The fabulous FranIAm, friend of the multitudes, has posted on the state of things.
I am just briefly online, having taught my morning class (BLEAH! work on Labor Day!? but I couldn't have the little darlings skip the Council of Nicea, it would mess up the rest of the course, and they are very nice students indeed) and canceled my office hours, and am headed home. To my new home. Still some things (disaster-contaminated) to go through at the old home, but that's not till tomorrow since the disaster recovery people (who don't work Labor Day Weekend) come back then.
The movers, however, worked all weekend, bless their hearts.
I am exhausted, my feet hurt (from standing and packing and ordering people around and/or answering questions), but things really are okay and as I have said before, the situation could have been much worse. Most of my stuff is fine since only one room was destroyed, and we were able to recover many clothes and my grandfather's dresser (they don't make 'em like that any more) and my guitar. The guitar case is kind of a mess, but it was strong and I think the instrument is okay.
+Maya Pavlova and I have had a couple of agitated nights with all this moving and staying in different places and last night, our first in the new place, was also restless even though I felt tired enough to sleep for two days. Her Grace the feline bishop had to explore every corner of the new house and jump on every box (of which the house is full) and I had aching feet. Finally +Maya discovered the perch I had made for her (pictures coming in the next few weeks) from a piece of furniture the landlady had in the house already and when I left she was seated there, looking out the window at a groundhog waddling across the grass.
Thinking of Mimi and other Gulf Coast friends as the storm approaches and lands.
THANKS to so many of you who have written and posted. Your thoughts and prayers are a great support.
And thanks again to the one and only Doxy for first posting the news.
More when I can. Still no internet at the new place since it's Labor Day. I am headed out of the office now and home to boxes. A friend is going to bring me lunch and help me do some unpacking in the afternoon.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
Don't ask, don't meow: a disaster update
Whew.
I have limited access to the 'net because the WiFi at the college guest house doesn't work, the internet at my erstwhile house is kaput, and I haven't been in the office until now except for one unfortunate half hour earlier this afternoon.
But here I am. I have had a little walk, my hot flashes and I are in the air conditioned quiet office at work, the computer is humming, and sometime I will have a chance to watch Barack Obama's speech online. Probably not tonight, but soon. I missed the speech because a friend wined and dined me last night (the second glass of wine was his fault, all his fault, so there) to Get Me Away From It All. Yes, the meal involved serious protein. Fish, in fact, and a great cheese course.
Today was, in a word, nuts. The tree people came yesterday and removed the tree (actually one tree and a section of another) and today the professional disaster recovery people came. I keep saying it all could have been much worse, and it is true. I am also getting a small, ever so small glimpse of what people's lives are like when a natural disaster strikes and strikes big. I was almost paralyzed part of the day, emotionally and mentally. Too much hitting at once, too many decisions to make, the shock of seeing my bedroom full of ceiling insulation and tree branches and knowing my grandparents' bed which is probably a hundred years old was underneath there. Last night I remembered that the panda bear my grandfather (from the other side of the family) gave my brother when he was one year old (in 1943!) was in that room and might not in any shape to be recovered -- a family stuffed animal I have dragged around with me to every place I have lived, informing my brother at each step that his panda was still in one piece. Little if any of this has been about money, at least the bedroom part. It has been hugely about family and love and sentiment. I don't care what the jewelery cost or whether it was "real" or costume jewelry (mostly it is the latter). I do care that my mother gave it to me or my aunt willed it to me or my grandmother once wore it or my friends gave it to me for my fortieth birthday.
There is, of course, the money side. The college insurance, thanks be to Jesus and the insurance companies (never though I'd say THAT and must tell the insurance exec ex-boyfriend who will howl with laughter -- he knows my lefty proclivities) will pay for my move. More difficult is the search for an affordable place to rent for me, the cat, my gazillions of books (no, there is no more room at my office, these are the house books), and my stuff. I was renting from the college at below market value, though not too too far below. And of course who wants to move the second week of school, on Labor Day Weekend when we don't get Labor Day off? That's right, we don't get Labor Day off. Don't get me started. I am trying to stay polite and cheery here. I teach at 8:30 Monday morning. So I have a litte window of today, tomorrow, and Sunday to get my life back together and if I find a place, move.
