Storm Prep–Sorta

As I write on this late Thursday afternoon, September 5, it’s begun to rain where I live in the coastal plains of eastern North Carolina, but there’s no significant wind yet. We’re not to be fooled, though, according to the weather forecasters who are babbling nonstop on the local channels: Hurricane Dorian is coming.

Sooo, I’ve prepared, sorta. There were a dozen bales of pine straw I felt compelled to spread this morning to cover the bare earth left by a recent building project. My husband thinks this task was unnecessary and jokes that pine needles will be flying into the neighbor’s yard. My theory is the rain will make the pine straw heavy enough that gale force winds–should any arrive–won’t disturb it. Looked nice when I finished, don’t you think (other than the dead grass)?

fresh pine straw

On to more traditional hurricane prep, I took flower pots, chimes, and an orange bird house off my baker’s rack and plant stand on the porch. I gambled on not toting items to the new storage building or the garage but simply set everything on the porch behind the brick.

items on porch

When there’s no wind stirring, it’s hard to imagine wrought iron chairs and a big gas grill becoming projectiles. I decided to leave the outdoor furniture and grill where they were and hope for the best.

chairs on porch

I got a text from my candidate of choice for Rocky Mount City Council, Ward 5, asking that campaign yard signs be put away during the hurricane. I have complied. Don’t judge my messy garage.

Lige sign

And of course, I made a final grocery run. I’d already stocked up on milk and bread, but forgot water. Why do we need water? I really don’t know. Even during the worst of Hurricane Floyd, the taps worked. We had all the drinking water we wanted and just as important, could flush the commode. Still, the hurricane prep experts tell us to stock up on water, so I bought a 24-pack.

final grocery haul

The rain’s picked up some since I started writing, and my cell phone just emitted a shrill tornado warning followed a couple of minutes later by another shrill flash flood warning. This morning, it was hard to believe a hurricane was approaching as I looked out over my peaceful backyard, spying an okra bloom under the crepe myrtle.


I hope as you read this, my hometown has been spared the brunt of Hurricane Dorian and my half-hearted preparations have proved adequate.

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