Fingers crossed.

I’m watching CNN as I write this early Sunday evening, wondering how much of the coverage of Hurricane Katrina is TV hype-ola and how much of it is on the money. Time will tell, and pretty soon. So it would probably be in very poor taste to mention that our own weather today was, in a word, glorious. Clear, warm, with a sustained 15-knot wind blowing out of the southeast. Best sailing day ever.

It capped a truly pleasant weekend, the details of which I’ll spare you. OK, except for Saturday, when I tried to show just how tough I could be, running errands by bicycle in these days of $2.60 gasoline (post-hurricane price: $3.60). I stuffed the dry cleaning into the bike bags, dropped it off, and set off for the farmer’s market. It started to sprinkle. I’m too tough to turn back for a sprinkle. It turned into a shower. I’m too tough for a shower, too. The shower became a downpour, which I am tough enough to endure, but it sort of makes your trip pretty miserable. But by then I was soaked. Turn back? Errand undone? I’ll still be wet, but I won’t have my vegetables.

So I rode on. Boy, did I feel stupid. My shoes filled with water. My windbreaker became sodden, as did everything underneath. I stopped at the ATM, which got my billfold wet. On to the market, where I bought a bunch of wet vegetables. Loaded them into the saddlebags, which then got…wet inside. Long story short: I made it home, peeled my clothes off in the kitchen, dried myself off with a dish towel, and took inventory. Long story shorter: Everything was wet. But the day was warm, and a little water never killed anyone. Hours later, dried off, I headed out for another errand, car-based this time. I hit the little button that pops open the switchblade-action key.

Water dripped out.

Oh, well. You know what my dad used to say when I complained about going out in the rain? “Don’t worry, you’re not made of sugar. You won’t melt.” My dad: Always sweet-talkin’ his little girl.

Bloggage: Another in our continuing series, Detroit: It’s a tough town.

Posted at 9:04 pm in Uncategorized |

4 responses to “Fingers crossed.”

  1. brian stouder said on August 28, 2005 at 11:03 pm

    Here’s hoping that this idea of cramming people into the Superdome works out. In my ignorance I find the idea of 30,000+ people concentrated in one spot for a cat-5 hurricane flat-out unnerving…and the “experts” on teevee are using couched phrases such as that the dome “should” be safe….

    When this storm blew across Florida, the track they gave it was straight north to skirt Florida’a west coast and then hit the pan handle.

    that the thing blew so far out west and then hooked north just goes to sho how little the meteorologists really “know”

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  2. Carolyn said on August 29, 2005 at 12:17 pm

    I felt as jumpy as an addict after an evening of CNN (your hurricane headquarters) and the Weather Channel.

    Hours of talking that yielded just a few facts.

    The one thing I’ve learned in working on coverage of the last six hurricanes for my Florida newspaper is that you can’t know what’s happening when it’s happening.

    TV blackout this morning. I sat down and read my own newspaper, which at least gave me a feeling of knowing what was going on last evening. And finding it out in a logical way – not the nerve-jangling chaos of moment-to-moment reports.

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  3. Dorothy said on August 29, 2005 at 1:13 pm

    I should be working but instead I keep checking CNN. Why? I don’t know a soul in New Orleans. But Carolyn is right – it’s drummed into us that we NEED TO KNOW RIGHT NOW and it fills your brain and you can’t stop it! I’m vowing to shut off that part of my thought process until the NBC Nightly News at 6:30 tonight.

    I feel better already!

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  4. mary said on August 29, 2005 at 2:41 pm

    I’ve got a bit of the CNN jonesing going on, but I have the excuse of having a friend in the NO area. Her health isn’t great and she’s got dogs and cats to take with her if she had to evacuate. She’s a native to the area, so I’m sure she knows the drill. We’re all keeping good thoughts for her here.

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