Storms, horses and squirrels

                Evacuations for Hurricane Florence are massive, and predictions frightening. I have good friends whose relatives are in the hospitality industry in the Outer Banks, and my friends are biting their nails, worried to the point of distraction. I too am worried about the thousands of people who will have to be moved. Every year these mass evacuations cause accidents and problems not directly related to the storms. And the storm damage—it can take years for an area to recover. So please join me in praying for those in the storm’s path.

And that includes animals Did you read the Misty of Chincoteague books as a child, about the wonderful wild horses of the Outer Banks? Things has changed since that day, and the horses have moved and changed, but they’re still there. I read today that they will be turned loose on their island—most are still so wild they would harm themselves if confined to a stall or barn during a wild storm. The horse caretakers all live on a farm near the horses favored habitat—a skeleton crew will stay, and the animals will have shelter but will also be free to roam. One person familiar with them said the horses know the places to go to be safe. One hopes—for the horses and for their caretakers.

If horses know about nature and weather changes, why not squirrels? A Facebook friend wrote that his facial hair always grows thicker as fall approaches. Someone else compared him to the squirrels, whose coats thicken. I have noticed bushier tails on squirrels lately. One afternoon I looked out at a tree and saw this strange creature hanging from a tree—like a hairy snake. Turns out it was an unusually long and furry tail on a squirrel—the actual critter was on the other side of the tree trunk and all I could see was that long tail.

I admit to being a bit like the squirrels. A sweater has felt good the last few mornings. It does help when the plumber tells you how good you look. My cottage obviously only has one commode, so when it isn’t usable, it’s a crisis of sorts. I called the plumbing company this morning, and they sent the man who has taken care of my house for years. I was not quite ready for company—no makeup, hair pretty rough—and he insisted I looked good. Then he confirmed it: ”There was a time or two there where I was really worried about you.” That elevated his compliment beyond mere words and made my day.

No patience for computer woes

I woke up this morning prepared to stare at the TV and the hurricane devastation. I was not prepared for the computer troubles that descended on me. Actually, they began yesterday when Microsoft suddenly declared my Office subscription had expire.s—you’d think they’d give you a little warning. That froze Word and Outlook, two programs without which I cannot operate. I thought I had solved it—used my credit card to renew, but every time I tried to open either program I got the same reactivate message.

This I bungled through, going to whatever web sites I was directed to, changing passwords so often that I am hopelessly confused. Finally, I “chatted” with a tech who informed me the payment had not gone through—no idea whose fault that was. I asked if she would guarantee me a refund if I paid again and it turned out I was double charged. She promised—how much authority do you think she has?

After about two hours, I seemed to have it straightened out, and I could access Word. Outlook no longer gave me the reactivate message, but it wouldn’t download messages which I knew from my iPhone were waiting. Why does Outlook still work on my phone but not my computer—another puzzlement. This time, I ended up, I’m not sure how, talking live to a woman with a heavy accent. By now I was out of patience and not as polite as I usually like to think I am. I asked for a native English speaker; she sounded offended and promised to talk slowly, which of course she forgot in the heat of conversation.

Picture this: technologically challenged, hearing challenged me trying oh so hard to understand a woman speaking rapid, heavily accented English (either Philippines or India, I’m not sure which). It was getting us nowhere very slowly, and what patience I had left was ebbing. We made a little progress, and she assured me everything was all right; I assured her it wasn’t because the program wasn’t downloading messages. Finally, I gave up. I tried to be polite about having taken too much of her time, but she said oh no, she could spend more time. I couldn’t, and I said a firm thank you and goodbye.

Then it dawned on me in my willy-nilly changing of passwords I had probably changed the TCU password ineffectively and I wasn’t sure what the old one was because I’d already corrected the file. So I went into the TCU Password site, made the change, and lo and behold! It worked. It was now 12:30—a whole morning gone.

I caught up with myself, roughed out a guest blog, picked out a passage to read on a radio interview and practiced it, wrote a review on Amazon of the book I just finished—Marry in Haste, by Susan Van Kirk (I really liked the way she wove history into a contemporary mystery). Napped—needed it by then. Fixed BLT sandwiches for me and Jacob. And there went the rest of the day

Jacob’s parents have been in Missouri for a wedding, but we were both glad to welcome them home tonight. I did enjoy however having that sweet boy sleep on my couch. I am often sad that he’s past that wonderfully cuddly young boy stage—too much a young man these days.

