How to make groceries in a pirogue

Life as Chris and I knew it seems to be officially over. As of the news this morning water continues to rise as the levees are blown out and New Orleans is pretty much destroyed. We’ve seen footage within half a mile of our house and it doesn’t look good. It looks like it may be over 30 days before we can even think about going back to what was our home to see if anything is salvagable. There is only so much of a life you can fit into a Honda Civic.

We have a lot to be thankful for. We are comfortably staying with Chris’s little sister and her husband in Florence. We have each other and our cats. We’re nervously awaiting news from friends, but just about everyone we knew was evacuating. I’m concerned for some of my clients, but going to have to try to keep that anxiety under wraps because there is just no way of knowing who made it and who didn’t.

We have our important papers, pictures, some clothes, Grandma Smith’s wedding dress and Grandpa Reynolds baptismal dress. We’ve got money in the bank and a temporary free place to stay. We have the tower from our computer. We are in much better shape than a lot of others.

I’ve e-mailed anyone I have the e-mail address for Mike and Elizabeth’s phone number. My cell phone is not working for incoming calls. I only have intermittent access to the internet for now, but I will try to keep everyone posted. About what, I don’t know. Anything that seemed important in my life a week ago has ceased to exist. Deadlines at work are gone, my planner doesn’t really mean anything anymore. That mopping I was going to get done this weekend…well…

So many questions keep coming to mind. Do I still have medical insurance if my job no longer exists? Does my job exist? What about our friends? Where are they? No one’s cell phone works. I don’t think we can go back. We didn’t own so there’s nothing to rebuild. If we wanted to move back there is no where to move to. What about all the people that didn’t make it out? What happens when disease starts moving through? Did anyone we know or care about not make it? There is a considerable chance that some of the homeless, or nearly homeless I worked with didn’t make it. Are Chris and I now considered homeless?

We are really fortunate to have family because there are a lot who don’t. If we were looking a hotel bill without an end in sight this would be a lot harder. We used to joke that it was good that we were living in New Orleans because sometime in the future it could be wiped out and we would have known it when. Maybe that’s yet another thing to be thankful for–we knew it when…

I’m busying myself checking out my brothers’ and sister’s blog and my little sister’s amazing pictures on her flicker sight while Chris packs for our evacuation. I’m very helpful. I keep thinking about Lexy’s new dangerous neighborhood, and my own 5 years spent in the ‘hood. It took me years of ghetto living and a trip through law enforcement academy to really gain the confidence to protect myself. I don’t think anyone needs all the self-defense training I have gone through because of the academy as much as they need to develop the frame of mind that they are a fighter.

You’re biggest risk in a big city is getting mugged. In this situation, whatever they want, you give. However, never ever look like a bartender or a waitress because they’ll know you have cash. If you are carrying cash, put some small bills in your pocket to hand over and keep the rest of your cash in your sock.

Basically, if someone forces you to go anywhere with them you’re as good as dead. With this in mind fight and fight dirty. Gouge eyes out, punch or pinch the windpipe with as much force as you can muster. If you can disable the windpipe, they’ll be struggling for oxygen as you run away. Kicking in the crotch is somewhat overrated, but do whatever you need to do to hurt them bad. Remember, people on a lot of drugs won’t feel much pain. Usually, your thumb going into their eye they will feel.

It is really hard to raise a ruccous for most women because they feel embarassed, but do it anyway. People have tried to basically molest me on public transportation in the past and beleive me, I wasn’t the one who walked away feeling embarassed. Don’t be afraid to scream and yell even if you’re just nervous about someone walking behind you. You’re safety is always the paramount concern, outweighing any perception of public opinion.

Don’t be an easy target. If you look like you are aware- looking around, making sure someone behind you knows you see them- it goes a long way. Well lit, well populated is always a good rule of thumb. Common sense and trusting your gut are the best weapons anyone can have. Lock doors, windows, slap those cheesy “We have an alarm” stickers on everything whether you have an alarm or not.

