Falafel, Hurricanes and Questionable Hygiene

It’s been a peaceful Sunday in my world. I’ve been making sure the portable scanner is fully charged, as well as the weather radio, both bought after hurricane Helene last year. It’s been raining for several days, saturating the ground and there were two storms brewing off the coast, last I checked.

We were lucky when Helene hit, compared to so many others. A few of the downtown businesses were completely washed away by the flooding. My place is a dry creek bed on the other end of town, farther from the river. I think we’re safe from the water, unless the creek decides to totally change course again like it did back in the 1800s during another big flood.

If that happens, my trailer will be fronted by luxurious, waterfront property.

Although we didn’t have any damage, we still couldn’t get supplies. The bridges weren’t safe, the only two roads out of town were closed. Even if we could have driven to neighboring towns, they were all without power and were basically shut down. My daughter couldn’t get to work, it was pretty scary.

At least this time, I’m stocked up on groceries. I sent the offspring to pick them up yesterday. She tried to get out of it, reasoning we could make it until Monday. She had come home from work the other night with two gallon-sized Ziplock bags full of leftovers from a company meeting.

I tried one of the mystery wraps, it must have been vegan. It was soaked in balsamic vinegar. I had falafel burps all night.

I followed a vegetarian diet for a couple of years. It’s challenging to find anything to eat when you’re out and about. I still can not understand why prepared vegan food always seems to be covered in balsamic vinegar. Gross.

Anyway, I was thankful just the same. Free food is always a good thing. Still though, after the third bite, I started wondering if everyone washed their hands before the meeting.

She works for an veterinary ER.

Wait, where was I? Oh yeah, storms.

Growing up on the coast of Virginia, hurricanes were nothing unusual. Every year, at the beginning of storm season, the local newspaper would include a large map of the east coast, with lines of longitude and latitude. During the weather forecast each night, the meteorologist would give the latest tracking for the storm and we’d mark our map, using a different color of ink or crayon for each storm.

It was exciting. It was before the internet. We had to get our thrills somewhere.

The first big storm to hit after my daughter was born was Gloria. I remember it vividly, because it was the first time I remember being afraid. I held my baby and sat under the dining room table as I watched trees bend in submission to the unrelenting winds and rain pelting against the window panes.

Having children will make you afraid of things you’d never thought of before.

We didn’t even lose power with Gloria. It was nothing like that bitch that hit here last year.

I’m going to spend the rest of my night wallerin’ a big ol’ pile of sourdough around the counter top. I’ll probably watch a few more episodes of “The Killing” and work on some quilts.

Ya’ll have a good week!

Thanks for reading Lost in Thought! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.