My goof: somehow in last night’s blog I called the storm José Jake—must have been thinking of Jacob, who hates to be called Jake.

Tomorrow is Monday, and I am ready for a clean slate, a fresh start to a new week.

Please keep Houston and the surrounding area in your prayers, as well as all of the southeastern states. For too many of those people the dramatic moments are over or nearly so, but I fear the worst is to come. TV people will pack up their cameras, the devastation will fade from the news, but untold thousands will be dealing with recovery for months, perhaps a lifetime. Pray God’s comfort for them.

Living in the other part of Texas

For many of us living in North Texas, it’s easy to feel irrelevant these days. The nation’s attention, indeed the world’s attention, is rightfully focused on the monumental tragedy unfolding in southeast Texas—loss of life, devastation of entire towns, a disastrous economic future for an area heavy reliant on tourism, irreparable damage to the infrastructure. Most of us in North Texas have now convinced family and friends that we are not in danger, that Houston is a long way from the Metroplex. So we sit, watch TV, wring our hands, and wonder what we can do.

Donations are welcome by more agencies than we can count. Probably most are legitimate, but there are scams by people willing to turn a tragedy to their own personal profit. Pretty scary. We’re safe to go with the “biggies”—the Red Cross or the Salvation Army, but I am leery of what percentage of donations to the first actually go to help victims and, with the second, can you earmark the money for Houston? There are parts of the work of the Salvation Army I don’t particularly want to support.

Personally, I’m thinking of a donation to an animal rescue agency. One of the most pitiful pictures I saw was a dog that had been chained to a tree, ostensibly so it wouldn’t wander away. Only its head was above water and, given the steady rise, it would soon drown (that there was a photographer there means the dog was rescued).

If tragedy brings out the worst in a few of us, it brings out the best in most. Countless pictures show volunteers rescuing people. One video that particularly struck me showed a man crying as he helped rescue an elderly resident of Dickinson from waist-deep water in his home. The elderly man was so frail he had to be hoisted into the rescue truck.

I’ve heard of people hitching up their boats and heading to Houston to be part of the rescue effort, which is admirable but I’m not sure Houston authorities want or are ready for a lot of untrained volunteers. Who would coordinate? It’s the opposite of the evacuation problem—instead of getting people out of Houston, the rescue effort might add them.

Ah, evacuation. Lots of hindsight authorities want to know why a mass evacuation wasn’t ordered? Think of the logistics of emptying a city of two-and-a-half millionousthous

, and remember the exodus under the threat of Hurricane Rita. I believe over a hundred died on the road—accidents, heat exhaustion, stalled cars, etc. We trust that those in charge studied the situation and made the best decisions they couold.

Kudos to my daughter-in-law, Melanie in Frisco. She is organizing a work day for the entire staff of her company. They will sort and package supplies for shipment to the Houston area from a local shelter. That’s called putting your money where your mouth is.

This whole tragedy has one major positive element, just as the Charlottesville riot did: Americans have demonstrated that we are a caring, loving people, that we can come together when needed. A lot of forces are working to divide us into various groups usually motivated by hate. The tragedy of Harvey unites us because we very much care about our fellow man.

If, like me, you can do no more than send a check, please do it today and be as generous as you can.

Rain, food, and things I didn’t sign on for as a mother

One of those almost-rainy, dull Saturdays when you stay home alone all day and try not to feel sorry for yourself. My solution was to read, and I spent much of the day finishing The Velveteen Daughter, which I am to review for Story Circle Network. I even roughed out the review. But that historical novel is not light reading and didn’t do much to lighten my mood

My kids are in their forties, and I should not be worrying about them. But I am. One is periodically hiding in a closet with his family in Tomball because they get one tornado warning after another. Spinoffs from Hurricane Harvey. Another in Austin said this morning it’s just an ordinary rainstorm, but I’m afraid she’s in for a rude awakening. The third is with his family in Boulder, delivering the oldest daughter to college—surely a bittersweet moment for that close family. And the local one? She woke with a splitting sinus headache. I guess Harvey gets all of us one way or another, though we’ve had only one brief sprinkle of rain.

