Saturday, August 29, 2009

Katrina and Aunt Liz

Four years ago, Hurricane Katrina devastated portions of the Gulf Coast. One of the hardest hit areas was New Orleans and its suburb, Slidell, which is located on the northeast shore of Lake Pontchartrain.



Of one the Slidell residents who chose to ride out the storm, was my Aunt Liz. She decided to batten down the hatches with my Uncle Bob a WWII veteran, who was diabetic and on dialysis. The storm with a fury. Then we waited anxiously for four days to hear if they had survived.



Aunt Liz is received the Underwood gift of dramatic storytelling and has enthralled us all with her account Katrina and the ordeal afterward. I asked her to write it down for this blog.



Here is Part One of her story:



"The Not So Calm Before the Storm"



To prepare, I braved the long lines at several stores making purchases of bottled water, batteries, canned food and several lanterns. The shoppers were frantic, the shelves were almost bare and it was every man for himself.



By Aug. 4th the TV weathermen were whipping everyone into a frenzy to evacuate . Tina, Georgia,Mike, Laine, Hannah and Kyle were heading to West Monroe to stay with the Rays in West Monore, about a 5 hour drive.



They pleaded with us to leave with them almost to the point of kidnapping us, but we stood firm. About 11 hours later, they called to say it was "bumper to bumper" and they'd just arrived in West Monroe. Bob and I smiled smugly nodding that we had indeed made a smart decision in staying. Bobby called from Hawaii late that night saying "Get Out" and go to Kellly's folks in Baton Rouge. This suggestion planted a seed that would later be a godsend to us a refugees.



After watching the last dire TV warnings, I turned the AC to 60 in order to store up extra cool for when the electricity went out. We went to bed , said some prayers and settled in for a good nights sleep in what would be the last time we sleep in that bed.



"The Storm"



Noisy winds awakened us around 5 a.m. Aug. 5. I cooked a big breakfast of eggs and bacon, biscuits and lots of strong coffee, knowing we'd soon lose power. Anne called to check on us, and I happily replied that we'd watched a few trees topple, but all was well. I called my friends who live near us in a very wooded area to check on them. They are in our age group ,and over their children's wishes had also decided to ride it out. All was well with them, except for a few downed trees. They were going back to bed to get some sleep before the AC was lost !!! They later had to be fork lifted out because of downed trees.



After breakfast, we went upstairs to get dressed and do a little paper work. Soon trees were toppling at a faster pace on the golf course and in our yard. I suggested we'd be safer staying downstairs. Guess I had an "Underwood premonition." The AC was out, but the coffee was still hot, so we sipped coffee, listened to the radio reports of the severity of Katrina's havoc and watched our huge 40 year old Magnolia gracefully topple over, missing our house by a few yards.



Suddenly our house shook like a Mac truck had hit it. We felt like we had whip lash. It was the gigantic pine tree that had fallen on our patio . It had smashed in the roof, but the fallen boards had created triangular protection over Bob's golf cart and he was euphoric of this. Little did we stop to think that this gigantic pine tree had a top that had to land somewhere.



A few minutes later I went upstairs to get a book and was greeted with the sight of pink insulation flying everywhere due to tree limbs in the upstairs hall. Stepping into our bedroom, the shocking sight an exposed attic, a tree in our bed, caved over walls, a window knocked out with the back wall hanging on by a thread.



Very, very gingerly I made my way through the wrecked bathroom to the closet which was missing half a wall. Rain was pouring in from every opening in the bedroom and closet roof and walls. Some of the debris would have surely fallen on us had we not been downstairs. My reaction was to scream," Oh, no, Bob come up here carefully."



His reply before going up was "Liz, aren't you overreacting a bit". Upon seeing the destruction, his blood sugar went haywire and he "Said Liz, get a broom and clean up this mess". He then tried to push a piece of wall back into place . The results being more wall fell on him , knocking him into a big pile of insulation and sheet rock.



Thankfully, he sustained only a few cuts and bruises. After settling Bob into what we hoped was a safe corner downstairs, I went back up where clothes were rain saturated papers from our desk were flying everywhere. I tugged our two filing cabinets our of the closet and pulled them to dry ground downstairs. I also tossed clothing from the closet,papers from the desk and wet clothing from the chest of drawers downstairs.



After that ,we huddled in what we felt would be a safe area downstairs and listened to radio reports. More bad news was to happen to our old house. Soon water from above came pouring out of my oven, light fixtures and ceiling. I went into the garage to get some buckets to catch the water to use to flush with as we had no water pressure.



