Escape from Grey Gardens

Have a few minutes to post the last 3 days entries. Please excuse the mess.
-----------

Typing this up on the laptop, hoping I can get online later when it’s safe enough to go outside and fire up the generator. I think the phone line may be dead so no DSL, so maybe moot.

Power went out around 10 AM. It’s now about 4:30. We have been through the wars since then—they say on the radio this is the worst BR has ever had it, windwise. We would up getting hurricane force since Big Fat Ugly Slob Gustav took a turn north. The gusts have been incredible. Even Gary, veteran of Betsy and Andrew and Camille, says this is much worse. We lost part of the garage roof, the toolshed roof is peeling up, one whole and one half cedar tree are toppled (I can smell the wood), a hackberry tree weirdly kind of just exploded, a large hunk of the remaining big old magnolia came down, countless huge oak and pecan branches strewn, one blocking the whole end of the driveway, and 2 of the porch rocking chairs took off across the yard (may be salvageable—we thought as we had laid them all down and tucked them far in they would be okay). The yard is a dreadful mess, and I see shingles out there—crap. About noon I discovered my windows upstairs need to be re-glazed, so I’ve got towels rolled up on all the windowsills. I am sick unto death of the sound of the wind. Roar, roar, roar. I took a shower a few minutes ago and it was so lovely to have the water mask that damn roar.

We hear CBS affiliate WAFB on the radio and they are totting up the damage. My guess is we’ll be off the grid for at least a week but I hope not. It’s hard to get back to work and do your cleaning up without power. My sister said on the phone they saw reports of overtopped levees in NO but I haven’t heard anything more.

Hattie kind of shut down and spent most of her day in the bed. Every now and again we joined her. Beckett has slept most of the day on his dog bed, but Scout has been just a mess, trembling and panting and stuck on my leg like a burr, poor sweetie. Sonny has been quiet. Around the time the power went I saw the kitties huddled in the wheel well of Gary’s truck which is parked next to the porch. EdieorShackleton hopped from there to the bench and miaowed at me. I think they went under the house from there. I hope so; it has been brutal outside.

On the radio there’s a lot of brouhaha over the EBR mayor imposing a curfew at 8 PM. People here hate to have their freedom curtailed, but honestly it would be stupid to get in your car and go anywhere now, and once it’s dark there will be no power anywhere and lots of road hazards. So good for the mayor.

I’ve been trying to call Gary’s mom every hour but I think her phone must be out. She did not want to leave her house but 2 friends are supposed to be staying with her. We had a plan to go check on her after the wind dies down but that is no longer a possibility. I wish she had a cell phone. Maybe I will now insist on that.

The worst exhausting news is something I just caught the end of: Hannah becoming a hurricane and heading for the gulf, with another suspicious looking tropic depression behind her. I really really hope this is not true or that I misheard. We’ve had enough.
9:30 PM and we have blown out the candles to try to sleep. It’s stuffy in here but we have no window screens (on the list) and it’s still blowy enough out that we’ll just have to swelter. I’d rather have that than every mosquito in the universe in here. We lived large for post-Gyustav tonight: we made spaghetti then fired up the generator to get the frig going, made a quick espresso, then let the fan blow on us while watching the last ever episode of The Wire on DVD on my laptop, which also had to draw juice since my battery is old and won’t make it through a whole DVD.

The radio is maddeningly chatty and not informational. Or I suppose informational but not what I need to hear. Nobody’s talking about the Hanna thing, not a word. I switched it off when they began showing photos and saying “look at that” without describing what that was. Do they seriously think anyone has power and any sort of TV connection to watch it? We’re all on radios out here, yo. My cell won’t work (Network Busy) and the radio is it for lifeline, and they are babbling on about what time lights go out at shelters (like anyone has lights!).

I gather from the few calls I placed earlier and from what info seeps through the blabber on radio that we have been hit harder in BR than anyone thought possible, that this is the worst storm for us ever, that the roads are a mess and trees are down everywhere and there’s property damage and no electric anywhere. My colleague Tracy and her husband went to campus to try to catch some LSU power from the generators there and see what was going on, once the winds were below 30 mph. They planned to watch movies in her office and cool down their small daughter, plus distract her. But Tracy said the campus had no power, that everything was dark and locked up, and that moreover the campus was a mess, and the quad looked like someone had bombed it. Evidently it was a wind tunnel and all the crape myrtles, many of them over 50 years old, were sort of exploded out of the concrete taking the concrete along with them. Afdter the stress of the while day hearing that just made my heart break. I love those trees—there’s not a day at work when I don’t thank the man who planted them, who also happened to be a great friend and mentor to Gary’s dad. We are distraught that ur lovely silverbell tree is gone here but that we can replant. Those crapes will never be replaced. They were almost like sculpture, the way their trunks were so smooth and twisty.

