Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Hurricane Preparedness

It's time once again for another edition of Chesapeake Bay Woman's Guide to Whatever, which in this case is Hurricane Unprepared Preparedness.

Above is a shot of the neighbor's boat there in the background which is ABOVE the dock the boat house during the last storm which started out as a hurricane on another planet, but dwindled to mere "nor'easter" status by the time it reached Mathews.

(Please pardon CBW while she scoffs at that nor'easter label, then howls with laughter at it, then ultimately sheds a tear or twelve because she remembers that, much like the episode captured above, she has neglected to secure any and all items from her dock in spite of the advance warning last night from her neighbor. Carry on.)

Let's begin.

1. The most important thing to remember when there's a threat of a hurricane is this: be completely ignorant of the shituation as long as possible. The later you find out, the less time there is to panic worry about all those little details such as "How will I prepare when I have to work and won't be home until dark for the rest of my life?" Worrying really does no good. Whatsoever. Ignorance is bliss.

2. If possible, schedule the (possible or probable) hurricane for one of your busiest weeks in the year for your paying job, the onset of the new school year, fall sports practices at two different schools in two different counties and the four thousand meetings they require of parents of rising freshman, as if we're not already gravely concerned with the fact that we just left high school ourselves and now we have children old enough to attend.

To truly appreciate this extra-special experience, be sure to schedule your disaster during a time of trying hormonal changes which render one crying one moment and Tazmanian Devil-like the next.

3. Become familiar with the stages of Hurricane Preparedness which are as follows:

An entire bag of Gibbles potato chips, family size
Continued denial until they start talking about evacuation plans at work
Still More of the Denial
A hot dog for breakfast, and you don't even eat hot dogs. Or breakfast.
Irrational anxiety over things unrelated to the hurricane
More potato chips
Anger when everything goes wrong, and it always does (a story for another day)
Surrender Dorothy! (and insert the scary music from the wicked witch who snarls, "I'll get you my pretty!")
Surrender to all of these things out of your control.
Listen to Que Sera Sera as sung by Doris Day.
Cry that you are the only one in your office who has ever heard of Doris Day.
Chips and salsa.
Whatever, there's nothing I can do.
Acceptance/que sera, sera.

4. Whatever you do, learn from your past mistakes which include leaving your patio umbrella in your glass-topped table during hurricane-force winds and ignoring all the warning signs of disaster which included a sideways glimpse of the table scooting this way and that during the storm, when the instruction manual on the table you actually purchased said nothing about scooting abilities.

5. Most of all, relax. Chances are slim to none good--nay, great-- the weather forecasters will be wrong. But just in case, make sure you have water, batteries for a radio and an evacuation plan which includes a one-way ticket to Borneo.

6. Wonder what portion of your brain serves as the attic to store such words as "nay" when you can barely string a sentence together using modern-day words, terms and phrases such as "scooting abilities" of a patio table and "Doris Day."

7. Most of all, don't worry. You're already stressed out anyway, so seven one additional major disaster can't possibly make much difference.

Take a gander at all that shattered glass below the table above. It was a mere eight or so months later that I got around to cleaning it all up, and that was only because I had people coming in for Blog Fest.

Stay tuned for the next edition of Chesapeake Bay Woman's Guide to Whatever, when "whatever" will be "How to fix a camper that she broke--nay ruined--when trying to prepare in darkness for the hurricane that may or may not hit."

The End.


Deltaville Jamie said...

I was thinking of something witty to say but I got nothin'. I get so anxious about impending doom, er, storms that my mom got me a weather radio that is charged by cranking the handle (no batteries needed) and even charges cell phones. I take it on every trip.
I would take the umbrella down and push the table into the corner of the deck so it can't flip- speaking from experience. And please keep your fingers crossed that if Earl does come ashore in VA that he takes out the neighbor's tree in Deltaville that is blocking our view.
I might drive the bike/broom down instead of the van...

Mental P Mama said...

Okay. So where is the part about laying in the wine?

Noe Noe Girl...A Queen of all Trades. said...

I have chips and wine. No worries here!

Anonymous said...

Sc**w the table - go grab your dad's hammer(cause you probably don't own one, and if ya did, it's long been lost)now and smash that sucker to bits. Walla - no more worries!
Now, with your mind at easy and wine in hand, climb back into that hot-tub and continue doin what you do best...lookin M.A.R.V.E.L.O.U.S and writing blogs.
A side benefit, you can work on your hook shot with the empty wine bottles...using the broken glass from the table as a make-shift net.

Daryl said...

So here in NYC where nothing short of a 24 inch snow fall can really stop much of anything and then once that snow stops falling it gets cleaned up ASAP at least in Manhattan .. so when there's a hurricane warning everyone runs to the grocery to get milk, bread and I dont know what ... as if the milk and bread and whatever else trucks are not going to make it .. and we will all end up like the Donner Party .. do you prefer the leg or arm?

WV fortsusl .. the fort susl is for tornado not hurricane

Deltaville Jamie said...

Are milk, bread and TP hot commodities for a hurricane? I thought it was batteries and generators. Without electricity we won't have water and therefore no need for the TP. Hurricanes don't do much in Gettysburg.

Mrs F with 4 said...

I know nothing about hurricanes, except to not be there when there is one.

Am I the only person in the western hemisphere NOT to have read or seen the Wizard of Oz?

My car said 42 C when I got into this afternoon. I'm pretty sure it was not lying.

My a/c is still on the blink, and as you can doubtless tell, my precarious ability to string a sentence together has deserted me entirely. Perhaps Earl has it?

deborah said...

I have a dog named Earl. That's all the funny I've got about a darned hurricane. Keeping you and yours in my thoughts, hoping Earl doesn't make land near you! Oh, an extra pack of tp is always handy to have on hand.

Diane said...

Quick, drive the kids to the airport, call in sick, buy three tickets to Seattle. When you get here, we'll all go to the pub and laugh about Earl, because here in Seattle, we have no such thing as hurricanes, only earthquakes. And we don't name those.

Baroness von Bloggenschtern said...

I sit here, ensconced in my Northern lair, impervious to hurricanes, but not to shifting plates (as opposed to scooting tables).

I wish that certain list-makers would heed Item 1 of their own advice, i.e. don't worry. Because I read about a lot of worrying. And we were only a hurricane of women and hot air.

I also am thankful that snack food can be itemized as part of the action plan. Because I don't know about you, but my mind seems to clear after the second, nay, third bag of chips.

Maybe Jamie could lend you some of those floaty-type devices in case the water creeps up the lawn? Or, as a corollary to Diane's advice, pass Seattle and come to Canada. When disaster strikes, we're all so damned polite while we wait in line. For chips.

wv: endubtar, as in "I'm telling ya, Gertie, it's the end u....Btarnation! Would you look at all that weather out there?"

Meg @ Soup Is Not A Finger Food said...

I would have added a tag for "Gibbles," but maybe that's just me. Any potato chip that's still cooked in lard in this day and age is worth consuming by the bagful. (Where do you get 'em in Virginia?? They hail from PA, you know.)

foolery said...

Skip Seattle and Vancouver and come straight to the Hillbilly Heartland: The Great North Valley of Northern California (shoot, so glad we don't hafta put that on our license plates). Earthquakes are frequent here but I've felt only TWO in 45 years (NOT 46, Cheeky, do NOT age us prematurely, please).

You always have a hurricane hideout on the west coast -- take your pick (ME! ME! Pick ME!).

And glad you're safe. : )