Storm Watch: And Finally, Depression

Erika apparently couldn't handle the 10,000 foot mountains of the Dominican Republic and Haiti. It seems to have broken up and degenerated into a mere tropical depression that will now sweep over Cuba and out into the Gulf. There's a slight possibility it could reform once it's out over open water again but, odds are we'll just get a lot of windy rain from the west.

The State of Emergency has been cancelled.

Sanibel Islanders who got reentry passes can keep them for possible future use.

The South Florida Water Water Management District had announced plans to lower the water levels in their canals over the weekend. No word on whether that's still on or not.

Looks like we'll just have to file away our amazing survival stories for another time.

Storm Watch: Well, That Escalated Quickly

Our thoroughly corrupt, Tea Party governor has declared a state of emergency in advance of Tropical Storm Erika.

I have no respect for this man who should be behind bars and would be if the 1% stopped covering for each other but this was probably a good idea, all in all. Mind you, we still don't know where . . . or if . . . Erika might hit us. It was forecast to go north of Puerto Rico and then turn up the Florida coast. Instead, it moved south of the island and is expected to cross over Hispaniola which might kill it thanks to the mountainous terrain. If it does survive or reform after the Dominican Republic it will be further west before making its northerly turn which means a much better chance of hitting the Florida mainland and of being much closer to us.

In fact, the most recent predicted track, assuming Erika survives Hispaniola, puts the center of the storm directly over us before noon Monday.

The state of emergency activates the Florida National Guard in addition to preparing the way to apply for federal aid. It also gives the media a handle to help focus people's attention. Considering how little experience a lot of folks down here have with cyclonic storms right now, that's probably a good thing.

Police on Sanibel Island have begun issuing re-entry passes to residents (orange for homeowners, blue for businesses) for use in the event the island needs to be evacuated.

Of course, Erika might not survive the Dominican mountains. It might not turn at all but go straight into the Gulf of Mexico. But it's already killed a dozen or more people so better to be over prepared than under.

Storm Watch: The Tempest or Much Ado About Nothing?

Our local newspaper and NPR station have begun issuing storm "notices" regarding tropical storm Erika. "Notices" has to be the least threatening, most benign sort of warning possible. Essentially, they're tracking the storm giving expected arrival times along the predicted path: US Virgin Islands, Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic. They have not yet predicted a landfall on the mainland.

I understand the early concern. It's been almost exactly ten years (minus two months) since the last hurricane, Wilma, hit Florida and there are literally tens of thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of newish arrivals here who have never experienced any sort of cyclonic storm before.

Erika is supposed to be off the coast by Miami sometime Monday. Current projections call for a northward turn that might take it up the coast (either on or off land). If that's the case, we should see some winds and, probably, a fair amount of rain although we've been getting plenty enough of that on a daily basis anyway, thank you very much. For the last couple of nights we've been directly under small, short-lived but incredibly intense thunderstorm cells with continuous close lightning and wall rattling thunder.

If, however, Erika doesn't turn, it will cross the peninsula directly toward us and we could be on the receiving end of a small but very real hurricane.

But, Then Again, It's Not the Last Minute, Yet

Well, Hurricane Season has officially started as of the beginning of the month and, although the daily rain cycle of last week has broken and the skies are clear again, already the local weather reports have added a special warning-imminent crisis segment just for hurricanes, of which there are none around and only one potential one way over the horizon on the Pacific coast of Mexico.

But, y'know, that named tropical storm could cross over Mexico losing most of its energy on the way and depositing the remnants into the Gulf where they might survive as some sort of disturbance that has a theoretical chance of affecting us. Someday. Maybe. It could happen.

It's never too early to start panicking.

On the other hand, it's been almost a decade since our last real hurricane and an awful lot of people have moved in since then and don't know--or just plain forgot--what a true cyclonic storm can be like. I know we've let our own food stocks slip a bit, and we haven't tested any of our batteries, lights, etc., recently.

