As I left work yesterday, I saw an interesting site: a convoy of at least twenty utility trucks, heading to wherever they’re kept at night. It was like a homecoming parade: people waving and cars honking their horns in support.
I’m on day 8 of no power (or hot water) at home. The 19th century lifestyle is getting old. What really rubs the salt in the wounds is that my neighborhood is the only one in my area that hasn’t had power restored. In fact, my house backs up to a major road and I can see the streetlamps from my backyard. In the meantime my wife and son are staying at my already crowded in-laws while I play the vagabond and sleep wherever I may roam, so to speak.
FEMA, in all their glory, contacted me and told me they’d reimburse at their per diem rate any hotel until my house is “livable” again. Problem is I can’t find a hotel with rooms anywhere in a 30 mile radius of where I work. If I weren’t scheduled this weekend I’d be seriously inclined to drive to Austin or San Antonio just to have a brief respite after last weekend’s festivities.
I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining– I’m fortunate my property took no damage and my family is safe, fed, and warm. I know many even this far north that received extensive damage. I think we’re all just ready for a return to normalcy around here.
In related but unfortunate news, there’s now a tropical wave entering the Caribbean that has a decent potential for developing into yet another cyclone. If that comes anywhere near the upper Texas coast, we’re screwed.