PNewL PNewS
Volume 32 Issue 3 “All the pnews that phits.” October 2024
Editor’s note: I am trying to get this out while it is still fresh. I’ve worked on verb tenses and some of it is just rough and frankly so am I. I hope it conveys the experience. I’ve often thought as I listen to the news that at some point most of the people in the world will have some level of PTSD. I’m more sure of it now. I have listed some places at the end I recommend supporting should you feel inclined. (NO pressure! I thought it might save people from having to ask!)
Storm related: Hurricane Helene
The Storm hit hard around 7:30am (or was it 8:30?) Friday, September 27, though many of us were awakened by winds as early as 5am. I did several circuits within the house, looking out the windows. Everything was fine—it was windy and trees were bendy but it wasn’t anything scary. Then the wind picked up, blasts coming from all directions and water slapping at the house. I didn’t take it seriously until a very large branch (I could not carry it without cutting some branches off) hit the house and a window that, remarkably and thankfully, didn’t break. And I thought, shouldn’t I be in the middle of the house, away from windows? I sat on the floor by the laundry room with Buster in my lap. and from there, I could see the windows in both the front and the back of the house.
Sometimes, I couldn’t see anything out there. It was gray and misty. Only it was more solid than mist. I couldn’t see my back fence. I couldn’t see anything out front. (A tornado?) People often say the sound is like a freight train, but to me it was more like being under the flight path of an airport. Next time I walked around the house, looking out the various windows, all the trees were gone. The giant Wild Cherry I’d had bears in just a few weeks before was in the driveway, the dogwood and poplars in the front yard, the Leyland Cypress were neatly laying in a row along Jeff and Susan’s driveway (or so it appeared at first glance). It was so much lighter with all those trees gone—I could brush my teeth without turning on the light which was good because there was no power or water for the next 18 days.
Jeff and Susan delivered the world’s best cup of coffee around 11. They figured they were safe because we were between bands.
Winds died down around 1pm.
We walked around in disbelief for the rest of the day. Chainsaws seemed to start up immediately.
Mail was delivered on Monday.
For several days in a row, the morning temperature was 60 degrees and every morning it felt different.
Four or five days with not much communication, then a little cell service if I walked to the bottom of the road. I could receive texts but couldn’t tell if I could send them—I’d get notifications that they hadn’t sent but then occasionally I would get a response. It was confusing.
Our little road is damaged. It’s always been a gravel road but most of that has washed away and the water took most of the dirt. The ditch on one side has become a gulley. It’s a single lane which is particularly challenging when large trucks are using it. These things take time and patience.
Meanwhile it seemed to get a little better each day except for when it didn’t. Patsy and Ernie were out of town and they offered their home as a place to retreat to—their house had power and water though a tree fell on their community water tower and the future was unknown. They also have a gorgeous view with little reminder of the Storm. A couple days it felt like all I could do was sit on their deck and charge devices and take a shower, for which I was grateful.
Jeff and Susan and Rob and I formed a pod like in Covid days--we ate dinner together each night. We also moved a lot of trees (eight off the doublewide) and branches as Jeff cut them into manageable pieces. Jeff is the Chainsaw Master—at one point, he took off his ear protectors because he needed to listen to the tree. We cleared three long driveways among other things.
The dinner pod evolved. It was so freaking comforting to know I was having dinner with those people. The other night I thought I am so tired I can’t, but I could and it was good. Susan was kind of the captain of the kitchen—we all participate but she’s the boss. Jeff was captain of the hard work and Rob and I are support staff and it all worked. One night, I made fresh pasta because the pasta dough I put in the freezer a couple weeks ago was defrosting. The sauce was also defrosting: “Just roasted tomatoes” the container said. I simmered some stuff and the best part was Susan wasn’t the kitchen captain—she got a night off. Rob and I agreed that we may never know how to thank these folks.
