Waiting to get pummeled

So here we sit, Zip, husband, and I, waiting for Frances to come howling 'round the windows.

Wind, rain, and hail -- and hurricanes often spawn tornadoes as well. Most of our downstairs neighbors have sandbagged around their entry doors in the hope that, if we experience flooding, it won't be serious enough to creep in.

Some people have left town. There are some empty parking spaces around the neighborhood. At work, we distracted ourselves by debating the idea of leaving versus staying put.

But, really, where would we go?

• The gas stations have almost universally run out of gas.
• People who evacuate from the coastal areas generally come here first.
  
• The interstate highways were bumper-to-bumper yesterday.
• Frances is so large, I've heard forecasters compare it to the state of Texas. What's the point of getting on the road, just to ride out the storm in a hotel with strangers? We may as well be at home with neighbors and friends.
• We live on the second floor on relatively high ground. If our actual home space were flooded, most of Florida would have to be underwater. More or less.

But hey, we've got electricity, for now. Bananas, popcorn, peanut butter, tuna fish. Candles and a radio that can be hand-cranked to run. At least six hours of battery power for the computer. And two full liters of vodka that we bought on vacation, duty-free!