Skip to main content

Moments in the Storm

On the night Hurricane Milton roared into our little town I was sitting and making fabric yoyos at the kitchen table. We have a rechargeable LED lightbulb in the fixture over it that comes on when the power goes out, and I was in the center back area of the house, which is basically the safest spot unless we're dealing with a tornado.

My guy was exhausted from doing our last-minute preps, and the storm had jogged further south, so he decided to go to bed. I tried to nap on the couch but I couldn't relax. Every so often I'd take my flashlight and use it to try to see what was happening outside. That's the worst part of having a hurricane at night -- when the power goes down, the world goes dark and combined with the rain and wind you just can't see anything.

A few times I opened the back porch door a few inches to look outside. The sound of the wind (even for someone deaf like me) was horrendous, and it kept trying to fling the door out of my hands. This tree, which lost a few branches that night, was completely bent over to the left as the back of the eyewall winds, the worst of the night, hit us. It's a tree we think is about a hundred and fifty years old, btw, and has been through dozens of storms, but I've never seen it do that.

We've lived through a lot of hurricanes over the years. I've always thought that the three that came consecutively back in 2004 were the hardest to endure, as they forced us to live without power for almost a month during the hottest weather that summer. Trying to deal with that and two young kids who didn't understand why the power wasn't coming back on was a slog. In terms of what happened to this house Hurricane Irma did way more damage back by tearing off roof shingles and siding along with massive tree damage in 2017.

When I looked out into the storm on the night Milton came through, however, at the very worst moment it was the same for me as staring into the proverbial abyss. Had the hurricane just been a little bit stronger, I could see the force of the storm tearing our home apart, or causing it to collapse on top of us. That hellish potential was all right there, not ten feet away from me. It left me quite shaken.

We will go through more storms; living here it's inevitable. We will keep learning from our experiences, prepare well and do what we can to ensure our safety. Yet never again will I assume we're safe. Not after this one.

Labels:

Comments

Maria Zannini said…
I have an odd fascination with natural phenomenon. The first time I experienced a tornado, I was taking a night class in Dallas. People had to coax me away from the glass door. It was a terrifying awe that kept me fixated. I was scared, but too curious to leave.
Hurricanes are the same for me. I love the angry noise as it approaches and the eerie quiet when you're in the eye.

There's a majesty in it.
November 24, 2024 at 6:49 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Other Stashes

Along with clearing out the spare bedroom and tidying my office and our guest bedroom, I decided to reorganize some of my stashes. This is all the yarn I have on hand, sorted by color. It looks like a lot, but lately I've been using up a minimum of half a bin every month, so this is approximately a year's supply. All of my solid color cotton perle thread. I go through a lot of this every year, too. I need a container in which I can fit all of it together, but I haven't found the right one yet. I won't show you all of my fabric -- I'm still reorganizing this stash -- but I went through everything and donated two bins of fabric I won't need to the local quilter's guild.
Post a Comment
Read more

Downsizing

This was my fabric stash once I sorted everything -- 22 full bins. I spent a day taking out and boxing up what I could part with, with the goal of trying to reduce it by half, so I'd have 11 bins. I was very strict with myself, and removed everything that for one reason or another I was sure I wouldn't be able to use. This is what I ended up with -- 12 bins of fabric that I'm keeping. It's not quite half, but close enough. Half of what I took out went to a local quilter friend, a school and Goodwill. These four tightly-packed bins will be going to the local quilting guild once I make arrangements with them for a drop-off place. I am relieved and a little sad and now determined to control my impulses to thrift more fabric. I don't want to do this again, so until I use up six bins, I can't for any reason bring any new fabric into the house.
Post a Comment
Read more

Love Means This

Invested in a couple of hand-dyed bundles from one of my favorite fabric artists. This one said "Make me into something for Valentine's Day." So I went for a quilted and embellished tote. I kept thinking about what love means to me as I worked on it. Here's the finished tote. Although I was tempted to embellish with beads and pins, I got sick and only felt well enough to do a little stitching every night. As I worked I thought about how often love seems disappointing to us, especially when it fails to live up to our expectations. But now that I've experienced love in many forms, I can say that it's made me a better person than I might have been without it. Love is a precious thing, and should be appreciated in all its forms. I am very grateful for the love of my guy, my child and my friends who have stuck with me all these years. That's you two, in case you're wondering. :) Also finally found something to do with a ve...
Post a Comment
Read more