the cone of uncertainty

Would make a great title for a short story. I think it would be about ice cream. For those of you who don't live in Houston, it's what they were calling the trajectory Ike might or might not take in the days leading up to his (its?) ultimate land-fall. After deciding that we would "hunker down," (yet another humorous catch-phrase the local media just couldn't get enough of), we changed our (I'll confess that the husband was, as usual, more clear headed than I. He was SO right. ) minds Friday morning and headed for my mother-in-law's in Dallas. We realized that the roads were traffic-free this time around (it took us, I think, 9 hours to get here during the Rita evacuation) AND that living without electricity for even a couple of days just wouldn't be fun. So, we're thankful to be safe. We're thankful not to be eating canned goods warmed up on a camp stove.We're hearing worst case scenarios that it might be FOUR WEEKS before Houston gets power back, at which point the salmon I left in my freezer will certainly be holding all of West Houston hostage.

We just went to Galveston for the day last Saturday. The weather was glorious and cool. Harper was brave this time and went out really far in the water with Daddy. She got her first sunburn because I wasn't vigilant enough with the sunblock reapplication. Hudson and I sat under an umbrella and played in the sand. He preferred, again, to keep his distance from the water, though he just whimpered instead of crying this time when I tried to get him to go closer. We have watched the news footage in amazement, saying to each other, "But we were just there.." as if that somehow negates the possibility of such destruction. In case any of us had forgotten what omnipotence looks like, it seems that the ocean surging over our sadly insufficient boundaries might be a good place to start.