Saturday, February 18, 2012.
Home In The Fog. The Storm, The Dark, And The Chill.
The Voyager of the Seas tied up at the New Orleans Cruise Terminal at around seven--a little late, because of the fog. I calmed Mary Ann down by saying that we may as well eat breakfast, because there'd probably be fog on the Causeway.
We had a very nice breakfast with a couple who now lives in Edmonton but grew up in Chicago. They must like winter. The gentleman was the kid of guy I always love having nearby: he laughed at all my quips. "You should adopt him," Mary Ann said. She's been looking for a reprieve from duty as my omnipresent audience since the day we first met.
The first and only omelette for me on this trip was excellent, with cheese and herbs. I'll bet there was a little sour cream in there, too. Mary Ann, who for her professed disdain for breakfast food always gets a large load of it, had the whole standard American breakfast.
We tipped everybody, rolled out with all our bags (the best strategy for cruising, because it avoids lost luggage and forces you to pack light), and after about forty-five minutes we were out of the maze and on our way home. Now we were in a bit of a hurry. An enormous storm was heading our way. All the daytime Carnival parades had been canceled, and Endymion tonight was iffy.
Home around eleven. Mary Ann showered and re-dressed, and at one was headed back to the other side of the lake to hang out first with Mary Leigh, then with her brother and his family. As they've done for years, the Lee Connells were in a suite at the Windsor Court. It must have been a good party, because Mary Ann lopped off the third part of her evening--a parade-watching gathering at the home of Kevin Kelly, the owner of Houmas House plantation. Or it might just have been the storm, which was starting to get rough.
But not as rough as it was at the Cool Water Ranch. At around noon, a downpour the likes of which we have not seen in a long time came through, with winds suggesting a tornado threat. MA left after the most powerful wave, which knocked the power out. I thought about going with her, but I have a lot of work to catch up with. I rolled the dice and hoped the power would return shortly.
It didn't. I worked at my laptop until the outside light was too dim to see the keyboard. Then I mounted the battery-operated light I use to take pictures above the desk and kept going until the laptop battery gave out.
I thought I'd go to a restaurant for supper and to recharge the laptop. But the jacket holding my wallet was in Mary Ann's car. And I'd tapped out nearly all my cash in tips on the ship, whose ATM machines were all out of money during the final day of the cruise. (Note to Royal Caribbean: your tipped personnel would get 20-40 percent better tips if there were cash available. And yes, I tried the casino.)
On top of that, I had a flat tire again. I re-inflated it with a pump that runs off the car battery. (The guys at the tire store said it's my wheel, not the tire that's leaking, but slowly.) I decided to hope I could get by with my just-expired old driver's license and the $32 I found on my desk, and headed for the nearest restaurant. The road was a little flooded, but not badly enough to prevent my getting out.
At the Camellia Café I had a good dinner of a house salad and a dozen baked oysters. Six of them were topped with butter, parmesan cheese, and garlic; the other six with a creamy spinach-and-artichoke concoction. I had enough left over to get a slice of cheesecake set in a warm soup of bananas Foster sauce with sliced bananas. (A lot better than it sounded.) My only regret was that, in the ordeal, I forgot to bring my laptop with me so I could recharge it.
I was hoping to return to a house with lights on. Several of my neighbors were aglow, but I could hear their generators running. But no such luck. Aside from the darkness, the dropping temperatures that always follow a storm this time of year were in the forties. We have electric heat. One more thing: a leaking faucet drained the water well tank. Now I would freeze, thirsty, with dirty hands, in the dark. Nothing to do but go to bed, at around nine.
The power came on at around ten, but only for a few minutes. Enough for me to could wash up, get a drink of water, and flush the toilet. Again at eleven-thirty. Mary Ann had the good luck to arrive home during that longer burst, and was in bed before the lights went out again. It wasn't on for good until around midnight.
The guy I talked with at the power company said that there had been a tornado. (The next day, the Weather Service said that wasn't true.) The power guy said ninety poles were down, pulled by fallen trees.