I don’t know if this works as well in the north as it has for me in the south, but holler at your neighbors. I was like my own little outreach program in that we had all the kids at our house to do homework and get saxophone lessons in the afternoon. We had Thanksgiving dinner Aunt Pam style every year with all the neighbors over for as much food as they could eat. I actually got mugged once where they took all that my friend had and didn’t take anything from me. The best we could figure was they knew who I was, I probably did something for someone in their family and they left me alone. It’s a good thing, because I had waited tables that night and had probably had over 100 dollars on me. They passed by my house as they left us and my neighbors not only saw them, but identified them to the police and they were locked up.

Guns are controversial, but here’s my two cents. I beleive a gun will get you in worse trouble every time. Even when I had a concealed weapons permit I didn’t ever carry my gun on me, and as soon as I wasn’t law enforcement anymore I got rid of my gun. Get pepper spray. Carry it right in your hand while you walk in scary places. It doesn’t do you any good if it’s at the bottom of your purse. Guns do more to escalate situations than they ever do to protect anyone.

I will leave you with a final anecdote that I found powerful. We had a neighborhood rapist for a few months in our old neighborhood. I wasn’t too worried about myself because the rapist was targetting African-American women, but it was obviously upsetting just the same. He had victimized three women and confronted his fourth. She basically beat the s**t out of him. They never caught him, yet he never raped anyone in Mid City again. I’ve always found this inspirational.

I made a quick trip to Michigan and by a happy accident ended up in town at the same time as Pop and Adam. I also got to see Grams, Gramps and Aunt Sharon. It was a really nice trip. My friend Kara got married. You all may remember Kara from when I was in high school. Her, Laura, and I were a formidable threesome back then. Her marriage kicked in the idea that we are grown ups now. Everyone had kids, her older brother was gray headed, even a girl that was a few grades behind us was there and is now a teacher and was three months pregnant. I’m having trouble wrapping my head around this grown-up thing. I think the trick is to realize that we don’t really ever grow up, but we do grow older.

Grampa took me by a house that Great Grandpa Albert had built in Ferndale and that Grandpa had lived in until he was about five. He told us an interesting story. Albert had a Ford Model T that was caput. Back in those days you had to pay the junk yard to take a car, so Grandpa Albert dug a giant hole in the driveway, drove the Model T in, and burried it. To this day there is a Ford Model T burried in their driveway. This fascinates me to no end. I wish I would have taken a picture of the house, but I did take other pictures of the Michigan trip.

Here are the girls together again and Laura dancing with her husband Marland…

Here is the fam, unfortunately minus Alexis and Gary. We need to come up with some sort of yearly sibling reunion…

We are looking a hurricane right in the eye, pun intended, so we are ready to travel and will probably leave in the middle of the night in hopes of avoiding some of the really bad traffic. We haven’t had one headed right at New Orleans since the 50’s. I’m listening to Chris talk with his sister Elizabeth as I type to let her know to expect us. If it comes here it will be devastating. The media has such a short attention span that you don’t see much about the Florida panhandle and Gulf Shores but they are still devastated over a year later from the storms that hit last summer. If our house is destroyed, or our town is destroyed, I think we’ll just move. If anyone is looking to check on me, I think all my siblings have my cell phone number. We are getting our cats ready to travel, they are our most valuable possessions but have never taken a trip before and don’t deal well with change. Here are some pictures of them checking out their new digs for traveling.

My latest way to kid Chris is to say my types are dorks and guys with tattoos, and in him I have the best of both combined. We have a dear friend Mike who is an excellent artist particularly in the tattoo medium. I noticed we had a nice progression of the piece Chris is getting on the back 0f his leg, so I thought I would share. This has been done in three sittings over the last few months.

Sitting one:

Sitting two:

Sitting three:

Tattoos aren’t for everyone, but I think everyone can appreciate the artistry that is going into this. Soon my big tough husband’s leg will be covered with flowers.