I wish I could recall the rest of the joke instead of just the punch line. It was uproariously funny at the time; a long intra-family discussion of the Pointy Haired Bosses executing the Peter Principle in our general direction.

But yes, the F (Fay) and the G (Gustav) are giving me heartburn.

We’ve been through a few storms before and adapted our plan as our family has grown. Shutters instead of plywood (with successive storm names painted on the sheets). Instead of a shelf of water, beef jerky, and a few other things to load for a ride to sit the storm with relatives, the kids are used to my hurricane closet of snacky treats and flashlights. We rotate board games, books, and have “camp outs” downstairs away from the worst of the weather.

Wolfie’s gotten more literal in his understanding, from painting the wind as the storm singing to us and making music to putting together the more abstract storm tracking tools - radar. He’s not quite got it yet, through no fault of his own. But it did take me a couple of days to understand what he really was looking for - actual purple colored rain out the window instead of only on the computer or television screen. Whoops. Helvi’s just in it for the cookies and the party atmosphere of “camp hur’cane!”

Oh, Fay. Rain on my rooftop, rain in my house. Gah. I hope Gustav stays far enough away from us that I can get that (hopefully minor!) leak fixed. It’s at an odd angle so I’m not even certain I could really tarp it up.

Thinking of you guys in the path, over and above my own self-centered concerns. Time to dust off some of my old hurricane/camping survival techniques.