My brother got a quote on replacing our roof but that's not something he intends to do immediately so, if we do get hit, we will be under a 25 year old roof.

And somebody official (not sure who) just released a new flood map of the county that puts us under threat for 3 feet of water from storm surge although it's not clear what size storm they're referencing, or its likelihood, or where exactly they measured the three feet from. If it's from the main road we could still be mostly O.K. since the house is built on a small rise (coincidentally, about three feet) above street level.

And now, of course, if we do have to evacuate, we'll need something to carry the cats in.

So maybe a little panic-mongering from the local weather folk is what we need to start prepping after all.

Public Service Scare Tactics

Our local public radio station is trying to hawk their (totally useful and really a good idea for when the power goes out) wind-up radio receivers, for which one has to make a hefty donation to the station, by using the line "you know our weather can change from moment to moment without any warning so be prepared."

Uh, no.

This is the most predictable weather I've ever seen (outside of San Diego where they just post "sunny and 68F" and leave it up 360 days a year). The seven day forecasts are accurate. Rainy Season begins within 48 hours of its scheduled start every year. If they say clouds will roll in during the afternoon, the clouds obligingly stay away until after lunch. It may not always be pleasant what with the heat and humidity and general muggy swampiness, but it's virtually never surprising.

Even our worst weather, the stuff for which you'll actually need a wind-up radio, is identified so far in advance that it can be individually named and tracked by computer.

So, yes, get the radio. Be prepared. Stock up. Plan for the worst case. But if you don't, if something goes wrong, no one will believe you if you claim you were surprised.

Stood Up By Chantal

So, Tropical Storm Chantal collapsed before hitting the Bahamas and is now just a "wave."

All the projected tracks had it well east of us, over the east coast and Miami, so we were never too concerned. As it is, yesterday was beautiful as was most of this morning. A very heavy band of dark cumulus rolled in from the southeast just before noon full of threats and promises but continued right on past without fulfilling any of them beyond a little thunder and a quick shower.

Which is just as well since, with all the regular rain we've been getting lately, the canals are pretty well full and the ground is saturated. It's not going to take much to put us back into a flood warning and maybe actual flooding. As it is, the water table is so high each new storm forces the burrowing owls up and out of their dens and onto the handy little crucifixes put up by the protective society.

But Don't Panic

It's that time of year when the local and state authorities issue their warnings about the dangers of the great outdoors. Hurricanes, floods (June is Flood Awareness Month), mosquitoes (Seriously, 48 different species?! Including eleven that are unique to here?), toxic algae, poisonous spiders and snakes, alligators and sharks.

And now the best of all: brain eating amoebas!

O.K., they're very rare. But of the 128 known cases in the U.S. only one person has survived. They live in warm fresh water including possible drinking sources (3 people were infected using neti cups) and climb up through your nose into your brain where they feast on the gray goo behind your forehead.

I've never even heard of these things before this week.

Welcome to paradise.

Weather . . . Or Not

Tropical Storm Andrea has passed us by but a trailing spiral arm of wind and rain is bearing straight down on us.

Our Tornado Watch, which was supposed to expire at 11:00 a.m., was temporarily upgraded to a Tornado Warning after a waterspout was spotted on the surface of the Gulf due west of us. It moved north by northwest and was expected to make landfall a couple of counties away (where, if it survives the changeover to dry land, it will officially be a tornado) so the warning was reduced to a watch again but now extended throughout the day. Another tornado has just been reported on the ground in Belle Isle off to the east.

(Our tornadoes/waterspouts tend to be smallish thanks to the temperature shear effects of the land/water boundary.)

Our Flood Warning is in place at least into this evening. No one is giving an exact expiration time. The canals are quite full and many low areas (swales and ditches alongside roads and in highway medians) are already under water which is no surprise considering the intensity of the downpours despite their sporadic nature.

