So, we’re still kind of sitting in the cone of uncertainty, waiting with bated breath for the worst that hurricane Frances may throw our way. The storm has been moving more and more slowly towards the coast over the past few days, and it’s only now coming ashore in southern Florida and wreaking its hurricane havoc.
Up here in the northern part of the state, things have been pretty normal so far - in an oddly anticipatory sort of way. We finished our hurricane preparations well ahead of time, so for the past few days we’ve been living in a boarded-up house, and we’ve watched as more and more houses and shops around town have been closed down and boarded up as well. Our restaurant options have become severely limited, but we’ve been trying not to break into our “hurricane rations”, which - most temptingly - include such life necessities as donuts and chips and salsa.
Mostly, we and the rest of the state have just been glued to the Weather Channel, trying to figure out what’s going to happen and when. For a long time, it was hard to believe that anything at all was going to happen. Yesterday morning we were still sitting on the beach and frolicking in the (rather choppy) water, and up until yesterday afternoon, the weather was fine. But conditions did finally start to deteriorate last night, and all day today the winds have gotten stronger and stronger, whipping up the surf, blasting sand across the beach, and causing the palm trees in the yard to bend and creak rather alarmingly.
Before the wind picked up today, though, Jeremy, my brother and I managed to get in a few last-minute, holiday-like activities: we were the last customers to enjoy a tasty lunch at the funky Cafe Eleven before they took down their “Open” sign and put up their hurricane shutters; we did a spot of shopping for beach gear (which has now become rather unnecessary); and we played a somewhat illogical, but intensely enjoyable, round of miniature golf.
Take that, Frances!