Hurricanes are on Their Way!

Preparing for hurricane season is like planning for death. It's impossible to know enough details to plan anything ahead. What's the point of even pre-paying for cremation? I could get burned up in a fire and wouldn't need to be cremated! Still, I need to make some preparations for this year's hurricane season.

Hurricanes are on the "cons" list for living in this year-round vacation paradise. One year, the first hurricane showed up on June 1st, the first day of the hurricane season. I thought, Right On, you smart meteorologists. 

Another year a hurricane passed directly over the apartment building I was living in. The wind roared and rattled the windows as the front of the storm passed through. Then for 15 minutes, everything outdoors was still, like nothing had happened. Living creatures in the grass outside shrieked, chirped, and croaked in a loud chorus. We were in the eye of the storm. And then the backside of the storm hit us like an electric mixer beating whipped cream at high speed. The building shook, windows rattled, and my partner Lew lay next to me in bed sound asleep through everything.

Another year, the hurricane hit a few weeks after I'd bought my first home in Melbourne. I was alone then, too. I paced through the house all night watching the water fill up my backyard like a bathtub and loom menacingly micro-inches from the top of my doorstep. The electricity went out, and the food in my refrigerator spoiled. Huge trees fell in my backyard, and one giant tree caught fire where the power lines passed through the branches. That's when I called the fire department. Poor guys having to be out in that storm! They gave me a valuable education. If a power line broke and fell into my backyard, I wasn't to touch any faucet or toilet handle, or any water in my house. I would be electrocuted. My birds and I hunkered down in the bathroom, unprepared for what was happening.

Last June 8, 2010, I moved into this double-wide trailer. In the 2004 hurricanes, the roof blew off the sun porch and carport rooms of this place, and the outer metal structures twisted up like pipe cleaners. Windows broke and porch walls came apart. Mother's husband John had the insurance to repair most of the damage.

In the 1990's, I was stopping by this place every day to feed the cat while my mother and stepfather visited relatives in Michigan when a storm went through. The new carport room they'd just had built flooded with three inches of water. I cleaned it up and put in fans to dry up the carpet.

For some reason, though, I wasn't worried about hurricanes when I moved in last season. I was too busy cleaning out all the stuff left behind by two dead people and trying to take care of the many details required to straighten out my mother's will and establish my ownership. Hurricane season was suddenly over, and no storm had threatened Central Florida.

This year I feel differently. I have a hunch that a hurricane will pay us a friendly visit this year. If one comes close, evacuation is mandatory for residents in this community. I've already located some nearby pet-friendly hotels, and I'm assembling enough stuff to live somewhere for three days. The sad part is that I'm already resigned that if a hurricane damages my house, I might not have the money to repair the damage. I have minimal insurance with high deductibles. This week I'm going to sign up to go on the waiting list at the Towers, a high-rise place for seniors with limited incomes in downtown Melbourne. If my name comes up on the list (years from now!) and my trailer is still standing, then I won't go. Simple.

Now I'm making a list of stuff to keep in a place near the door, including meds and vitamins, a sleeping bag, charcoal, lighter, and the little table grill from the utility room; dry and canned food, a weather radio, two small cleaned-up bird carrying cases and unopened bags of food for each bird, along with little birdy dishes; 4 1-gallon jugs of water, a packed overnight bag with enough clothes for three days, paper cups and plates, utensils and dish soap, and a flashlight with extra batteries. My important papers are in a notebook that I can grab at the last minute. I've signed up to receive alerts on my cell phone, and I'm connected to the National Hurricane Center on Facebook. You can write it into the Search box and when the page comes up, click "Like."

Yes, I like the convenience of Facebook for keeping in touch with the outside world. Too bad my laptop died. I won't be online while waiting out a storm in a motel room, but who needs a computer anyway--besides someone like me who's addicted to it?