We spent last week keeping an eye on Ike's cone of probability since we were in the possible path of the storm. We battened down the proverbial hatches (read: picking up Luke's toys in the back yard, putting lawn furniture in the garage, preemptive lawn mowing). And we spent much of Friday night watching Fox News' mustachioed ubermensch, Geraldo Rivera brave his ongoing, internal struggle to affirm his reporter-at-large machismo--this time by attempting to maintain a power stance on the beaches of Galveston in the face of the hurricane's fury--an exercise in futility. [Here's video evidence of Ike's domestic abuse of Rivera]. We also enjoyed watching Rivera interview Chuck Norris, Texas personified, who, along with his wife and beard, opened their TX ranch to any hurricane refugees needing a place. He also home schools his kids...in awesomeness, I presume.
The storm was supposed to reach us on Saturday morning, but instead of waking to the sounds of screaming winds and trees cracking, we awoke to find some clouds and a light drizzle. The worst of Ike just missed us. We were (thankfully, I guess) on the less intense, western side of the storm. So, instead of testing our fortitude by taking on nature's oblivion, we ran errands. Kate did some shopping. I efficaciously went to confession in the midst of the hurricane--of course, briefly entertaining the somewhat morbid and presumptive idea that I might pass trying to fjord raging floods on my way to or (preferably) from confession. But beyond rain and some sustained winds that were just strong enough to keep our wind chimes chiming, we remained far less affected than our family to the north. Thankfully, we kept safe and sound...though it wasn't as deadly as some, Ike caused some extreme and expansive damage. I think much of the country will be feeling the effects for awhile.