Monday, August 29, 2011

Irene Aftermath


Well, I got lucky.

Irene was scheduled to hit my part of New Jersey hardest between 3 am and noon on Sunday. I started hurricane-proofing the homestead Friday evening because forecasts called for rain much of Saturday, and I had my other errands to take care of anyway. So while the girls were chowing down on Friday night nuggets, I put all the lawn furniture and trash cans in the garage, cleaned and realigned gutters, resecured doors and windows, and latched that pesky loose cable wire to the side of the house.

Saturday morning the wife cooked us all some eggs and toast (trying to get rid of perishables). I paid a pressing bill then took the little ones out with me for a few quick runs: post office, dry cleaners, recycling center, gas station, and, yes, Barnes and Noble (for a book for the big Little One: trying to turn her into a mini-Michael Dell).

It started raining - misting, rather - at 10:30 that morning.

Got back and put candles and matches on the dining room table, charged up cell phones, ran dehumidifyer in the basement. The girls packed up and left for my parent's house 75 miles away in PA, on the predicted periphery of the storm. They left amid drizzling rains at 12:30 and I did something rare for me, especially of late.

I decided to work out.

I did a couple sets of one-arm curls, some push-ups, leg dips and calf raises. Stretched. Cooked myself some chicken and had a protein-fest for lunch. A refreshing shower, and then I was ready to tackle this perfect storm.

Spent the next three hours removing the air conditioning units (we have four of 'em) and getting all the books and papers off the basement floor (I have a library down there). Nervous glances outside every now and then as the trees started swaying and the rains came down a little harder. Watched a lot of teevee that afternoon and evening interspersed with bouts of Mayor Bloomberg speaking espanol at the podium and Geraldo squeegieing horizontal rain out of his ginormous 'stache.

Had more chicken with some pasta. Watched some news and saw the big storm approaching via Doppler radar; waited for the worse to hit. Then, I got sleepy. Tried to read my Wilhelm SF novel but couldn't concentrate. I figured if I was to be baling water out of my attic (if the roof leaked) or the basement (if those concrete blocks failed me) it'd be in the wee hours of the morning. So I went to sleep on the couch at 10. On the first-floor living room couch, because I was also worried the three giant, fifty-foot oaks behind my house might overturn and crush the bedrooms on the second floor.

Twice during the night I woke up; both times I noticed power had been out from blinking clock lights. Around 12:30 and 3:30 I made the rounds, and was satisfied that the house was keeping the water out. Since there was no air conditioners running, I had a fan in the living room on me that tends to drown out outside noise. I shut it off and heard the winds and rains slamming my little abode. Truth be known, I was really surprised that no water was seeping in anywhere. I still realized the worse was yet to come, but I was so exhausted I had no trouble falling back asleep both times.

I awoke at 8 the next morning and for a third time inspected my house with pleasant results. Called the wife and girls to check up on them. Had breakfast and fiddled around all day as the storm finally began to ebb. There was actually 90 minutes of sun beginning at 10:30 on Sunday morning that dried my driveway and street! Feeling guilty, I watched mass on EWTN. Managed to read over 80 pages of the Wilhelm book. Put the dining room AC back in to cool of the house. Went out to inspect the backyard deck and nearly stumbled over Floyd. Had pasta for lunch, read some more, did my exercise bike, and watched Death Race 2000 on my laptop. Yep, it was a random, strange day.

Late afternoon brought fierce winds but no rain as the tail end of Irene swept across northern Jersey. Thank God I slept through this the first time, because it's quite scary seeing the tops of those fifty-foot oaks sway back and forth ten feet in every direction.

Though my house never lost power, my parents out in rural PA did. My wife made the executive decision to stay over there a second night, which I concurred. Sunday evening for me was uneventful. I prepared to go to work Monday morning. I read still some more (this time some Ouspensky, of which I must blog about soon). Watched some more bad 70s cinema. Went to bed early again, exhausted again.

But the house survived unscathed! O ye of little faith, why didst thou doubt!

[PS - Though it kept out the water, the roof gave up a few shingles to the storm goddess. I also noticed some buckling up there that was not there before. Oh well. That is for the roofers to address as they make their pilgrimmage here later in the week.]

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