6 posts tagged “gustav”

finally got around to pulling the photos off my camera's card.  Here's the photobucket album:

http://s137.photobucket.com/albums/q233/valnac/gustav%2008/?albumview=slideshow

This morning we hauled a bunch of branches and debris to the street.  Good timing, because a crew of bobcats and dumptrucks came through in the afternoon to load it all up and take it away.  There is still more to be done in the yard, but we have at least made a dent.

Still trying to get a tree crew to come to the property and assess our other issues.  Till then, we cannot fix the roof, and we cannot do anything about the ceiling or the floors till the roof no longer leaks.  *sigh*

kadang!  We are empowered and encabled here at the domus.  There were power company trucks all over the neighborhood yesterday, blocking off roads and making it hard to get around.  This morning, a cable truck drove between our house and the neighbor's to muck around with a transformer or something.  I kept telling myself that it was just a small sign that things might improve soon -- I didn't want to be let down thinking bigger thoughts.  But after dinner tonight, driving toward our subdivision, I said "The bowling alley has lights!  The street lights are on!  No crazy person would power their front door lamp with a generator!"  Lo and behold, the loveliness that is modern electric life.  The AC doesn't have to work TOO hard -- it's only 83 in here now.  The trees which are a bane to us during storms are a boon during the sunny summer days.

(The cable really shouldn't be on, since the line is almost dragging the ground, but K doesn't want to break our luck by calling it in yet.)

update from the electric company:

My neighborhood was one of the hardest hit areas of the city.  Consequently, the cleanup there will be most difficult, and they don't expect us to have power for at least two weeks. 

If you open this map (a pdf file) you'll see a big blob of orange (you cannot miss it).  That's us, and about 10000 of our neighbors.

This is another interesting map tool, provided by Entergy.  However, it will go out of date eventually, because it is frequently updated.

Louisiana was hit hard.  Baton Rouge was hit hard.  Our house was hit hard.

Monday was the weirdest day: the storm was almost all wind and hardly any rain.  I really wish it had been the other way.  We were sitting in the dining room, playing a board game when a tree branch crashed through the roof and holed the ceiling.  A piece of the ceiling actually hit me in the head, but thankfully did not draw blood.

Monday, K was able to get on the roof after the winds died down and tarp over the largest hole -- the one with the log sticking out of it -- to try to reduce rainfall into the kitchen.  The whole east side of the house is going to get a renovation, methinks.  Tuesday, K got on the roof again to put some shingles up on the other smaller holes, since we don't have a proper tarp, and none seemed to be forthcoming from the emergency services

According to the news -- which I'll admit is suspect given the lack of electricity and ability to fact-check at the moment -- FEMA staged the relief gear in Texas instead of in the direct path of the storm, where, you know, the winds might be the worst and damage greatest; but I digress.

Our power company is saying half of BR will get power within eight days.  The other half will be restored in 3-4 weeks.  Given that my employer has announced it will be closed this week and reopen on the eighth, we decided not to sit in the dark with rain coming in on our heads.  Wednesday we secured the house as best we could, asked a neighbor to check our mail if it ever resumes, packed the truck, doped the cat, and went north.

Getting out of our neighborhood was an adventure too.  Four times we had to turn around because of trees and debris across the road, once because power lines were blocking us.  Getting to the interstate to leave town took us an hour and a half instead of the 10 minutes we'd normally expect.  The interstates were all clear though a little rainy -- the cool air the rains brought was a pleasant relief.

We were northbound on I-55 in Mississippi, traveling from Hammond, LA to Jackson, MS.  Traffic for us was light, but in the southbound lanes traffic was solid the entire way.  Mayor Nagin in NOLA had announced the mandatory evacuation was being lifted at 12:00 AM Thursday, so I presume all those people were trying to get back to their homes to assess the damage, start cleaning up, and sit in the dark.

Our good friends L & J have taken us in, so we will have a nice mental health vacation before going back to deal with insurance and repair crews.  The adjustor is supposed to meet us Monday morning, the cable repair man is coming Monday morning, I go back to work (according to the website) on Monday.  And if the power isn't on for three weeks, I don't know what K will do for telecommuting, because I won't let him leave me alone in that dark house.

I have never been good at waiting.  Waiting for the storm that is inevitably going to flood the back yard is the worst.

We talked about getting out of town, but we have waffled on this, and ultimately waffled ourselves into staying.  Originally, I wanted to make a weekend trip out of it, and leave on Friday afternoon or evening, go to Knoxville and visit the in-laws for the long weekend.  K didn't want to go until Sunday -- when all the coastal evacuees are on the road too, and sucking dry all the gas stations along the way.

To calm my nerves, I called a friend of mine, a lifetime resident of these parts.  She assured me that she was not leaving, and never had from this area (although she had evacuated from Lake Charles before storms in other years). 

We emptied out the yard of objects, lest they become airborne.  We have closed all the storm windows and pulled the blinds.  We have not installed plywood, but we have no plate-glass windows, and none of the neighbors seem to have put any up either.  Candles, flashlights, matches, batteries, radios are all collected on the dining room table -- it's almost a certainty that we will lose power.  Right now the winds are calm and it is a fairly pleasant evening.

So there's nothing else to do but think about what else we could have done; how we should have measured the windows weeks ago and gotten plywood just in case; worry about what may yet happen, and try to imagine what we'll do if a branch does shoot through our living room window; think ahead to the long days without electricity during the cleanup; try to convince ourselves that it will turn out okay, just like years previous.