We're also under a Lake Effect Wind Warning through tonight but I find that hard to take seriously since most of the winds are southwesterly off the Gulf trailing Andrea and Lake Okeechobee is over a hundred miles away to our east.

Once again the worst of it seems to surround us while we get off relatively lightly.

My brother just went out to buy more cat food. Bartleby, who spent last night perched on her lawn chair in the pouring rain, has at least been convinced to come into the garage to eat.

Premonitions

Hurricane Season officially began today.

We've been pretty cavalier the last few years in our preparations to the point where I'm not sure exactly how old the water jugs in the pantry are although I am of the opinion they're probably past even my relaxed concept of expiration dates. And we've been letting the stockpile of pasta and canned goods slowly decline as well.

Something about this year feels different in an undefined, and probably undefinable, way. It's just a feeling both my brother and I have that we've been lucky the past few years and should not become dependent on that luck.

So . . ..

My brother has put out several large sheets of plywood we can use to board up windows, if necessary. They're stacked up by the corner of the lanai, which is where they'll most be needed but also because city code enforcement objected to keeping them on a side of the house visible from the street. (Priorities, people!)

We'll make sure the propane tank is filled. We'll refill the jugs with fresh water. We'll continue our normal food purchase routine but every time we buy a non-perishable item we'll pick up one extra for the reserve. New batteries are probably a good idea, too, although we have hand-cranked radios and lights.

Of course, the more prepped up we become the less likely we are to get a real storm which is fine because a few extra boxes of pasta and cans of tuna are a whole lot cheaper than a new roof.

Making the Best of a Windy Situation

Even though Sandy missed us by about two hundred miles, it's big enough that the backside winds have been blowing steadily for the past four days. And, while they're from the north and dry thus giving us high clear skies and temperate days, they're also strong enough to prevent my brother from putting out any more inflatable Hallowe'en decorations or blowing up the ones that are already on the lawn.

Neighbor Dan has been unable to raise his legions either and his have been staked out since the first of the month which means the grass all around them is now almost two feet tall and what's under them is probably dead.

My brother has been receiving more Hallowe'en stuff than I knew about. There are now four life-size ethereal figures looming around the living room. Three females and one male, all close to six feet tall, with livid hands and faces and draped in linen and gauze. They can't go outside, either, until the calm returns.




We did get to make use of one of his new purchases: a skull shaped (two halves, front and back) cake pan. He brought it out last night and we made up a double batch of pound cake* batter because the skull cavities looked a lot larger than they turned out to be so, after baking, we ended up excising a lot more of the material between the two halves than we had intended in order to get them to fit together properly the result being we have most of a pound cake, in two pieces, left over which is

actually a nice problem to have.

While the width of the skull cake is almost right, especially given the extremely pronounced zygomatics, the parietal is truncated giving it something of a bullet shape when viewed from the side. It remains, nevertheless, delicious.

My brother found some black food coloring when he went out late last night for additional baking supplies, so I am leaving the skull decorating to him.

* Is a double batch of pound cake a kilo cake? Sorry.

Transitions

A number of seasons are ending and beginning just now.

Rainy Season officially ended at the beginning of the month and I optimistically began leaving my car windows open to avoid the runaway greenhouse effect resulting from parking a sealed up vehicle in the sun. Unfortunately, the actual end-of-season is a bit more raggedy and I've had to bale twice now after leaving the car open at the library. And that doesn't even count my brother very kindly not waking me when he came home late one night as it started to shower and hanging towels all over my open windows. I have no idea why he has so many towels in his truck.

Fall is approaching. It is noticeably cooler (although today it's cloudy mostly because of Hurricane Sandy way off the east coast). I watched a tribe of very tiny ants stocking up for the coming "cold" spell. Scores of them were climbing up and down a vine including four triumphantly hoisting a cockroach leg aloft as they negotiated the tendrils. To be more precise, three of them were carrying the leg. The fourth had grabbed it in such a way that it's own legs couldn't reach any surface while they were moving and it just sort of dangled along for the ride not only not helping but actively adding to the burden.

