Tropical Storm Fey Update: My husband and I went through the eye of Tropical Storm Fey this morning, and we now have a lake in our tiny backyard. We lost power for a while, but other than a few pine cones landing on our roof--no major damage.
I did, however, decide to entertain everyone with a little list of ways that you can know you have weathered too many hurricanes, and I've even named the hurricane, when applicable.
You Know You've Weathered Too Many Hurricanes When...
- You know the Weather Channel anchors and reporters on a first name basis, and you feel as though they are personal friends--even though you've never met them.
- You've actually driven to the site where the Weather Channel reporter (Jim Cantore) is filming...gotten his autograph...on your foul weather gear jacket...next to the autograph of the guy who was here two years ago for Hurricane Wilma (Anderson Cooper). (Uh-hem, Sasha....)
- You have said, "It's only a Category 1 hurricane. I might bring in my wind chimes." (Uh-hem, Mom! Actually, my mom left the wind chimes out through this one.)
- You can tell what direction it is by looking at which way the trees are listing from the last hurricane. (Since Hurricane Wilma, all of our trees point slightly south. I'm not joking.)
- You keep 5 gallons of water in your garage through the summer to save yourself a trip to the store.
- You once stockpiled canned goods and other non-perishable items before each hurricane. Now you buy a loaf of bread, peanut butter, and jelly. (Uh-hem, Jill...)
- Names like Wilma, Charlie, Ivan, Rita, Hugo, Katrina, and Andrew leave a bad taste in your mouth. (Don't say Donna does, or you'll reveal your age!)
- You have, at one time or another, planned to evacuate from an oncoming hurricane to your friend's house 3 hours north, only to have the storm change direction and entertain those same friends at your house.
- You still keep your old, battery-powered boom box around so you can hear the radio when your electric goes out.
- You know that the easiest way to find out if your power has been turned back on (if you've evacuated) is to call your house and see if your answering machine picks up.
- You stopped boarding up your house after Hurricane Andrew (or Wilma) when you watched the wind rip the boards off your windows and turn those boards into projectiles. (Uh-hem, Gretchen...)
- You have held a street-wide barbecue to get rid of your meat before it rots in your non-working refrigerator.
- You know that "sustained winds" don't mean anything. "Gusts" and "micro bursts" will kill you.
- You've watched your bedroom window explode OUTWARDS because of the low pressure outside. (Me, Hurricane Andrew--not fun.)
- Hurricane parties excite you.