One year ago today: September 29, 2021, sorry-ass “handicap” bookshelves.
Five years ago today: September 29, 2017, memories of typing class.
Nine years ago today: September 29, 2013, storm anniversary coincidence.
Random years ago today: September 29, 2012, why so crabby?
I awoke to a glorious dead calm and silence. Not even the hum of the air conditioners. It’s twikight but let’s tour the perimeter and log the damages. No wind or rain, a very pleasant 72ºF. This quiet is so rare. Tons of deadfall on the streets and every yard has twigs and branches. No sign of structural damage. It will take a day to rake up this mess. Civic-minded that I am, I raked the limbs and debris shown here off the street while it was cool. Then my yard and part of the neighbor’s before I ran out of steam. My papaya tree is now growing at an angle, same as you see coconut trees leaning on tropical beaches.
I grabbed coffee and a breakfast sandwich, noticing most people around me obviously hit by the storm without preparation. Some of them were stuck with empty gas tank under the canopy, unable to drive home unless they turn the pumps back on. A tuna salad sandwich is now $5.75. Other hungry people were waiting for the ATMs to come back, as the ability to make change or hand-press a credit card are lost skills to millennial America.
The lights were on at Harbor Freight but as I parked, the lady outside said closed. None of the staff showed up, she said, and there were only two supervisors inside, neither of whom knew how to work the cash registers manually. She must have seen me roll my eyes because she said they loose a fortune in sales of emergency gear every time this happens because nobody knows how to conduct sales manually. I’ve known for thirty years the average US store clerk cannot make change for a dollar. No, it supervisory staff that can’t. First thing I’d do is install an old manual cash register. From what she said, I gather they lose around $35,000 in sales each day when this happens.
The wind is gone, it is a dead calm at 71ºF. I took the back road to the east and they got hit much harder. That’s where I mentioned seeing all the lightning last night. Ha, the southwest in of Winter Haven has some pretty rich neighborhoods, but the side roads still flood. The county roads are high and dry, so it is neat to see some millionaire in his mansion because his 800 foot driveway is under three feet of water.
Paris shopping center.
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Back home, still no power, so I toured the property again. All my potted plants survived. I used spare cinder blocks to make up a small rocket stove in case I need lots of hot water. One of my quirks is I cannot shave or shower cold or even luke-warm water. As before, the neighbors have electric back already but my little enclave must be a no-priority zone. Either that or we are second class citizens and nobody told us. I hauled out the camp stove and made up all the remaining perishable food in the place. Mainly eggs, which I happen to like.
The hard part is done and the sun is setting. Still no phone service, so I hauled out the gear I’ll be taking with me when I decide to head north. The hillbilly left behind one of those memory foam mats. Not the mattress, but one of those slabs you put on top to fake it. If it’s doubled over, it makes a somewhat comfortable surface which still needs help. I packed up most of what I need and tested my tablet, the one I use as a mini-computer on the road. It is shot, even with the power plugged in, the battery will not hold a charge enough to complete the circuit. It randomly shuts down. Where will I ever find another RCA like that? They have small tablets, but they are kid’s toys with no word processor capability.
I finally figured to hell with this. The lights were on at the old club, so I stopped in and wrote letters. It was also quiet, just a few of the regulars. No TV, no juke box, no Internet, cash only, it was my kind of place for a change. Once again I seemed the only one in the building capable of doing anything productive with the system down. Around 8:30PM one of them received a phone call, meaning cell service was back and within moments they had all assumed the position.
There is not really enough light over there to read, but I do anyway. Strange how nobody has ever called me a nerd in that place. Maybe my chicken coop story got around and they figure I must be okay. The matter of the gas lantern got mulled over and one of the reasons I’m downtown spending money instead of home with a nice coffee at my comfortable desk. You know the lamp I mean, it fits on a gas a gas can, the kind I already know how to refill. When I tally things up, that is the least finicky portable system that does not deteriorate in storage. For that matter, I don’t store them, I leave them hanging because I know where to find them in the dark. That takes the pressure off my battery lamps, which are the only ones I’ll use if there’s any chance of me falling asleep.
