Last summer my husband and I decided to ride out Hurricane Irene in the Hamptons. Bad choice. We were without power for almost three days. It was dark and rainy and windy. Very caveman, in fact. We had a special guest with us for awhile… Al the Pool Shark. We tried to get him to fly down here to sit through this storm too, but he’s safely ensconced in Manhattan and not budging (selfish!!!).
We had been told that our apartment building in Soho was being evacuated, which is why we had decided to stay out East. Meanwhile, nothing happened in Soho (where we live) but the Hamptons was a big rainy, windy mess.
Now, a year later, here we sit in Delray Beach, waiting for Tropical Storm Isaac. Friday night I drove to West Palm Beach airport to pick my husband up. His plane was an hour late and guess what? When it finally landed they were in Fort Lauderdale, rather than West Palm. Plane diverted. The storm that night was frightening. Thunder and lightening. Torrential rains. I drove back to Delray Beach, almost unable to see the road in front of me. Thank goodness I had my co-pilot Lorrie beside me. We couldn’t see the divider lines on the highway. I was frightened that a truck would crash into us. At 11:45 my husband finally made it home, Lorrie and I already safely back in town.
Today we’re supposed to fly back to New York. The winds are 53 MPH here right now. The rain is intermittent but fierce when it falls. Personally, I wouldn’t mind so much if we are stuck here for another day or two. I have not had a moment of stress or anxiety since I arrived. So unlike my life in the Big Apple.
I miss my dog so much, which is the main reason I want to get back, but otherwise I’m perfectly content where I am. My son is here. My husband is here. What more could I ask for?
Rain, rain go away.