There are daily briefings twice a day on the BPR radio station saying what’s opened, where to get potable or non-potable water (grateful for the creek for flushing toilets!), how the municipal water system is progressing (one 36” diameter pipe was 25’ underground and was uprooted(?)!!). It’s surprisingly helpful. I feel like I am getting insights into media/admin relations –there are definitely personality issues there!
I took garbage to a dumpster and went to the grocery store for the first time! Yay.
The place I spend most of my time, Local Cloth, is decimated. It had 11feet of water and is now filled with toxic sludge. I missed the initial announcements because of no cell or internet and because when I finally rejoined the connected, my fuzzy brain couldn’t go through the 200+ backlog of emails. Judi, the Board Chair was quoted in the NY Times, we have a Go Fund Me. People want to help. I’m tired.
Power is coming but right now it’s five miles away and most of the poles are down between here and there. The road is passable, single lane only, rough and slow going but it’s better than some.
I’m supposed to be in Ushuaia, Argentina and for some reason the tour company doesn’t get it. They think I should be arriving on the next plane. Maybe I should (the airport is closed and I can’t). Thank goodness I opted for trip insurance. I said to our dinner pod…I can’t leave. I need to be here—I feel responsible.
The Helene Diet
We are eating very well--we need to eat the contents of our freezers. We are also working very hard. I suspect that’s where the weight loss came or maybe it’s stress. My Apple Watch tells me I’m exercising and walking and standing as it would like me to. There is still so much to do and I feel old.
Buster
He’s been affected too. He is spoiled and I did it and I’m not sorry except for when he gets so stressed out by the lack of routine. Tonight he took off in the dark and I had to let him go because…it’s dark. Thankfully, he came home and stretched out in the middle of the bed as he often does and slept like a rock.
Miscellaneous Observations
• I just wanna play Wordle. (There is no power or water.)
• My computer screen is filthy. I tend to do most computer work in low light and now that I am working out in the sunshine, it’s not good. I need to do something about that but all the recommendations online include “distilled water” and other things I don’t have.
• Everyone should have a battery-operated radio. It really helped me feel connected.
• I peed in the toilet. We agreed that we pee in the woods. But tonight, after dark, I peed in the toilet and I felt guilty. The toilet is kind of a nightmare right now. I was glad it was just my toilet. You can’t understand this stuff unless you’re living it.
• People drive fast on my little road—it’s not hard since it is going downhill but Helene has provided a speed bump just below my driveway, where the creek took over the road and washed away the dirt and gravel and left only a very rustic cobblestone. It slows just about everyone down.
• I find I read about 10 pages each night and then the next night I have to go back and read half of them again. Slow going. Others say they have the same experience.
• One of the things I learned recently is how much I rely on my hearing to keep me safe. When Buster and I are walking, I know where cars are. I have been grateful I still hear pretty well. Then the Storm changed things and the creek got really loud, and chainsaws and helicopters were everywhere and I lost the security of feeling I had a sense of my environment. Plus unfamiliar vehicles are using our broken roads and they don’t really know how to drive around an impulsive dog. It’s another unsettling part of the new normal.
• After I got power back, I watched ET…on VHS. When I got to the part where the bicycles take off, I broke down. I wondered when it was going to happen. I knew the tears were hiding somewhere but who knew it would be that funny little movie which holds a warm place in my heart from my movie theatre days, that would be the thing to unlock all the pent-up emotion. Cathartic.
• We have been very fortunate with the weather since the Storm. Beautiful sunshiney days with comfortable temperatures. I am starting to get nervous about low humidity and no rain and all of the fuel (dry leaves and gobs of wood).
• Pro-tip: I bought a tube of Dr Bronner’s toothpaste to try out, and boy was I glad I did! It doesn’t get foamy which when I was having to boil water really cut down on the morning water use.
Losing and Finding and Losing Stuff
This seems to be a constant battle. I can’t keep track of anything but what I use every day. I know that my headlamp will be in the middle of the bed—that’s handy to know and a little unusual. I finally put the vacuum cleaner away because I almost broke my toe on it in the middle of the night. I put the Luci lights on the windowsill each morning so they’ll be charged for the next night.
