Having been caught in Hurricane Irene last year, we're taking Hurricane Sandy seriously. I find it funny to see the words describing this storm in back-to-back reports.
I'm talking about this "biblical in nature " "Frankenstorm." (I picture Charlton Heston changing out of his Moses costume and into his Phantom of the Opera suit.)
Flights up and down the Eastern seaboard have been cancelled.
Amtrak has cancelled most of its routes from Boston to DC.
Many of the counties have cancelled school already for tomorrow, and some for Tuesday, as well. My youngster is thrilled to bits. It sort of makes up for the zero snow days he got last winter. Score one for Sandy.
My husband's boss emailed everyone to judge for themselves about venturing to the office tomorrow. They have the work-from-home option. Or, in his case, the don't-work-at-all option. That's one of the perks of
All of us prepare much the same way for hurricanes, to varying degrees.
What have we in the Zub house done? Inquiring minds want to know, right? If you're not waiting for your laptop or Ipad to charge, I'm sure you're glued to my blog. It's about as addictive as the Weather Channel, huh?
Hurricane Sandy Preparations: A Dozen Things We've Done
1. Forget on Friday that you could lose power on Monday, and that fridges and freezes are run by electric power in our house. How did this forgetfulness manifest itself? Well, hubby and I were in a vulnerable state of mind--and stomach--just as a Capital Meats truck pulled up at 6:30 pm. We were literally pulling into our driveway ourselves. The driver/salesman
2. Patronize Walmart for the first time in over a year. I didn't want to do it; I hate Walmart, but it was really convenient from where my daughter and I happened to be. We were out of dog food, and I also wanted to pick up a big box of powdered milk to go with the bottled water to go with the umpteen boxes of cereal I previously stocked up on--, some gluten-free, and some for the rest of the family. To my surprise, Walmart also had some batteries left. And not to my surprise, my hubby ran around town with the youngin and got essentials for us--you know, . Diet Dr. Pepper and V8 Splash. And sunflower seeds. To each his own, right?
3. Fill the tub with really hot water. It might actually be bearably lukewarm should we need to take a sponge bath on the morrow. It will also flush down things I'd rather not discuss. (Disgus?)
4. Wash all the laundry, including all the sweatpants that I won't even been caught in Walmart wearing. Not that I'd be out of place...
5. Remove all planters, wicker furniture, and pumpkins to the garage. In a hurricane, these decorations are known as projectiles.
6. Stock up on bottled water. Why do I suddenly get really thirsty just knowing I might be hunkering down for a couple days? I mean, it's not like I won't find running water somewhere on the premises!!! Hello?
7. Round up the flashlights. Put them near a stack of real books for reading, otherwise known around here as "vintage entertainment."
8. Laugh at the neighbors who spent an hour and half blowing leaves off their lawn yesterday.
We sit and watch angels flap their wings over our lawn and whoosh them away!
9. Stock up on toilet paper. A must-have item, hurricane or no hurricane.
10. Gas up all the vehicles. Never know when we might need to drive them and ourselves and all our descendants and
11. Communicate with my folks. They're fine; in fact, they're the most prepared people on the planet. We take our cues from them as we pray and go over our checklists, and wait, and pray some more, and go over our checklists, and wait...
12. Bake peanut butter cookies. I am not one to bake for pleasure. It takes a threat of natural disaster to get me to pull out the flour, sugar, soda, mixing bowls, and all that stuff, but I am well aware that we need our protein. And we need it to be easy to find in the dark, and not to require refrigeration. Score 3 for Sandy.