With the weather cooling down, Bartleby has decided to become an outdoor cat again. She spends her time sleeping beneath one or the other of our vehicles or, occasionally, in a lawn chair and comes in only to dine. When we open the door for her she complains loudly at our inattention for not opening it sooner and, as soon as she finishes her meal, she starts yelling at us to let her out again. I am become majordomo to the cat.

Also, the zombies have come and gone. It's an annual migration, pretty much confined to the other side of the river.

Besides, Oktoberfest is here. After a couple of days no one on this side of the river will even notice a few zombies wandering loose.

Miscellanea: Fauna, Aquatic, Aerial and Terrestrial

It looks like the Mohawk Reef has become a magnet for whale sharks. A second one was spotted there just this past week. It's also become a magnet for just about every other fish within twenty miles.

And it seemed the great turtle egg-laying season from earlier this year might have been compromised by Tropical Storm Debby and Hurricane Isaac but, then again, maybe not.

The sulphur butterflies are all over the yard, about the same size and color as the new lemons on the lemon tree. A few viceroys and some others I haven't been able to identify yet are also hanging about.

  

   

The abundance of lizards would seem to indicate that the Cuban Tree Frogs have not overwhelmed our little ecological niche.

And then, of course, there is the cat who has become sleek and fat and demanding, training us to her extremely large vocabulary of grunts, whistles, chirps and mewls as she explains that her food dish needs topping off and her water bowl requires freshening and the door needs to be held open right now while she decides whether to sit on the cushioned chair outside under the oak or remain sprawled on the living room carpet.

On the Effectiveness of Warding Talismans

So Isaac passed us by. It's not surprising seeing how well prepared we were.

It's seems the more actions taken in anticipation of an event the less likely the event becomes, almost as if the preparation itself is a kind of shield.

We had stocked up on non-perishable, pre-cooked food. We pulled out our flashlights and candles and filled water jugs in addition to the bottles of various juices already on hand. We rummaged through the garage in a successful search for Sterno so we could, in the event, heat the food that needed no cooking anyway. We pulled in the lawn furniture, snugging it up along the picket fence leading to the front door, and and pushed the trash bins against the garage weighting the lids with spare tires.

And Isaac came on.

The county removed the tolls from the various bridges although I'm not sure why since they're paid one way only, and that westbound, meaning anyone evacuating the barrier islands or the Cape eastbound crosses for free normally anyway. The county also closed all government offices, courts, libraries, etc. The cities closed schools. The county ordered mandatory evacuation of the islands and some mainland beach communities but was generally ignored.

And still Isaac came on.

I think what finally did the trick was my brother getting up early Sunday morning to go out and buy 25 gallons of gasoline for the generator. Within hours of his return, Isaac gave up and took a jog out to sea.

In the end, nothing happened. Sunday was overcast. Only after dark did the wind pick up intermittently with a smattering of rain. Three transformers blew up in the neighborhood but down here virtually every telephone pole also carries a transformer so, except for the actual explosions, the effects were negligible. Monday alternated between gray with moderate winds and occasional squally rain and bright sunny calm blue sky. There was a heavy cloud bank off to the west out over the Gulf and some thunder and lightning up north but nothing near us. In all, we received barely two inches of rain. The Atlantic coast and Lake Okeechobee (further away from the storm) received anywhere from three to ten times as much.

My brother expressed relief he didn't waste the energy boarding up any windows. The way the talismans worked, both ours and the county's, if he had, Isaac might just have evaporated away.

The Calm Before

Isaac is on his way. Currently, there is a hurricane warning from the keys up to Bonita Beach which is about twenty miles south of us. We have a tropical storm watch notice.

