I was doing some figuring. I've posted 151 times since I switched over to Typepad, and only eleven times this month (August). I was busy, much busier than usual. I also find that it's hardto get back in the blog groove once you've had a hiatus. I've had 684 comments, roughly 4.5 per post. Hardly gangbusters there. It figures that about one out of every eighteen people, or hits, leaves a comment. What do the rest of you think? I'd love to hear from you, know who you are, stuff like that, you know? Typepad's figures are a bit wonky. I have another hit counter that isn't coming up witht te same numbers. Maybe they're both wrong, who'd know?
Trivial stuff in the face of the natural (seems super-natural to me) disaster that keeps unfolding in our south. I sit here in my office / bedroom / studio and work on this months' billing, check my email, and ply bobbins of mohair that I've been accumulating over the past weeks while waiting for the printer to finish each batch. The pouring rain has let up enough to take a breather and walk down to the barn. I have everything. Guilt creeps into the cracks in my psyche. I am a TV voyeur, awstruck at the enormity of what I am witnessing. Contrary to reason, those in rural or poorer conditions may actually be in a better situation to cope. Imagine being walled in by all the concrete; your home, your neighborhood and all those surrounding you, filled as you would a backyard pool. City dwellers neither have the resources nor skills to fight back. Country folks use propane, not natural gas. It's stored onsight in big tanks in the backyard. We're used to having power outages and stock things like batteries, candles, and drinking water as a matter of daily life. We have axes and chain saws. We have tractors, and folks that know what to do with them. I can't imagine what it would be, to be stuck on an elevated highway, or a roof for that matter, an island of concrete in the hot sun without water or food, with kids or elderly parents or just not knowing where they were... or..
Get those people on buses, trucks and boats and get them out of there where they can be taken care of or take care of themselves. Water trucks, where are they? This is a disaster that has been in the making for years. I remember talking to folks in New Orleans fourteen years ago about just this kind of a situation. There must be a plan, right??