So Monday the 8th I flew down to Fort Walton Beach for Dad’s 90th birthday. During the Atlanta stop, TYG texted me there was a hurricane on the way, providing irony #1: I no longer lived where hurricanes were a constant occurrence, but I’d made a conscious choice that put me in the part of one.
Still, I wasn’t that worried about Michael. It was just me, no TYG, no pups, no need to fear damage to our house. And after Florence proved milder than expected, I wasn’t worried much by the terrified TV warnings. Which shows that even a hurricane veteran like myself can get overconfident; Michael really did come in as a Category 4 and the damage it did to Panama City and other communities east of us (a couple of them are no longer there) was horrifying.
Still, here at my friend Cindy’s house (which she shares with her sister and my sister) everything was fine. Irony #2 was that Durham, by contrast, got hammered. Internet outages, much to TYG’s frustration, and then the power went out Sunday night and stayed off for 12 hours. Plushie completely freaked at his schedule being off and the sudden darkness. It’s probably just as well TYG couldn’t go, as the dogs would then have been at the dog boarding facility, in the dark, with no power, and alone for at least part of the time.
The worst I suffered was that the hurricane disrupted my plans to catch up with people and I didn’t see all the friends as I’d hoped. I still had a great time hanging out with family; I haven’t seen Paige since my wedding, and she’s now 24 (she can buy beer. I feel old). We had Dad’s dinner at a restaurant on the beach, played a marathon game of rummy and a round of Goofy Golf. It was a great trip.
Sunday I came home without any problem.
Below: a frog I found on Cindy’s window the day before Michael hit. I’ll post some more fun photos from the trip soon.
#SFWApro. Cover by Pat Broderick, all rights remain with current holder.