Monday, October 29, 2012
I Heard that Sandy is a Real B.....
And apparently planning to linger over my 'hood for a day or two. We're always reasonably well stocked, so no worries there. Water check. Food check. Camp stove ready. The only panic point yesterday was realizing our wine cabinet was dangerously empty.
It's not often that I feel one with my fellow man, but yesterday at the crowded state store was one of those moments. All of us right here, we nodded to each other, we've got our priorities straight.
Laundry done, trash down, dishes washed. If I'm stranded for a few days without electricity ("Count on it" say emails and phone alerts from our electric company, PEMA and the governor himself) we might as well start with a clean slate, as it were.
Batches of soup are on the stove. Including this gorgeous, velvety roasted carrot concoction from A half-baked Life. Now if only I could find the damn duck/duct tape. I am going crazy about the duck tape. Like Mel, I get a little tweaky when I can't locate something, especially if my last remembrance of that object is me putting it away thinking, this makes sense to me now, but am I ever going to remember I put it here.
Obviously, I can't.
M thinks this is all hilarious. All of it. Tell me again why we need duck tape?
So, maybe the wine wasn't the only panic point I had yesterday. Out of nowhere, I had this awful thought: I wonder if our windows will be able to sustain the winds....
I love our apartment. Love it. It is perfect in a million ways. Our building is sturdy. Views lovely. entrances are secure - zombie-proof, even. but these windows, Oy. they might be the one thing in this grand old structure that's never been replaced. They're the kind that lose a little bit more of the wood supporting them every time you open and close them. It just crumbles in your hands as you creak them up. Half of them have to be wedged open and propped because the ropes that keep them up have frayed; the other half don't open...Ok, know what? I'm just not going to think about the windows.
Which gives me time to wonder how in the world I'm going to keep The Streak going if running along the river is not an option, my YMCA shuts down, and the treadmill in my in-law's basement is inaccessible.
This morning, day 106, I pounded out an extra mile on the Y's treadmill, because who knows when the next chance will be. I came home and took an extra long, extra hot shower, because who knows when the next chance will be. I made an extra large pot of tea, because....you know where this is going, right? Funny how the littlest of comforts can take on such meaning if you've been told you won't have them again for a bit.
The shower, the tea, all of that can be managed. But the streak, man. The streak.
My hallway is long, but not that long, to trot up a mile would definitely have my downstairs neighbor ready to kill me. I suppose I could run in place? The only other option I can think of is to run the stairs of the building. Up and back. 76 times.
Sweet Jeebus, please stay open YMCA....
Mom is here, staying with her sister. We're not sure if her Delaware neighborhood has been evacuated, but I think I'll probably follow her back down later this week to be sure her house is where she left it. While I'm slightly concerned about my windows, I am more than slightly bothered by the tall, old, dying pines hovering over the roofs of mom and her pals' little homes. They've begged to have them removed before one falls on its own. I'm hoping this is not the week they're proven right.
The one thing I am not worried about is sweet baby2b. S/he and baby mama are safe, far far away from Sandy's path. 18 weeks and one day today. I honestly, never, ever saw surrogacy as something that might be described as comforting. But this journey continues to surprise and amaze me.
Stay safe, friends. I'll post as electricity allows.