Anyway -- the disaster relief people. I will write more about them later. I just realized I am due at dinner at a neighbor's house, but I must tell you the Don't Ask, Don't Meow story.
I smuggled Her Grace into the college guest house, into the small but nicely appointed room where we have stayed for the last two nights. A few clothes that weren't in the bedroom, toilet articles (no damage to the main bathroom -- really I am very lucky), a small litter box (carefully placed on a large plastic bag), a dresser and big bed, not much floor space, and the cat and I. It was, I admit, a case of Don't Ask, Don't Meow. It was nighttime when the tree hit, the security and facilities staff said not to leave the cat in my house, I had a room to stay at the guest house and the key, so I snuck Maya Pavlova in, reminding her that she was generally an Out and Proud Feline but that this was a brief keep-quiet circumstance. She was mostly fine with it.
So I get into the office a few hours ago to check mail and there is a message on my voice mail from the guest-house manager (who also works for another division of the college) saying "The woman who cleans the house heard a cat in your room. Please remove the cat." She said several other sentences about why, but the gist of it was "remove the cat." No preliminaries, as in "Hello Jane, so sorry to hear a tree fell on your house and you are homeless, I realize you want your cat with you but unfortunately we can't accommodate her," or something of the sort. Just "remove the cat."
So I called a colleague and asked if I could board Her Grace with her (mercifully she lives nearby) and she said yes. I went to the guest house, "removed the cat" (this time Maya Pavlova slid into the cat carrier and didn't scratch me till I bled, which she had the night of the big adventure, but she was traumatized at the time - she did try to hide under the bed this time, but not for long) and moved her and her accoutrements into her new digs, went back to my soon to be ex-house to inhale some more particulate matter (I'm saying this to sound dramatic, actually the nice people gave me a mask which I wear when I need it) and decided that I would remove myself from the guest house as well. So I am sleeping on my colleague's floor tonight. No cat, no Jane. Where the cat goes, Jane goes. Harrumph!
I have a lead on a house which I visited this afternoon. I think it may work out. It is smaller than where I live and less beautiful, but sweet and workable and with a larger kitchen than where I am now. My foodie heart rejoices. It also has a little garden and yard beyind with a grapevine and a fig tree! Can you say "biblical image" ??!! The price is workable. The deposit is quite large, though, but I may be able to swing it.
I am off to dine with colleague and daughters and cat now. MEOW!
More updates when I can. I am really tired and there may be people putting things in boxes in the house tomorrow. Thanks for all your kind notes, prayers, virtual hugs, warm thoughts, and friendship. They mean a lot to me.
I have limited access to the 'net because the WiFi at the college guest house doesn't work, the internet at my erstwhile house is kaput, and I haven't been in the office until now except for one unfortunate half hour earlier this afternoon.
But here I am. I have had a little walk, my hot flashes and I are in the air conditioned quiet office at work, the computer is humming, and sometime I will have a chance to watch Barack Obama's speech online. Probably not tonight, but soon. I missed the speech because a friend wined and dined me last night (the second glass of wine was his fault, all his fault, so there) to Get Me Away From It All. Yes, the meal involved serious protein. Fish, in fact, and a great cheese course.
Today was, in a word, nuts. The tree people came yesterday and removed the tree (actually one tree and a section of another) and today the professional disaster recovery people came. I keep saying it all could have been much worse, and it is true. I am also getting a small, ever so small glimpse of what people's lives are like when a natural disaster strikes and strikes big. I was almost paralyzed part of the day, emotionally and mentally. Too much hitting at once, too many decisions to make, the shock of seeing my bedroom full of ceiling insulation and tree branches and knowing my grandparents' bed which is probably a hundred years old was underneath there. Last night I remembered that the panda bear my grandfather (from the other side of the family) gave my brother when he was one year old (in 1943!) was in that room and might not in any shape to be recovered -- a family stuffed animal I have dragged around with me to every place I have lived, informing my brother at each step that his panda was still in one piece. Little if any of this has been about money, at least the bedroom part. It has been hugely about family and love and sentiment. I don't care what the jewelery cost or whether it was "real" or costume jewelry (mostly it is the latter). I do care that my mother gave it to me or my aunt willed it to me or my grandmother once wore it or my friends gave it to me for my fortieth birthday.
