The Eye of the Storm

Flying out of Boston and driving across the country in August rather than January and leaving most of my stuff in a VT basement seemed like a brilliant idea in April.

Then... Hurricane Irene hit the East Coast.

My tiny village sits right on the White River in VT, where, in case you haven't heard, over 200 roads are closed and covered bridges and homes are destroyed and people are trapped in their homes.

copyright Bob Dunkle 2011

I know of two families who have lost parts of their homes, and judging from an email sent from my law school today, the first apartment I lived in is trapped by the river, which makes me worry for the neighbors that still live there.

Thankfully, the basement where my belongings are is still dry, but that town is without power (as is most of the state) and unless the I-91 opens up tomorrow, I can't get to the school to pick up my financial aid money before leaving the country on Saturday.

To top it off I have a terrible head cold. And since I'm back in New England I can't go pick up some Nyquil from the convenience store because it closed at nine.

I also finally have a good internet connection and I can't talk to my niece and nephew on the webcam because  my mom is at a meeting and my dad doesn't know how to work it and by the time anyone gets home that can do it they'll be in bed.

I have no brilliant thing to say. I have no heartfelt words to give. There was a hurricane. It totally sucks.