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a passionate repentance

Post-Frances

Post-Frances

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may God stand
Frances is gone. Hurrah! At least for now, anyway. You know I didn't feel as afraid this time..and it wasn't as hot--the winds never rose to the same pitch as Charley and we actually slept with the windows open for a while. The wind felt good, whisking through clothes and hair, and it beat the unbearable stuffiness and humidity inside. No, what really bothered me was the *darkness*. I like to read. I like to read a LOT. And to realize that I had to wait until daylight to read, or write or else hold a flashlight in my teeth was a *pain*.

I don't think hurricanes are beautiful. And yes, I know that I made a choice somewhere along the line to live here, but it's not always easy or simple to pull up stakes and leave. My family is here for one thing. My husband will not leave his father, who is elderly. And I won't leave *him*.

Not that I haven't wondered where we could go. Everywhere has *something*..hurricanes, tornados, floods, earthquakes, spiders, snakes, and venemous fish, sandflies that give you leishmaniasis, or sandstorms that can bury you. Is a hurricane so great a trade off? I don't know.

The house has stood..it is older than I am and I feel that it will stand for long after I am gone, unless someone pulls it down.
  • Note that my hurricane appreciation stems from looking at them from some kilometers above ground, and otherwise not experiencing more than a small north Atlantic one every decade or two.

    Glad you got through this one okay!
  • Hey, you're always welcome to come out to my house during the hurricane season. I'll try to schedule the earthquakes for while you're away!
  • Glad to know you're okay, lady. I was praying for you and sending lotsa good thoughts your way.
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