Coastal Storms and the Anxious

Well, after a near miss from Hurricane Erin and a surprisingly and fortunately quiet Atlantic hurricane season, we saw some storm action yesterday and last night. And y’all, I don’t even know what to say.

This was not presented as a big thing. It was neither hurricane nor tropical storm. It did not have a name. But the weather system that rolled through Virginia Beach over the course of yesterday dumped seven inches – SEVEN INCHES – of rain on us. And there was wind. I think the news mentioned gusts of 59 miles per hour.

It was a big thing, as it turns out, and I didn’t even know to be anxious about it.

Don’t worry, though. I got there.

Watching our back patio flood and a small river develop down our driveway, yeah, that wasn’t fun for me. But it was the water creeping up our front yard, closer and closer to our house, that really got me.

It doesn’t look like much in the picture, I know. You could easily say I was overreacting. (I might even agree with you.) But that is solidly three or four feet of water on our fence line, and it just kept rising. I was not in a good mood, and I didn’t sleep well last night.

Thankfully, it’s receded today and things have dried out, and I’m feeling better.

But, again, this was not even a tropical storm. IT WASN’T EVEN A TROPICAL STORM.

Coastal living is something, you guys. I guess I should just file this under ā€œThings I’ll Adjust To.ā€ Right? RIGHT???

Rooting for the Anticlimax

Well, Hurricane Erin has come and gone. Or, rather, it’s gone and it was never really here to begin with.

I’m not unhappy about that at all. Sometimes, anticlimactic is good.

It’s my first hurricane season as an official resident of Virginia Beach, and though I’m not too worried generally, I admit I was concerned about and disconcerted by all the watches and warnings that accompanied Erin’s not-landfall here. As a lifelong mountain critter – if not in body than certainly in spirit – I find the ocean intimidating. Coastal storms were something that, growing up, we actually talked about pretty often. You know, as in: ā€œGee, sure glad and grateful we aren’t dealing with that.ā€

And now here I am, living very close to the big water, right on the coast. It’s a funny old life.

At any rate, I am quite grateful that the most we saw of Erin in our neck of the woods – er, our stretch of the sand – was just a little bit of a breeze, some higher than usual high tides, and rough waves.

The surfers had a great time. Waves in Virginia Beach are normally pretty calm, so these were fun to watch. From a distance.

I know the Outer Banks in North Carolina dealt with more, and I’ve heard Norfolk had some flooding. But as storms go, we got lucky. And I’m hoping we stay lucky through this season. Because as much as I love new experiences, I definitely don’t have ā€œSee a hurricane up close and personalā€ on my 2025 bingo card. Ā 

Life Is Tragic and Beautiful

And we get to feel it all.

We just had a lovely visit with my parents. We spent time together outside and made good dinners and took Lucy to the beach.

Which she loves. And we love watching her have so much fun and explore the water and the sand.

And, we learned that a couple of our friends here, who found out they were pregnant right around the time we moved, had a healthy baby girl on July 10th. We’re so happy for them and so excited, too.

At the same time, just before my parents left, we got the news that one of their best friends, who has been fighting appendix cancer for a decade, passed away on Monday night. She fought so hard, and she lived to see her grandchildren grow. She leaves behind a legacy of love and kindness and fun and joy that we’ll carry with us forever.

We had a get together over the weekend, just a day before we heard about her passing, and I gave a toast. I’ll leave it here, because I think it captures something about life, and how people enter and leave, and all we can do is love each other and be together for the brief time that we’ve got. It’s never enough, that time. But it sure is wonderful.

To those just saying hello, to those who have to say goodbye, to the beautiful time in between, and to all of us here tonight in this moment together. Cheers.  

Wait, what? New house problems?

I’m used to old house problems. Remember the mystery pipe? Or the ceiling with no actual support joists? Yeah, I was pretty unfazed.

And silly me, I thought when we moved to our new home – a relatively young and spritely 25-years-old – that I just wouldn’t have to worry about any kind of house problems for a while. Which is good, frankly, because it’s crazy around here with a toddler, a dog, a cat, and a husband who is amazing but often forgets where he left his everything. But y’all, here we are.

New house problems.

Sigh.

It’s not that big a deal. Our washing machine is leaking, and we didn’t notice until it started actively dripping. Through the ceiling.

Because you know, we don’t have enough going on, and they do say that when it rains it pours. Apparently, through the ceiling.

The good news is, this should all be fixed relatively quickly. There’s not any real water damage, and no signs of mold, and the washing machine will either be an easy repair or an exciting replacement. (Because when you’re almost 40 with a toddler, a new washing machine that works better and faster is, in fact, very exciting.)

So, as always, onward. Dryly, hopefully.