired, after giving me some mostly encouraging updates from town.  Mama and I ate pb&j for dinner (and felt like kids again!), while the kids had fruit salad, neither of which evoked the life in "olden days" that we were discussing.  We're hearing that many of our friends and their homes are safe.  We are lucky in so many ways.

From Irene: Good News

My in-laws house off the beach in the Rockaways, NYC, is undamaged.  They're home now but don't have power.  What a relief!

From Irene: Watch Cat

From Irene: Brightness

Still no power, but there is a diffuse light that looks almost like sunshine compared to this morning's darkness.  The wind is sporadically gusty, but only just.  People are driving around, walking, gathering, but we are staying inside.  We don't really know how town has fared except by the complete absence of emergency sirens.  We're on the first floor now, playing games, finishing our potholder, doing another Lego set.  It's our own kind of Sabbath rest.  Not a bad thing I'm and of itself, though we would've enjoyed it more without the hurricane.  (Though, the kids prefer "life in a basement" to "life in a bed!")

From Irene: Darkness

We just lost power.
We're in the basement for the duration, listening to Broadway tunes, playing Legos, and doing a new woven potholder project, safe from wind and all our windows.
Turning off my Droid--yes, it came back to life after its swim--to conserve battery.  Our coded phone is now plugged in.

From Irene: All Awake

We're all awake.  We haven't lost power and are considering a big cooked breakfast.  A huge tree went down in the cul-de-sac, missing all houses and cars.  A huge digger just pushed it out of the road.  The kids missed it and are happily playing in the basement.  They slept well and don't seem perturbed, even by all the little limbs down, leaves plastered to our windows, and power blinks.  We're apparently on the windy side of the storm; there is hard rain, too, but the sandbags are protecting our driveway.

From Irene: Bedtime

The kids are finally quiet downstairs on their sleeping bag pallets. We opted for downstairs because there is more space than in our room. Besides, if we have to move into the basement, which isn't comfortable for sleeping at all, it's easier from the first floor.

Mama and I are upstairs watching tv and reading computer maps. NYC sounds like a mutant version of itself--no trains, planes, and perhaps later even automobiles (I've heard they're considering ordering cabs off the streets). Here in CT, they've discussed closing all the highways, specifically the Merritt/Wilbur Cross with all its lovely and now menacing trees, and told people not to go out after dark. Otherwise, our governor seems rather . . . amateur. Or perhaps it's the individual character of the state with each town taking charge of preparations and decisions and the governor just saying (I paraphrase) "uh, evacuate if, um, your area has ever flooded." Right. You know, the last time we had a category 1 hurricane, because of course, you were living in the same place, right? Useless. At least our mayor seems on top of things. And we feel relatively safe in that respect, with the town shelter less than a mile away. We're absolutely expecting downed trees and power outtage and localized flooding (though we're relatively high).

Okay, I can't think of anything else to tell. Mama now has cellular service on her iPad so that if we lose power and wireless we might still be able to email through it. Which means I can blog on . . . .

Until then, wishing the East Coast the best possible outcome this weekend. Stay safe, my friends.

From Irene: She's Here!

Just the tendrils, mind you. But the sky turned dark and the rain really started. There's some breeze but not what I'd call wind. I imagine the wind and rain will come and go for a few more hours until we're in the thick of it late tonight.

Note to family: we already seem to be having some telephone static, to the point that we can't really hear, even on our regular wireless land-line phones. We're switching to an "old-fashioned" corded phone soon.

Live Blogging the Hurricane

Good afternoon from overcast, drizzly coastal Connecticut!

