I know it’s just the front edge of Hurricane Irene, but so far all we’ve got is just a drizzly, gray day. It seems a little anticlimactic after spending the morning tying down the lawn furniture and clearing the porch of loose items. I’ve been in a quandary about the the prayer flags:
My cousin Pete brought them to us from Tibet, so on the one hand I want to take very good care of them. On the other hand, I believe they are supposed to blow around a lot for prayers to be answered. A hurricane seems like prayer flag bonanza. They’re located right outside the living room window, so I think I’ll keep an eye out that they don’t blow right away, but we also have laughing Buddha out there, and he seems to be pretty dry so far.
And, he doesn’t seem too concerned. I find that very calming. For some reason, I get stressed by weather related alarmists. The more the newscasters report on potential disasters, the more I watch and read about it. Maybe it’s some leftover issue from being at summer camp during Hurricane Agnes — except that my memories of that are not at all negative. At 11 year old, it was really just an adventure more than anything else.
Maybe I’m still harboring anxiety from the great blizzard of 1996 — the one year I was not prepared for the weather. I was stranded in Boston after going on a ski trip (best conditions ever by the way, and then the blizzard hit). Luckily, I was stranded at my friends’ apartment, and after a few days of back and forth between Chestnut Hill and Logan Airport (hello Green Line!), I finally flew home.
Long story short, I’d been away from my apartment for almost 2 weeks, and my refrigerator was empty. The roads were still awful and driving to the store was out of the question. A quickie mart was a 10 minute walk away on a main road (in good weather) and seemed my best option. But after trudging though banks of snow as high as my hips, I arrived to find empty shelves — no bread, no milk. Fortunately there was cat food for my cat, and there was some powdered milk still available and instant coffee. Saddest shopping trip ever.
Fast forward to today, and we have all our provisions in place. I’m not turning the television on all afternoon. Why should I? I know the local reporter will be down at the Harbor, another will be in front of a pile of sand. The weather will do what it will do, and we have food, books, flashlights, and alcohol. We’ll be fine.