There is, of course, the money side. The college insurance, thanks be to Jesus and the insurance companies (never though I'd say THAT and must tell the insurance exec ex-boyfriend who will howl with laughter -- he knows my lefty proclivities) will pay for my move. More difficult is the search for an affordable place to rent for me, the cat, my gazillions of books (no, there is no more room at my office, these are the house books), and my stuff. I was renting from the college at below market value, though not too too far below. And of course who wants to move the second week of school, on Labor Day Weekend when we don't get Labor Day off? That's right, we don't get Labor Day off. Don't get me started. I am trying to stay polite and cheery here. I teach at 8:30 Monday morning. So I have a litte window of today, tomorrow, and Sunday to get my life back together and if I find a place, move.
Anyway -- the disaster relief people. I will write more about them later. I just realized I am due at dinner at a neighbor's house, but I must tell you the Don't Ask, Don't Meow story.
I smuggled Her Grace into the college guest house, into the small but nicely appointed room where we have stayed for the last two nights. A few clothes that weren't in the bedroom, toilet articles (no damage to the main bathroom -- really I am very lucky), a small litter box (carefully placed on a large plastic bag), a dresser and big bed, not much floor space, and the cat and I. It was, I admit, a case of Don't Ask, Don't Meow. It was nighttime when the tree hit, the security and facilities staff said not to leave the cat in my house, I had a room to stay at the guest house and the key, so I snuck Maya Pavlova in, reminding her that she was generally an Out and Proud Feline but that this was a brief keep-quiet circumstance. She was mostly fine with it.
So I get into the office a few hours ago to check mail and there is a message on my voice mail from the guest-house manager (who also works for another division of the college) saying "The woman who cleans the house heard a cat in your room. Please remove the cat." She said several other sentences about why, but the gist of it was "remove the cat." No preliminaries, as in "Hello Jane, so sorry to hear a tree fell on your house and you are homeless, I realize you want your cat with you but unfortunately we can't accommodate her," or something of the sort. Just "remove the cat."
So I called a colleague and asked if I could board Her Grace with her (mercifully she lives nearby) and she said yes. I went to the guest house, "removed the cat" (this time Maya Pavlova slid into the cat carrier and didn't scratch me till I bled, which she had the night of the big adventure, but she was traumatized at the time - she did try to hide under the bed this time, but not for long) and moved her and her accoutrements into her new digs, went back to my soon to be ex-house to inhale some more particulate matter (I'm saying this to sound dramatic, actually the nice people gave me a mask which I wear when I need it) and decided that I would remove myself from the guest house as well. So I am sleeping on my colleague's floor tonight. No cat, no Jane. Where the cat goes, Jane goes. Harrumph!
I have a lead on a house which I visited this afternoon. I think it may work out. It is smaller than where I live and less beautiful, but sweet and workable and with a larger kitchen than where I am now. My foodie heart rejoices. It also has a little garden and yard beyind with a grapevine and a fig tree! Can you say "biblical image" ??!! The price is workable. The deposit is quite large, though, but I may be able to swing it.
I am off to dine with colleague and daughters and cat now. MEOW!
More updates when I can. I am really tired and there may be people putting things in boxes in the house tomorrow. Thanks for all your kind notes, prayers, virtual hugs, warm thoughts, and friendship. They mean a lot to me.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
A tree fell on my house
While I was out teaching last night, a tree fell on my house.
The good news is, thanks be to Godde, I am fine, and Her Grace, Maya Pavlova, Feline Bishop Extraordinaire, is fine. She was scared since she was in the house when the crash happened. But we slept in close quarters and she was purring this morning.
Things could be worse. We could be wet hurricane survivors. We slept in a dry place last night --the college guest house which is near my house. I am now in a bit of shock as reality is starting to sink in.
Thanks to my friend Wormwood's Doxy for getting the word out so fast. I called her not too long after all this happened.
