Hurricane Refugees

I remember when we lived in Corpus Christi and hurricanes targeted us. The
first time I had a planned meeting in San Antonio, hotel prepaid. But DH
and DS (then a teenager) stayed with my older brother's family (3 teen
girls) in the Alamo city. My SIL's sister came in from Houston with her 2
teen boys. If you lost count, that is SIX teenaged cousins in the same
large house when the weather is acting up. As any teacher can tell you,
when a storm is blowing in, the kids get antsy and noisy. I was delighted
to be forced to stay in the hotel.
Driving home after all the hollering and blowing, the most cheerful sight
was the convoys of Southwestern Bell repair trucks and other trucks with
power company logos on the sides.
Another hurricane, years later, blew past while DH was on duty in Florida
and DS in Austin. Both of them and my brother called repeatedly to say I
should get to San Antonio. But I was coming down with a bug, and didn't
want to drive that far. As it happened, the hurricane came inland south of
CC, taking a few roofs off barns and sheds, but no really great damage. It
dumped some much-needed water on parched fields.
The next day, I was prostrate on my bed, my hand on DS's dog's head. Poor
Boofer had not liked all the wind and rain and was still upset. The
doorbell rang and Boofer barked loud and long enough to wake the dead --
which I almost was. I levitated about 2 feet off the mattress and staggered
to the door. My callers were 2 Jehovah's Witnesses, bringing the Word. I
could barely stand up and was sweating profusely. Finally, I said I wasn't
at all well and needed to go back to bed.
Back to bed and to sleep, my hand again on Boofer's head. The bell rang
again, Boofer leaped up again, throwing my hand off his head, and once more
woke the dead. This time, it was UPS with a package for my absent
neighbors. Yes, I would keep it inside until they got home. Just go away
and let me sleep.
Staggering back to bed, Boofer was so concerned about me that he kept
rubbing against my legs and throwing my precarious balance off. I collapsed
onto the bed, but didn't have my hand off the side as before. He put his
front legs on the bed, took my hand in his mouth, and lay back down on the
floor with my hand once more on his head where it belonged.
Once more the doorbell rang. Once more Boofer's alarums had me rising up in
a horizontal position. The neighbors had come home and were very grateful
that I had their package. They would have hated to miss it until the
following day. Wasn't it great that the storm bypassed us, while dropping
all that needed rain on the fields? They finally noticed that I wasn't my
usual perky self, thanked me once more, and went home.
All right! If Boofer isn't right beside me, I can ignore the doorbell.
I'll just put him in the back yard and get some sleep!
The doorbell rang and rang and rang. I give up! I staggered to the front
door where a young man with a belt full of tools and a Southwestern Bell ID
card asked me if I would bring the dog into the house. The storm had
knocked down the phone lines into my back yard and the dog would not let him
into the yard to fix it.
At that point I knew that rest was not in my future. I brought pillows to
prop me up on the sofa and was finally able to sleep without visitors.
I hope that Isabel's refugees have no worse hurricane experiences than I
did.

Nell in Austin

OOer! What a sorry sight you must have been by the end of it all! Poor
you! Poor dog!
--
Kate XXXXXX
Lady Catherine, Wardrobe Mistress of the Chocolate Buttons
http://www.diceyhome.free-online.co.uk
Click on Kate's Pages and explore!

Hi Nell. You need to remember to put OT - before your non quilty posts. Some
don't have time to read all the notes and will block OT's. Make sure you
use - and not : as outlook express strips off anything before : in a subject
line.

Thanks.


--
LN in NH
a crazy quilter * hand quilter * & hand appliquér
all in all --- a very slow quilter.... So send quilts!
http://photos.yahoo.com/lns_obsessed

"Nell Reynolds" wrote in message
.. .
I remember when we lived in Corpus Christi and hurricanes targeted us.
The
first time I had a planned meeting in San Antonio, hotel prepaid. But DH
and DS (then a teenager) stayed with my older brother's family (3 teen
girls) in the Alamo city. My SIL's sister came in from Houston with her 2
teen boys. If you lost count, that is SIX teenaged cousins in the same
large house when the weather is acting up. As any teacher can tell you,
when a storm is blowing in, the kids get antsy and noisy. I was delighted
to be forced to stay in the hotel.
Driving home after all the hollering and blowing, the most cheerful sight
was the convoys of Southwestern Bell repair trucks and other trucks with
power company logos on the sides.
Another hurricane, years later, blew past while DH was on duty in Florida
and DS in Austin. Both of them and my brother called repeatedly to say I
should get to San Antonio. But I was coming down with a bug, and didn't
want to drive that far. As it happened, the hurricane came inland south
of
CC, taking a few roofs off barns and sheds, but no really great damage.
It
dumped some much-needed water on parched fields.
The next day, I was prostrate on my bed, my hand on DS's dog's head. Poor
Boofer had not liked all the wind and rain and was still upset. The
doorbell rang and Boofer barked loud and long enough to wake the dead --
which I almost was. I levitated about 2 feet off the mattress and
staggered
to the door. My callers were 2 Jehovah's Witnesses, bringing the Word. I
could barely stand up and was sweating profusely. Finally, I said I
wasn't
at all well and needed to go back to bed.
Back to bed and to sleep, my hand again on Boofer's head. The bell rang
again, Boofer leaped up again, throwing my hand off his head, and once
more
woke the dead. This time, it was UPS with a package for my absent
neighbors. Yes, I would keep it inside until they got home. Just go away
and let me sleep.
Staggering back to bed, Boofer was so concerned about me that he kept
rubbing against my legs and throwing my precarious balance off. I
collapsed
onto the bed, but didn't have my hand off the side as before. He put his
front legs on the bed, took my hand in his mouth, and lay back down on the
floor with my hand once more on his head where it belonged.
Once more the doorbell rang. Once more Boofer's alarums had me rising up
in
a horizontal position. The neighbors had come home and were very grateful
that I had their package. They would have hated to miss it until the
following day. Wasn't it great that the storm bypassed us, while dropping
all that needed rain on the fields? They finally noticed that I wasn't my
usual perky self, thanked me once more, and went home.
All right! If Boofer isn't right beside me, I can ignore the doorbell.
I'll just put him in the back yard and get some sleep!
The doorbell rang and rang and rang. I give up! I staggered to the front
door where a young man with a belt full of tools and a Southwestern Bell
ID
card asked me if I would bring the dog into the house. The storm had
knocked down the phone lines into my back yard and the dog would not let
him
into the yard to fix it.
At that point I knew that rest was not in my future. I brought pillows to
prop me up on the sofa and was finally able to sleep without visitors.
I hope that Isabel's refugees have no worse hurricane experiences than I
did.

Nell in Austin