It’s the other stuff that gets lost. I found my pruning saw under the recycling. I’m not sure how I found it or why I found it or why it was there but there you have it. Then I lost it for a while, which pissed me off and found it again and put it on the stack of important things that are on the corner of my craft table. That’s kind of Command Central these days where I put things that I want to be able to find again. I now have a basket for charging cords. To people who design electronics: IT IS NOT HELPFUL TO HAVE A MULTITUDE OF CHARGING CORDS THAT ONLY FIT ONE THING DURING A DISASTER. (First world problem but then a lot of this is!)
In my own way, I am organized, but there are so many pieces of the puzzle right now. It’s hard to keep them all straight. And the nights are long and very dark.
The power came on on Day 18. I am at the end of the line. Jeff and Susan got theirs back on Day 16. Rob says it took them five hours to put in a new pole near his house, then they had to connect everyone else on up the mountain. I cried when the nice man came down my driveway in a giant electrical truck from Indiana and said, you should have power. I did. Living with a well that had not been breached by storm water, it meant I had good water. No more over chlorinated potable water! Yay!
My internet provider, Frontier, says they show no outages in the area. I think they might change their tune when they come out. It occurred to me the other day that all the wires in the road may be from the days of landlines. If that’s true, who will clean all that up? No one’s coming to restring those, right?
And we are the lucky ones. Our houses are only slightly battered. My roofer has come and gone. (I love that I don’t have an electrician or a plumber relationship but I have a roofer I like and he returns my phone calls. Whoever thought having a good relationship with a roofer would come in handy?)
In the Life Goes On category, Local Cloth is rising from the mud. The building managers had flood insurance and the mud removal and sanitation process is well under way. We are making plans – my head is spinning with all of the plans…all of the people who want to help. I have tears just below the surface for all the kindness.
This weekend we went to Charlotte to a Market where they opened up 10 booths for people from WNC. It was very sweet (and remarkably well run). People were very kind. I took a bushel of apples to support the farmers and people ate all of them. We went with the work of several artists to see if we could find a new revenue stream. We sold a solid amount of stuff and we laughed a lot.
During this Market, I got a message from a friend I had reached out to for ideas of markets in Greensboro and her market friends stepped up in a big way. I couldn't read the messages during the Charlotte market because they made me cry. People are being so nice.
A fiber mill owner in New York collected yarn and wool at the Sheep and Wool festival there and they are delivering it here for people who’ve lost their stuff! Fiber people are THE BEST.
I guess I should add that Disasters uncover the best in people (and there is some “worst” but I won’t go there).
Things I am Learning & Miscellaneous Observations (from the before times)
• I had to get a new phone cover. I buy compostable covers and I was impressed that my first one lasted 3+ years. I bought a light colored one thinking it would be easier to find in my purse. Surprisingly, it isn’t.
• The other day (pre-Helene) I was waiting for someone to ask me how my day was—I was prepared with an answer. I’d had an argument with Alexa and the GPS guy in my car. I thought that could give one pretty good insight into my day. No one asked…so I’m telling you.
Wanna donate???
• BELOVED Asheville. Historically works with the unhoused. Since the Storm they are everywhere doing everything—they had flush brigades for senior housing, bringing in water to flush toilets. They’ve been repairing people’s homes, matching people who need with people who have, and supplying basics like food, water, and clothes. https://www.belovedasheville.com/
• Local Cloth: my people https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-resilient-fiber-artists-and-farmers
• Manna Food Bank: https://www.mannafoodbank.org/
• Community Foundation of Western North Carolina: Contributions will support recovery efforts related to the devastating impacts of Hurricane Helene in Western North Carolina.
https://cfwnc.fcsuite.com/erp/donate/create/fund?funit_id=1332
These are all my people.
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