Saturday night

The models have shifted back east, so it's likely to pass right over us.

Let's see ... the game came off without a hitch (doing my sis a favor here and not giving away the score) and contraflow is scheduled to start tomorrow morning around 4 AM.

I touched base with my friend with all the family in New Orleans, and she won't have all the folks she had last time ... just her parents, brother, and a couple of guys who work with her brother.

Jeaux got the fence fixed, and we got the patio furniture moved into the shop. The bikes and garbage cans are strapped to the fence. All the clothes are clean. The dishes were all clean at 11, but lunch caused a few of them to get dirty again. We've checked in with all our friends and family. All we have left is church and plywood. And a last run to Albertson's to see if we can find any D batteries. We've got enough to run everything we've got (plus a few extras), but Jeaux wants a spare set. Just in case.

In one of those life-parallels that keep cropping up lately, one of our last acts of coping will be going to church tomorrow. I remember sitting in church the day before Katrina hit, and thinking about Jesus' prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane ... let this cup pass from me. And all the while knowing the answer. The sense of inevitability, of knowing what's coming, and being unable to do anything to change it, or even hurry it up so we can get on with the recovery. I imagine Jesus having that same thought: let's get on with it. Why do we have to wait so long? The sooner we get the crucifixion over, the sooner I can get on with the resurrection.

I'm just tired of waiting. Either bring it on, or shut it down.