I did keep one eye on the TV (with the sound muted) for hurricane reports and watched the national news avidly. The devastation from landfall is awful, but they say the worst is yet to come—flooding over the next few days as Harvey lingers almost in place and dumps inches and inches of rain. I think of the Tomball kids again, with a stable next door that becomes a sea of mud, with a lot of horse poop in it. And the snakes that may come sliding out of their small lake. Of course, being a mother, my mind can go quickly to the worst-case scenario, for which Colin would scorn me.

Cooking always brightens my day, so I made myself a new recipe for supper. A baked egg on a bed of toast, spinach, crumbled bacon, and thin slices of cheese. Think of it--all the food groups at once. Drizzled a little cream over the top because the original recipe said to do that, but I’m not sure what good it did. With a single burner kitchen, I had to cook dinner in several steps—make the toast, sauté the bacon that I’d already diced rather than trying to crumble after it cooked—that doesn’t work well for me because bacon doesn’t cook evenly. Then I sautéed the spinach ever so quickly in a tiny bit of bacon grease, and assembled the whole thing in a ramekin. I had to finish with the hot plate before I could turn on the toaster-oven to heat 400, but that gave me time to do some dishes and put away food. When the oven was 400, I put my dinner in for 15 minutes—perfection! The egg white was set nicely but the yolk still runny.

If I ever do a cookbook I will emphasize that some of the recipes must be done with a love of cooking, because they are neither quick nor easy. But for me it was fun, and the result was scrumptious. I had found a recipe, but the cheese was my addition, as was the substitution of a half slice of sourdough toast, well buttered, for an English muffin. And I had to reduce the recipe to serve one instead of four, but by now that’s old hat.

Now what to do with the rest of my evening? Read, that’s what. When I was deep in the review book, which did call me back with a siren call, I occasionally felt I had to escape from that intense world to a cozy mystery. Now I’m free to read that cozy without interruption.

Hurricanes and not much else

This is me, checking in to say I have nothing to say. A pleasant but not essentially outstanding day. We got our daily dose of rain this morning, but it was light and didn’t last long. Teddy and I walked, and since the weather was cooler, I did better, but everything makes me breathless. The cure of course is to keep doing it, until I build up my endurance again. After I took a shower this afternoon, Jordan asked why I was out of breath, and all I could say was exertion. I didn’t even realize I was a bit breathless. I don’t think the house exercises I do make me out of breath, but I’ll start paying more attention.

My most unusual accomplishment for the day: have you ever tried mopping a floor while seated in a Rollator (rolling walker, which you are not supposed to sit in while it’s moving, but I do). I can’t mop the floor with the wet Swiffer pads—they have chemicals not good for my wood floors. Felt very clever when I dampened paper towels, attached them to the Swiffer mop, and got up all those muddy paw prints. Half an hour later, there were more prints, not as pronounced, but still mud. With this rain, Sophie brings half the outdoors inside. My newly cleaned rug is filthy. Need to get that ground cover in place.

Nice lunch with friend Jean today. We wanted to go to Carshon’s but were running late and there was no parking by the time we got there—which meant the restaurant would be crowded and noisy. We went to Chadra and had salads—gyro for me and chicken for Jean. Both outstanding.

Tonight, Jordan and I walked again—nice breeze. And I have written my daily thousand words. Could have gone farther, but I’m finding it best to stop there. It’s respectable progress, and I have a review book to keep reading. I had occasion to be specific about forensic findings at the scene of a shooting, so I consulted Fred, who was helpful as always. You’d think I could keep .38 caliber weapons and the difference between automatic and semi-automatic in my head from book to book, but apparently not. I decided the forensic team found a wad of chewed up gum someone had spit out—phew!

Of course, tonight all eyes are on Harvey as the storm roars ashore around Aransas Pass and Rockport. Several kind friends from across the country have emailed to check on me, and I’m glad to tell them all we may get out of it is some rain, though we have been warned to gas up cars in case supply from Houston is compromised. Two of my kids are in the heavy rain and storm belt—Colin in Tomball, and Megan in Austin. I’m hoping they check in fairly frequently, though this storm is supposed to be around for a very long week. Praying for people in its path. It’s a monster.

But even in storms there’s levity. I saw something on Facebook that was so typically Texan it made me laugh out loud. It was a map of the expected landfall, with wording to the effect, ‘You think that eclipse was something? Here, hold my beer and watch this shit.” (Pardon the profanity, but I bet it made you laugh.)

My other favorite from Facebook for the week: a redneck saying, “You mean the moon is going to cover the sun? Thanks, Obama!”

Over and out. Happy Friday, everyone.