Yesterday was perfect. Warm, sunny, high broken clouds. No humidity. In other words, a tease. While still warm and dry, today is heavily overcast with high, thick clouds thinning slightly to the north. Under that cover lurks a bank of cumulus covering most of the southern horizon. These clouds are not Isaac but are being pushed ahead of the storm as it nears. Wind is gentle from the west. Water in our numerous canals is slightly roiled.

Isaac is supposed to stay out to sea and become stronger as it passes us. That means probably less wind (first from the east, then south and, finally, west) but more rain as the cyclonic spin carries water to us from the Gulf without first passing over other land. Rain is scheduled to start sometime this evening and could last for two or three days. There will be flooding.

We have stocked up on canned goods (the kind that can be eaten directly from the tin in case the power goes off although I'll probably stick with the tuna as canned ravioli and packages of chicken 'n' dumplings in pasty "gravy" appeal only slightly more than cannibalism as menu options), bottled juices, bread and cat food (a necessity since I am confident the cat would have no compunction about considering either of us menu options if the need/opportunity arose). Our flashlights and emergency radio are crank operated so batteries are not an issue. We could use more peanut butter and I'll pick up another book from the library. I'll have to remember to do laundry tonight.

Odds are none of this will be necessary (except the laundry).

Undersharing and Overstocking

Our local supermarket changes its specials and sale items mid-week and the circular for the upcoming week appears in the paper on Wednesday before the Thursday changeover which means we have about twelve hours of overlap wherein we can avoid buying an item today which will go on sale tomorrow and purchase an item today which will go off sale tomorrow. It's a moderately efficient system for saving a little bit here and there at no additional cost.

My brother and I both went shopping yesterday. Separately. Without informing the other of our intent.

We did both buy things the other did not. But we also both bought sale items. In quantity.

While we still need to go back and stock up on non-perishable staples (and cat food) in anticipation of Isaac's visit, it's comforting to know that, with seven pounds of bacon and six 24 oz. bottles of pancake syrup, we can host breakfast for the neighborhood should the need arise.

Hmmmm, bacon.

Debby Does Gainsville

Well, after a weekend of heavy (although on-again off-again) rain and sometimes howling winds it appears Debby is going (ever so slowly) east. We were only ever on the trailing edge of the storm but the cyclonic airflow kept heavy wet air moving up from the south.

The only major damage anywhere in the area was in Ft. Myers where flash flooding overwhelmed an ancient water main which broke closing down most of a major street for the better part of the day, Sunday.

I can only imagine what the people up in the panhandle are going through facing a storm with 50+mph winds and rain parked right in front of them for literally days on end. These are the folks who had a 13 inch deluge just a couple of weeks ago.

Keeping Our Priorities Straight

So, right on time, The Season starts and the forecasters increase the expected number of named storms. Not a big increase but, considering the head start we got, not surprising.

All the warnings have gone out and are being ignored as usual prompting a slew of fear mongering to get people to pay attention. Pretty much business as usual.

More importantly: Happy National Doughnut Day everyone!!

Stormy Weather

Hurricane Season officially starts tomorrow.


Also, know how to
get the hell out of town, if necessary.


Normally, opening day is noted by the newspapers and weather reporters and we all continue on about our business as usual only now with the reminder to stock up on canned goods, bottled water and batteries* rattling around in the back of our minds. The season doesn't usually peak until August and there are often many incipient storms that just remain low pressure systems off Africa before then.

This year may be different. Although the prognosticators are prognosticating a low-to-normal season, we've had two named storms already even before the starting gun was fired. Neither hit us (Alberto stayed out to sea and Beryl landed up north along the Florida/Georgia border) but based on the low-end forecasts we've used up 25% of our named storm quota before the season opener.

In the meantime, we're getting patchy rain and scattered thunderstorms forcing me either to close my car windows or bail in the morning.

*We have both a hand-cranked radio and a hand-cranked flashlight so batteries are optional in our house.