I hear very little to none about people being hurt so I am indulging myself mourning trees.

I also heard all the windows were blown out in an apartment 3 of our grad students were staying in and they spent several anxious hours in the bathroom. They are now at a neighbor’s thank heaven. I wonder what the new ones, who comes from other places, now think of our area. I mean, it was gutsy to come here after Katrina happened, but that must have seemed remote to them in a way. Not no more. But this is a different kind of disaster.

We have 2 days of rain rain rain forecast, now that we’ve made it through the wind. Or almost—there are still some pretty big gusts coming through, whipping and lashing and roaring sounds. Above all I want that sound to cease. I just heard a whump so obviously the branches are still coming down.

Kitties are OK—I stood on the porch and they came out a couple of hours ago. They stormed the door actually, trying to get inside. I stayed on the porch and tried to reassure them for a few minutes, brought them more food and put it back in a leeward corner.

We are OK, I am just worn out.
6 AM Tuesday

Woke up hot, pounding headache, but there was at least a lovely few seconds during which I had forgotten what has happened.
We are on generator again to cool down the frig and make coffee. We also have a lamp plugged in, which cheered me up more than I can say. I woke up several times last night and the deep deep dark was so eerie. This AM I can see a couple of lights across the river through the trees, but mostly that’s Exxon, refining your petrochemicals away. Maybe a building or 2 downtown on generator, likely governmental. Last night on radio our governor shared that although this was “trivial” he had water in his office. Oh, we see, the high and mighty are impacted too. I suppose he meant well but the way he said it made it sound patronizing. Then they let Chertoff have the mic and I have to say I was surprised at my own reaction to him, how angry I still am about Katrina and Rita and the utter incompetence and neglect of that man. That has been mixed up with everything from Gustav—old wounds re-opened.

I wish it would get light out. We need to do the tour and assess the full damage, get a gander at the roof, etc. We know the garage roof is messed up because we saw part of it in the backyard yesterday, but we can’t really see it from the house.

Curfew is over so I suppose people will be staggering out. I miss being in a neighborhood right now. Feels like we are quite alone. But the dogs are cheerful, asking for breakfast.

8 AM
Situation not good. There are so many huge branches down in the driveway we can’t get out. The spiteful tractor won’t start. We dragged one big branch off with Gary’s unreliable truck and then it died. My car is not adequate to the task. And then it began to pour so we went inside to fume and think up plan C. It looks like chainsaw and manual hauling. I hauled what I could but I can’t move some of those branches an inch.

The land line is dead so no DSL so spared the effort of running a line upstairs to get the modem, phone connect, and wireless working. Why did we put that in upstairs anyway? When we are back to normal some things are going to change around here. I do not like feeling this cut off and trapped.

Sonny the parrot is screaming over and over and won’t stop. I’d like to wring his little neck.

In the fallen cedar mess I hear a critter crying but I can’t find it.

I took lots of photos of the carnage, why I don’t know.

The roof looks okay, whew. A few shingles blew off and it will need some patching, otherwise okay. We can’t get to the side of the garage where the roof is off it because there are trees covering the side driveway, completely. I think the garage may be nearly a total loss. What sucks is all of Gary’s tools are inside.

I don’t know why but I keep going at the porch with a broom. There are a billion bits of leaf and leaves and twigs and stuff on it—it looks like someone made salad and tossed it all over the porch. Because everything’s so wet it’s all stuck, so I stab at it with the broom and get not much of anywhere while EdieorShackleton thinks we are playing a game and paws at the broom. None of this accomplishes anything but working off a bit of aggravation.

One thing at a time. Rain lets up a bit, we will be back out clearing the driveway somehow. I got through on one cell call to Tracy and if I want she will come to the end of the drive and get me out of here. I won’t do it but having the option makes me much calmer.

A worry is Gary’s knee. He has a torn something or other and needs surgery on it, had the MRI last week. With all the clearing and such he’s just going to get worse and he’s already in considerable pain. I may need to get help from somewhere, which would demoralize him, but that is just tough beans, mister.

9:30
We got the truck started in a lull in the rain and cleared out the huge branches blocking the way. By the end of that it was pouring & thundering s& we were both muddy and soaked so we hit the showers. Hlfway through mine Gary hollered up he was taking my car to see if the neighbors needed anything refrigerated, which if you ask me was pure pretext to get out of here and I’m really miffed he did not wait for me. It’s so stuffy in the house I’m having to sit damply on the porch holding the broom to push the kitties off me. I brought their food and they ate like they were starving—funny because they ate that way last night too. Poor babies, they are annoying the bejesus out of me trying to climb on me. I don’t want an asthma attack. Since they seem now quite tame I will try to get them adopted when this is all over. I can’t take it any more.

