This is from my paper journal. If only I’d had a quill pen! The pictures were taken on Sunday during the Storm. The title of this entry was inspired by LB who called me up saying that she was driving around Armageddon looking for gasoline.
It’s the second night of living like an urban primative. I write by candlelight, and I’ve come to understand that D cell batteries are a commodity on par with gasoline. I was glad to go to work this morning because it meant I could charge my cell phone. I’ve lost all of the perishables in the fridge. If the ‘lectric comes on soon, I may be able to salvage what was frozen — yes past tense.
The grocery behind my house was totally packed this afternoon. I was ready to do the Old Louisville on Christmas Eve thing a couple of times. [That means to shop from another's cart if they have what you want, the shelf doesn't, and they aren't paying attention.] At home, I’m thrilled I have a battery powered radio and can listen to NPR.
Through all of this there have been a lot of sirens in the neighborhood — and what sounds like the fire from large sized guns. None of the sirens stop. They just roll through. 
I sent a friend of mine in Dayton an e-mail [via cell phone] telling him that I’m “I am one of the 250k without power because a hurricane hit KY.” His response was: “Same in Ohio. No power at all.” Where’s FEMA?
I know that the groceries that remained open are making a killing on this storm. I’m a little miffed that a cop was running people off who were trying to plug into the store’s outdoor power sockets to power their cell phones. Come one folks, have some heart.
