I suppose I'm happy to be working from home today, and not going to the office or even to Mt. Pleasant at all. But when you're a true coastal gal who has been through way worse, a few rain bands and some wind doesn't quite make me want to head for the hills.
Hurricane Hugo back in 1989 wasn't as bad as Hurricane Katrina, but for South Carolina it was an absolutely terrifying night. I remember sleeping in my grandmother's bed along with my grandmother, sister, AND mother--we were all scared to death. All night long we heard trees creaking and the house creaking. We tried to peep through the windows with our flashlights, but we saw nothing--it was like looking into opaque blackness. Now that I look back on it, why would we want to see? The sight of trees bending that far to the ground would not be comforting.
The next morning, the sky was blue and the air was filled with the fragrance of sap from broken limbs. My mother's new Toyota had been crushed by a Pine that fell on top of our carport. Our beach house in Litchfield was flooded. The power was out and neighbors walked the streets, helping each other out. My friend Gayden and I mourned the loss of a particular tree we loved.
Today, I'm sitting at home with Genessa, just like in January when we had the ice storm scare. I'm eating leftover macaroni and conducting phone interviews. It seems like a pretty regular day, aside from some windy rain.
Irene, thanks for the time off, and thanks for sparing Charleston the worst of you.