"like being in a blender"

That's how one of my co-workers described the sensation of watching hurricane Wilma from half-boarded windows.

Thanks, we're okay.

Yeah, it was worse than predicted but crossing the warm Gulf of Mexico is enough to get one's blood up.

Floridians are tougher now, wiser.

Gas lines. Emptying grocery stores.  An all-day parade of people in line for ice and whatever food there is from the National Guard.  Communication fiascoes. 

It feels like a miracle to be typing into my journal.

I'll be out of my trailer for a while.  Wilma walloped my water system and ate my awnings.  She made the carpet damp but not squishy.

My landlord came over and took out what was left of the shed, all but one of my trees and cranked off one of the majestic arms of my shady oak AND threw out my faithful, innocuous leafy plant that's been valiantly growing for six years AND my lily AND the humongous staghorn fern which was probably worth thousands.  Alas, alas.  Gonna do that might as well put in astroturf.   That might be the worst of it all for me.

The door switch on my car started beeping when the door was open.  Because of that, I wore out my battery leaving the lights on.  I had to get a new battery.  Replacing the battery triggered the car alarm to go off again.  My remote fobs for the alarm were bad which led to me getting my car alarm pulled. That adventure led the alarm tech to discover exposed wire which would have created one charred AOL blogger. (I didn't mention the tow truck driver.  Here's to him, and the battery guy and the alarm guy.)

You never know where your blessings are hidden. 

 

Now if I can only reach my Em.