After a 13 hour trip back from Wichita which required some creative navigation around stop-and-go traffic backed up on I-45 from Huntsville to Conroe, we arrived home last night at 10:30. No damage to speak of, but the yard is carpeted with twigs and limbs from our many elderly trees.
The only real loss was the contents of our refrigerators and freezers, since power went out for the better part of three days. Oh and a few cactus pots my father in law left on the stairs outside.
I’m at work, but I’d rather be home. Our house is still in hurricane mode with stuff stashed in bags everywhere. Laundry to be done. Thawed and refrozen meat to toss. A garage full of yard stuff to haul back to where it belongs.
Hard to believe that a mere week ago I was abandoning myself to the fact that much of this stuff was as good as gone. That was when Rita was a category 4/5 heading straight for our house. It’s tempting to say that this exercise has been much ado about nothing, but that’d be wrong. It was much ado, for sure, but about keeping family safe and out of harm’s way. If a hurricane Zita were to come our way in another month, I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.