Gary’s back. Pfffft.

11:30 (dammit, I thought it was 2 PM)
Obviously I am struggling here with some major blues. It’s raining too much to do any clean-up, it’s hot and sticky, and I feel all pent up and cut off. Even the prospect of cleaning up, getting out, doing things, isn’t helping much since it seems so overwhelming at the moment. One call came through the cell—a text message that LSU is closed Wednesday and campus clean-up has begun. How lovely.

Gary reports neighbors are just sitting around, no phone no lights, but they have a pile of family there from NO etc so there is some distraction. As much as living out at GGLA gives us, it does not give us a neighborhood—rather a country road dotted every now and again with nice enough folks but most of them are out here to get away from living close to others, and nobody’s much in walking distance even.

I took a short venture out in the car (since I didn’t get the earlier one!) on the pretext of going to the post office, which was hardly necessary and probably stupid. But I am losing my mind pent up here. I saw mostly lots of trees down and branches strewn everywhere, twisted up billboards and signs, and nary an electric light, including streetlights, working. I didn’t go out on the main road but from driving along the road that goes in back of the commercial strip I could see everything was closed.

Here is one small silver lining: the hummingbirds are here in force, all swarming the one feeder I had out (now, why that didn’t blow down I’ll never get, except that it’s in a kind of a lee, btwn house and a big azalea). There must be nothing else for them to eat. I’ll fill up several more feeders in awhile . A few minutes ago one of the hums got stuck in the feeder, wedged between the perch and the part with the holes from which to suck nectar. I’ve never see that happen before. I sat here waiting for him to extract himself, struggling and struggling, then as it seemed he was getting nowhere I went out and gave him a small nudge, and off he went. He was buzzing one wing madly against the feeder as I approached, poor little thing, no doubt terrified. I hope he was not injured. I’ve never touched a hummingbird before, a strange sensation.

Need to ration laptop battery, so nothing until we go back on generator. Phone line is definitely dead so no DSL, no dial-up, no nothing.

I wonder if the media are reporting what has happened here, since even though we are the largest city in LA and the state capital etc. generally we aren’t even marked on the map when national media do any kind of story on LA. We were hit very hard here—nothing like NO with Katrina and the floods—but I wonder if anyone much knows that.

Rain rain rain rain rain dreary mess rain, thunder, glooming skies, rain.

Wednesday, 3/3 8:00 AM
Sticky muggy morning, again the throbbing headache. Yesterday afternoon nothing worked, even the cells, so we just sort of gave up and took a nap. The sister of our 2 doors down neighbor came by—she lives in NO and is still rebuilding from Katrina—with the contents of her freezer since she’d heard we had space. She was headed to Houston for work but afraid the food wouldn’t make it. We packed the freezer with it but IMHO it was already too soft and I won’t touch it later. We are running out of gas for the generator anyway so that will be that.

The neighbors had us over for dinner—cheap wine on the porch and lots of conversation, shrimp and salad, really nice, candelabras in the fancy dining room, then we sat on the porch trying to catch a breeze and swatting mosquitos. It was good to get out of here. The grandson wanted to play Scrabble but nobody much felt in the mood so I invited him to ride his bike down here and bring the Scrabble board. His mom confirmed he’s bored so maybe we can entertain him here (and vice-versa) for a few hours.

But more on our mind this AM is getting to Gary’s mom and finding gas. A call from his sister on Gary’s cell came during supper—migosh I am torturing syntax; it’s the headache—anyway we hears she’s okay but some damage to her house so we need to get there today. Gas is going to be a huge issue. There are long long lines and very few places open. We heard from Gary’s son a few minutes ago who was in line in Walker LA for gas.

Radio this AM full of so much blab I wonder if people have FORGOTTEN how to talk on the radio—of course we are listening to the TV on radio, but do these people seriously think anyone can watch TV at this point? If I get referred to one more website I shall scream. We have no phone line, most people don’t. The cells only work sporadically, and somehow they must be charged up. The electricity is not coming on for weeks, I suspect. They are discussing it right now—in excess of 190 distribution lines are gone, then the substations are all out, then all the networks, prioritized by things like hospitals etc.

I still feel like nobody out in the world knows this is all going on. They just said Bush is coming to BR today. With all due respect for the office, we don’t like this man, and we don’t need him here tying up resources and people and roads and radio waves. We need to know where to get gas and we need help getting electricity back, and we need help cleaning up.