Mom, A Life: Part Three

Mom, A Life: Part Two

The Pre- and Early War Years

In 1938, before the war started, Mom and her sister, Shirley, experienced what they thought was a huge windstorm, what's known in New England as a Nor'easter. They saw huge trees fall and went outside across the street to the bluff overlooking the beach where a twenty-five foot storm surge had brought the ocean to within five feet of their perch. The young man who would later marry Mom was out working, delivering groceries. There being no storm forecasts in those days, it was only after the fact that anyone knew they'd been through the most destructive hurricane in the 20th Century to hit Long Island and parts of Connecticut further west.

In 1939 Mom had the chance to visit her Uncle George Matthieu in Newport News, Virginia. Uncle George had married into the family when he met Mom's Aunt Eula at a medical facility in Louisiana where she was a nurse and he'd been sent to recover after being gassed in World War I. They'd moved to Connecticut but the Depression was on and as the government geared up for war Uncle George found work as a pattern maker for the Navy. Mom's family drove to Virginia in their 1933 Hudson, a three day trip averaging 35 miles per hour and staying overnight in roadside cabins, the precursors to motels, for $3.00 per night for the entire family, including Grandma Davis. Some of the cabins even had indoor plumbing. It was in Virginia that Mom ate her first fresh fig, plucked right from the tree. They stayed for a week and then drove home for three days again.

Mom had always wanted to be a nurse, maybe because of the other nurses in the family or maybe because of her extensive exposure to the medical profession with her repeated operations as a child. The problem was, the tuition was $300, which, during the Depression, as she said, "might as well have been $3 million." So, instead, she went to work as a lab assistant for the Chief of Ophthalmology at Yale, for $20 a week.

As World War II approached, the federal government set up the Nurse Cadet Corps in anticipation of future needs. The Cadet Corps not only paid the tuition but gave the girls a stipend to live on. Her boss encouraged Mom to sign up but she had to take extra classes first in math, trigonometry and chemistry. Fortunately for her, they let her substitute her French for the Latin she never took in school. She took the classes while she continued working.

By then the war had started. Mom's brother, Chester, immediately enlisted in the Marines rather than wait to be drafted. He disappeared into the Marine Corps and no one in the family knew where he was until they received a notice saying he was recovering from being wounded on Iwo Jima. Mom's mother was frantic but apparently the wound was relatively minor.

Marshall Rosinus, the boy Mom would eventually marry, enlisted in the Air Force, or rather tried to. He had to make three attempts, because of some irregularity in his eyes, before they would take him and even then he spent the war stateside as a recruiting sergeant on college campuses.

Mom was accepted to Hartford Hospital School of Nursing in 1944 for the class of '47. All the other girls were 18 year olds fresh out of high school. Mom was 25.

Miscellanea

The local dead tree happy news "newspaper" drops free copies twice a week in our driveway. I always thought it was a marketing ploy to get people to subscribe for the other days but the last one they left on Thursday was the same one they dropped last Saturday so maybe it's just their way of disposing of their leftovers.

It seems we are no longer the fastest growing county in the entire country. (Honestly, I didn't know we ever were. I always thought whatever county Las Vegas is in held that dubious honor.) Anyway, we are now 33rd thanks to fracking North Dakota.

Which is just as well because when the big storm finally comes along, we're all boned. It could take 70 hours to evacuate our low-lying peninsula and the surrounding county. (We're pretty much in the middle of the peninsula and we're not 10 feet above mean sea level. In fifty years it won't make a difference.)

On the bright side, we caught the rat that's been eating the cat's food. My brother had been putting peanut butter topped with cat kibble on the trap but the rat was very good at cleaning it all off without triggering the spring. A piece of hot dog proved both irresistible and immovable. The cat, who prefers to sprawl under the oak tree all day pretending to be a lion lazing under an acacia on the Serengeti and couldn't be bothered to protect her own food supply, was curious enough to come over as I was disposing of the carcass. I told her if she wanted a rat of her own she'd have to catch it herself, so she went back under the oak for a nap.

Useless beast.