Oddly, the rain was a soft lovely rain, not a thunderstorm (though a tornado did touch down in our county earlier yesterday) and it was not a case of the tree being hit by lightning. The first guess of the campus facilities staff was that the rain loosened the earth around the tree, which was a big live tree, not at all a dead one. I rent a house from the college where I teach and it is on the edge of the campus near the woods.
I don't know why everyone worried about earthquakes when I moved to California. The center and south of the country are really worse...
Oh, and another piece of good news: Wednesday is my longest day of work. So, after not getting enough sleep because of staying up correcting student work and prepping for my 8:30 a.m. class (I was being observed by a colleague in both my classes, the early one and the late one, for the dreaded Fourth Year Evaluation for which all materials are due September 15) and holding office hours and having lunch and going to a 1:30 thing, I found out that my 2:30 p.m. meeting was canceled, decided to blow off the 3:45 faculty meeting because it was closer to 80% required than 100% required, and headed home for a long nap so that I would be coherent for my 8 p.m. class. And a fine, restorative long nap it was. You see, I obey the four-legged one whose Canon to the Extraordinary I am and who issues such sensible pastoral directives.
So I taught half the class before staff pulled me out of it (the colleague who was observing me took over the second half) and when I got home to the crashed-in house with six men running around inspecting damage and moving furniture and a scared cat hiding in a closet, I was rested instead of exhausted and cranky. More proof of the wisdom of naps!
Though the "gee, what lovely soft sleeping-weather rain" proved to be deceptive.
I will have to move. Most likely soon. Which means looking for a place. The college is helping me with that, but since I was renting from them at a somewhat under market rate (which is why I chose to keep living on campus - big house for good rate) it will be hard for us to find a place, apartment or house, for the same amount of money for the same large space.
******
The Adorable Godson, alerted by our rector, came by as I was writing the above and we went off to find me some late lunch with protein to shore up my energy.
Everyone is being sympathetic and I have a good social network, so things should be all right. It will just take a while and interfere with my plans for a quiet weekend. Sigh.
How is Louisiana doing? I haven't had time to check and I heard last night that there might be bad weather and possible evacuations. Big shoutout and hug to Paul and Mimi down there.
More when I can. Peace out.
The good news is, thanks be to Godde, I am fine, and Her Grace, Maya Pavlova, Feline Bishop Extraordinaire, is fine. She was scared since she was in the house when the crash happened. But we slept in close quarters and she was purring this morning.
Things could be worse. We could be wet hurricane survivors. We slept in a dry place last night --the college guest house which is near my house. I am now in a bit of shock as reality is starting to sink in.
Thanks to my friend Wormwood's Doxy for getting the word out so fast. I called her not too long after all this happened.
Oddly, the rain was a soft lovely rain, not a thunderstorm (though a tornado did touch down in our county earlier yesterday) and it was not a case of the tree being hit by lightning. The first guess of the campus facilities staff was that the rain loosened the earth around the tree, which was a big live tree, not at all a dead one. I rent a house from the college where I teach and it is on the edge of the campus near the woods.
I don't know why everyone worried about earthquakes when I moved to California. The center and south of the country are really worse...
Oh, and another piece of good news: Wednesday is my longest day of work. So, after not getting enough sleep because of staying up correcting student work and prepping for my 8:30 a.m. class (I was being observed by a colleague in both my classes, the early one and the late one, for the dreaded Fourth Year Evaluation for which all materials are due September 15) and holding office hours and having lunch and going to a 1:30 thing, I found out that my 2:30 p.m. meeting was canceled, decided to blow off the 3:45 faculty meeting because it was closer to 80% required than 100% required, and headed home for a long nap so that I would be coherent for my 8 p.m. class. And a fine, restorative long nap it was. You see, I obey the four-legged one whose Canon to the Extraordinary I am and who issues such sensible pastoral directives.
So I taught half the class before staff pulled me out of it (the colleague who was observing me took over the second half) and when I got home to the crashed-in house with six men running around inspecting damage and moving furniture and a scared cat hiding in a closet, I was rested instead of exhausted and cranky. More proof of the wisdom of naps!