From the radio there is chaos with lines and National Guard distribution centers that are supposed to hand out MREs water tarps etc—people wait for hours and hours and then they say “this is drive-up only” so everyone runs to cars (which of course are running out of gas) and there is pandemonium. This isn’t out in the sticks somewhere—this is BR proper. Nobody knows what where when and even though the radio is full of Jindal talking 80 words a second (the man has never heard of a paragraph break) and then passing the mic to Chertoff (there is a special circle of hell for that man no matter what he does now) to congratulate him on doing such a fine job this time—on the ground, we’re not seeing it. Drive-up only for distribution centers MAKES NO SENSE when nobody has any gas. Duh duh duh.

The line that was chaos is now reporting everyone is leaving because there3 is no ice, no water, no tarps, only MREs. Visit that, Bush.

Just heard the old bridge is out (??!!) and of course there are no ferries so the I-10 bridge is our only way to BR. The weirdest image I have of this whole ordeal is about 1 mile up the river road toward the old bridge. We didn’t see it but the neighbors did and took photos. A power line was down across the road and evidently in the dark a car snagged its axles on it, and the wire caught the car which is standing on one corner, on one headlight more or less, on the side of the road. I will try to get a copy of that photo. It reminds me of a postcard from San Francisco after the earthquake: image of the city skyline and buildings all jumbled up and lying down, with the caption, “BUT HEY, I’M OKAY!”

Here comes the rain again. We are overrun with hummingbirds so I am putting out more food.
If I get to post this anywhere, please y’all, send us electricity and gas. We’ve been making enough of your gas for decades; send some back this way.

10:30 AM
Rain. We spent the AM cleaning the porch of the good wood and doors for the bathroom project that had just been under a tarp (IMHO this should have been done before storm but who listens to me around here?) but was nonetheless soaked and then cleaned up porch salad with a hose. A little order, somewhat, because the porch and house are all pockmarked and will need to paint among other things.

Governor press conference—they pressed Entergy for an estimate with philosophy that the unknown is mopre adversity than knowing. I agree. Entergy cam back with 50% restored in 9 days. Excuse me, but fuck that. Governor said the best thing he has said ever: “That is not acceptable.” Over here across the river at the end of the line my guess is 2 weeks, best case. We are assessing. We are almost out of gas, don’t know if we can find any, and I am feeling sick again. But this may just be from the work this AM and from being way too hot and scared.

If there is no gas and that 2 weeks is accurate I vote for driving out and just getting as far as we can and into a motel with AC that will take dogs. Sonny—god knows. I’ll leave all the food I can for the kitties. Enough dead birds around here to keep them fed for awhile too, and from the look of the wrecked cane fields the rats aren’t far behind.

Kind of in despair here. Gary’s working on an alternative that involves having ready access to gas. I think this is a pipe dream.

Am concerned about insulin pump supplies. I ordered them over a month ago but Minimed hasn’t sent them. I have enough for a couple of weeks, but then what? I can’t get a phone call through.

We can’t think about everything at once, clearly. I have enough syringes to go off pump for awhile and enough brain to figure out how much and when, but the heat is not good for anything I need for this, including brain. I am overheated but ate some stuff with salt and drank water so better now.

Also we hear Ike may go into the gulf next week. If that’s the case we are gone long before he gets here, if we have to walk out.

2 PM
No gas, only one place, a casino, and at leaat 100 cars. Dangerous driving since no lights; people on short fuses. I am typing fast making errors because the phone line came back up, Gary drained the gas on the tractor, & I have a few precisou moments of generated electricity to get this up.

We are okay, but we get mixed signals: radio says don’t go out, but then such & such is open. Water ice MREs & such are delivered amid rumor and much ado and no traffic control & only as drive up when nobody has gas. Gas and electricity are the keys to everything. Please petition whoever is out there to get this to happen. This is no Katrina but BR and area just aren’t equipped to handle what we are handling and that it is politicized is a given so use that.

It’s very hard to lie about and wait—human nature to go out and find stuff, do stuff, but that is really hard since nobody’s doing a good job of telling us where, how, when, what. On TV which we hear on the radio at present all I can tune in are two fucking soap operas. Alos I am concerned that West BR Parish isn’t doing anything. We are a small poor parish and it seems all we hear is East BR. We can’t even get over there at this point.

Tell whoever—the National Guard—that making supply drops drive thru only is absurd and tying up roads so that emergency and electric vehicles can’t get through. Rethink that and fast. Get some gas out here, get some electicity to gas stations so they can pump what they have. And send electricians. The governor is right: 50% at 9 days is unacceptable. People will die.