We've spent the last 24 hours doing everything we can think of to prepare for this storm. From health certificates for the cats in case we end up in a shelter to putting all of our important documents in plastic, from cleaning out our gutters to straightening up the basement, from charging all of our mobile electronics to unplugging all of the others and buying a land-line phone in case everything fails, from putting our grill and charcoal on the enclosed front porch for later to putting everything else from outside in the garage. At one point, Mama and the kids, with neighbor Mr. D's help, even moved the little plastic playhouse, jimmying it from side to side to move . . . and I couldn't resist singing the Wicked Witch of the West's theme from Wizard of Oz! We've chatted with all our neighbors and know who has a generator and who has a gas stove; all of them are staying put. Mama has sandbagged our driveway and our basement door and window to prevent the rain from pouring down the hill into our driveway and then into our house. We even made a last minute ice and Starbucks run this morning! Now we're finishing lunch, watching a movie (gotta enjoy the power while it lasts--the electric company thinks we'll be out of power for 2-7 days), consolidating all of our emergency supplies, packing to-go bags, putting our top ten valuables in a tub. Overreaction? Maybe. But I don't care. The current weather report has the storm making landfall not far from here, bringing 7+" of rain (on top of all the other inches we've gotten this month) and strong winds up to 70 mph, all lasting about 21 hours as the storm sits on top of us. I'd rather be over safe than extra sorry.

And we're not alone--a neighbor up the street has also sandbagged his house, having the same trouble as we do with hill run-off, and our next-door neighbor who has been here since the 1938 storm, I'd swear, had a tall sickly pine tree that hovered over both of our houses cut down this morning! Also, Mama's parents have been ordered to evacuate from the Rockaways--they've sandbagged their own house and moved safely into Queens with Goo. We're glad they're in a safer place but know it's stressful to be evacuated.

We're going to hang out the rest of the day, finishing our list of things while the kids play with the sticker and Lego sets they got on our outing this morning. They'll sleep in our room tonight, away from the giant tree, and Mama and I will somehow sleep while keeping an eye on the storm, which will really start whipping up here around 9 pm, as the current forecast goes. We're most scared of tornadoes and will have the basement ready if we need to move down there (and I mean ready: my great outdoor bench is there so I have a place to recline and there is now a little carpet to walk on too, plus our emergency kit, cat supplies, extra bedding, food, etc etc)

As I told Pop last night, I've had tornado/hurricane nightmares about once a month for as long as I can remember, really the only kind of nightmare I ever have. Must be all those tornado drills we had in school and the few hurricanes that came close to Houston when I was a kid: Alicia, that ripped up downtown and pummeled my grandparents in Galveston, in 1983, or maybe Allen in 1980 (see here for a history of hurricanes in Texas in the 20th century). Plus other storms that caused localized flooding, power outages, nearby tornadoes, and such. (Much less all the ones that have hit since I left--like Rita and Ike--creating long-distance worry.) Boy, could my folks and neighbors throw a pre-hurricane party! And I think they got some practice . . . I remember opening the windows in the false belief that you could equalize pressure and save your house. Dad even told me he remembered a storm eye passing over us and he went out despite all warnings to the contrary. Maybe that's the storm for which I packed my stuffed animals in the car and hid in the bathroom. So it's an odd sensation to be preparing for what I've only dreamed about. No doubt that doesn't help. Or it does, in a way, because we're doing all we can.

I'll blog when I can, though I hope there isn't anything to tell.

Best Hurricane Advice

As overheard . . . .

"If a Weather Channel reporter shows up in your town, leave.

If it's Jim Cantore, leave fast."

Laughing Instead of Crying

Bless children, they can be so oblivious sometimes. Luckily, today was one of those days. While I was fielding phone calls and checking forecasts, making lists and checking them twice, the kids played and played and played. They know we're having a storm, with rain and wind, though we haven't called it a hurricane around them. But they are singularly unperturbed. I envy the innocence.

And so several times throughout the day, I joined in. We played Harry Potter. A lot. Inside and outside. Sis is Harry. Bud is Hermione. And I vacillate between Hagrid and Ron. We shop on Diagon Alley, ride the Hogwarts Express, practice potions, and play Quidditch.

Later, they did a long dance and dramatic arts performance for me, complete with multiple costume changes, as well as a multi-verse original song accompanied by bongos that goes something like "Something or that,/Something or that/There's a monster with a towel on its head." The last line changes. And no, I'm not sure exactly what it means.

So, thanks to them, we laughed instead of getting stressful and had a good day despite the storm both literally and figuratively swirling around. I hope we can all continue in that light the rest of the weekend.

Good luck, East Coast! I'll blog when I can, depending on power, batteries, and network connection. And of course, Harry Potter playtime . . . .

Our Friend, Hopefully Not Our Enemy