Damn

I was supposed to go to Houston tomorrow. This trip has been planned since June. Guess what? I ain't going. Guess what else? Some of my friends ain't leaving, either. Here's the thing, they don't live IN Houston. They live just outside of Galveston. Great.

So, I'm trying not to worry too much. Maybe it's because of Katrina. Maybe it's because this is the first hurricane that's hit since I've met a lot of these folks. Maybe it's because most of them are under 21 and are having to stay eventhough they want to leave because their parents are staying. Maybe I am completely overreacting. I don't know. I know I am scared for my friends.

The Duck ~ I'm not so much scared for her. She and her hub and her critters are going to be fine. They know when to leave. But "my" kids... I'm not used to having teenagers to be concerned about. Not like this. It's a new experience for me and, quite frankly, We are Not amused by it. I find myself wishing I was independently wealthy (okay, that's not a new experience but you get the idea) so that I could buy them all plane tickets and get them the hell out of there, if their parents wanted to go or not. But I can't.

So, instead, I am setting my intentions, charging my candles, and have sent them all orders to be in touch as soon as they can after Rita the bitch blows through. That is one of the joys of being an adult to teenagers; you can give orders. And once again am asking for prayers, energies, warm fuzzies ~ whatever. Not just for my friends but for the entire area, which has already seen and gone through too much.

One specific request: Brandon's dad. Yes, this is the same Brandon whose grandparents we were concerned about during Katrina. His name is Ronny. He's a Galveston cop and in charge of the dive team. He cannot leave. He will be leading rescues before, during and after the storm.

Those are Pobble Thoughts ~ and once again, Pobble Prayers.