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Saturday, September 3, 2011
Tropical Storm Lee is padding ashore and into New Orleans like an over-sized, incontinent puppy.
He left his mark early in the living room downstairs.
When I'd finally decided to make my way down there, I quickly glimpsed the sheen of a pond puddling near the front door. Our right-hand shutter had been flung open during the night, and the rain, propelled by the wind, had seeped under the door and settled inside.
I grabbed our feeble sponge mop from out back and pushed as much of the water as I could back outside. I ran upstairs for a towel to lay against the threshold. Within half-an-hour, more were needed. There are now four of them carpeting the entryway.
It has only just begun, and I stand guard.
Update, 2:55 PM:
I remained vigilant throughout the morning and kept watch for the return of the slashing sheets of rain, but Lee held back.
I tempted his ire by sneaking the four towels out to the laundry room and running them through the clothes dryer. Twice. When they were done, I lay one across the door sill and waited for the next wave, and then ...
Dear reader, I fell asleep.
I've only just now re-awakened. The towel is still dry, the sun still shining.
Tonight's gonna be a bitch.