Though the "gee, what lovely soft sleeping-weather rain" proved to be deceptive.
I will have to move. Most likely soon. Which means looking for a place. The college is helping me with that, but since I was renting from them at a somewhat under market rate (which is why I chose to keep living on campus - big house for good rate) it will be hard for us to find a place, apartment or house, for the same amount of money for the same large space.
******
The Adorable Godson, alerted by our rector, came by as I was writing the above and we went off to find me some late lunch with protein to shore up my energy.
Everyone is being sympathetic and I have a good social network, so things should be all right. It will just take a while and interfere with my plans for a quiet weekend. Sigh.
How is Louisiana doing? I haven't had time to check and I heard last night that there might be bad weather and possible evacuations. Big shoutout and hug to Paul and Mimi down there.
More when I can. Peace out.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Call me an old sap
I was going to go to bed really early and miss the Kennedy tribute, but once I finished one last piece of work that couldn't wait till tomorrow, it was only 15 minutes till the scheduled time. So I turned on C-Span live, plunked myself down in front of the television, started tearing up during Caroline Kennedy's introduction, got seriously misty during the film tribute, and wept while Ted Kennedy spoke.
Now the Dems are dancing to the tune of Kool and the Gang's "Celebrate" (one of my favorite songs). Someone has orchestrated this well, literally and figuratively.
It's not the Kennedy mystique that makes me weep. It's the lifting up of the people and especially the poor, and the way in which Ted K has been my senator (literally - I lived 15 years in Massachusetts, not counting three earlier school years) and theirs. I've seen him work, year after year. (Flashback: Seeing him at a community health center in Boston, at an AIDS-related event. 20 years ago.) And there he was, brain tumor and all. I hope he lives to see President Obama.
Something else brought me to tears, and Caroline Kennedy spoke of it. It was that mobilizing energy. That desire to get to work. That urge toward the common good. That wish to love our country the way we want to love it and the way it deserves to be loved.
Now I can go to bed.
Now the Dems are dancing to the tune of Kool and the Gang's "Celebrate" (one of my favorite songs). Someone has orchestrated this well, literally and figuratively.
It's not the Kennedy mystique that makes me weep. It's the lifting up of the people and especially the poor, and the way in which Ted K has been my senator (literally - I lived 15 years in Massachusetts, not counting three earlier school years) and theirs. I've seen him work, year after year. (Flashback: Seeing him at a community health center in Boston, at an AIDS-related event. 20 years ago.) And there he was, brain tumor and all. I hope he lives to see President Obama.
Something else brought me to tears, and Caroline Kennedy spoke of it. It was that mobilizing energy. That desire to get to work. That urge toward the common good. That wish to love our country the way we want to love it and the way it deserves to be loved.
Now I can go to bed.
Swift-Boating and the Oily-Garchs
It's a political day here at Acts of Hope, and the Acts of Hope extended family is publishing like crazy.
(Yours truly, on the other hand, is two weeks overdue with her Episcopal Café August column and drowning in back-to-school work. Taught a class on 2d century Christianity on four and a half hours of sleep at 8:30 a.m. Not good. Well, the class was good, but I am going to have a nap this afternoon, once I am done with office hours, from which I am stealing time right now since there are no students in my office.)
"Oily-Garchs" is the not too subtle but accurate term used by a friend of the family, Jerry Landay, who is a contributor to the Providence (Rhode Island) Journal. Here's his latest column. A little something for Paul the BB's McCain watch.
Back to my stack of student writing. Yup, assignments already. We waste no time.
(Yours truly, on the other hand, is two weeks overdue with her Episcopal Café August column and drowning in back-to-school work. Taught a class on 2d century Christianity on four and a half hours of sleep at 8:30 a.m. Not good. Well, the class was good, but I am going to have a nap this afternoon, once I am done with office hours, from which I am stealing time right now since there are no students in my office.)
"Oily-Garchs" is the not too subtle but accurate term used by a friend of the family, Jerry Landay, who is a contributor to the Providence (Rhode Island) Journal. Here's his latest column. A little something for Paul the BB's McCain watch.
Back to my stack of student writing. Yup, assignments already. We waste no time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)