Oh, oh. there was a tree poking out of our garage roof with water pouring in. I got the buckets and some heavy duty hedge clippers and a saw,to use in getting out after the storm as all of our doors were blocked by downed trees.



I also got the shotgun, but couldn't find the ammo. It was a very long day and night. At one point we heard wind of a different sound and watched as the huge holly tree in our circle was split in two and lifted up. Some of the few remaining trees were being twisted in all manner of directions. Guess it was a small whirlwind of sorts.



We continued to listen to radio reports which kept stating that it would soon pass over Slidell. Not so. It would be about 1 the next morning before the winds left us. By bedtime it was unbearably hot, so we opened windows in the front of the house and tried for a little sleep on the sofa and floor.



I had the unloaded shotgun handy because the radio warned of looting. Our neighbor worked his way into the street with a chainsaw the next day and he and his boys stood guard the next night at the entrance to our cul de sac. He actually did fire a few warning shots in the air at a group walking down the street that night. They quickly heeded the warning.



Coming soon: "After the Storm"

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Don't Miss the Bus; Don't Miss the Point

The message wasn't just on a sign, it filled an entire billboard:

Don't Miss the Bus!!! Apple Realty, Inc. Henry County Foreclosure Tours.

It even had a picture of a cute little bus, complete with an Apple Reality logo and a sticker declaring: Henry County Foreclosure Tour.
I bet the cute little bus is even a hybrid, so you can ride around the county sipping your skinny decaf, dreaming of luxury home ownership, and feeling good that you're not leaving a big carbon footprint in your wake.

Only there's nothing to feel good about.

The thrill of getting a great deal on a fabulous house is tainted by the misfortune of the person who used to own it.

Getting a $300,000 house at $215,000 should make you feel great, right?

Suddenly, I'm not so sure.

I have this weird thing about not wanting to live in a house where someone has died. To me, living in a foreclosure would be nearly the same thing. Somebody's dream has died. Hope has run out. The only alternative was to leave or be kicked out.

Enter raw humility.

When my brother and his wife were looking for a house, a realtor gave them the lock box combination of a freshly foreclosed house. The owner's belongings were in the front yard, soaked with dew.

Inside were remnants of the previous occupants. Unused diapers. An ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts. The smell of haste was still in the air.

I know I'm guilty of saying "greed" is behind the burst housing market bubble. People bought homes they couldn't afford with money they didn't (yet) have, with loans pitched by people who were more interested in commissions than matching people with a home they could actually pay for.

I want to say now I'm sorry for making such assumptions. Forgive me, for judging.

There are many, many stories behind the foreclosures that have nothing to do with greed. Long term unemployment, illness, divorce and exes who don't pay child support are a few I can think of.

Proverbs 18:17 says, "The first to present his case seems right, till another comes forward and questions him."

What seems one way on the surface, might actually be something else entirely.

For example, look at my and my husband's situation. We have two houses. Are we the evil rich with a mountain home, five pontoon boats and a gold-plated Cadillac?

No. When we got married, we each had a house. More than two years later, we still have two houses, two mortgages, two sets of utility bills and two lawns to maintain. This summer, the air conditioners in both houses broke.

We're got the extra house for sale and won't make a penny profit. But in this market, only prayers will sell it. And yes, we're praying fervently for a buyer.

And we THANK GOD every day for providing enough to keep us afloat.

Years ago, I went on a "Graveline Tour" of Los Angeles. An out-of-work actor in a hearse drove us by the homes of dead Hollywood celebrities and the seedy places they died. I think the Apple Foreclosure tour would give me the same feeling. A dull feeling of exploitation.

It's OK to go on the Apple Realty Foreclose tour. I'm not saying it's wrong. After all, Realtors have to make a living too. And the faster the foreclosures are off the market, the faster other homes will start selling again, including our "extra" house in the country.

Just be careful not to feel too smug when you find that deal of the century. Exorcise the ghosts of broken dreams. And remember to say a prayer for the family that used to live there.

Pray that better things are ahead for them.

Make that all of us.

Friday, July 3, 2009

Puppies!


If you love puppies, like I do, check out the new litter from Karowood Goldens. So cute, you don't mind the puppy breath!
If you're thinking about buying or adopting a Golden Retriever puppy or adult dog, click here for useful info.
Now my dogs need a belly rub...

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Pause

The need for rest has overwhelmed my desire for blogging lately. I have a really good idea for one today, but am just too sleepy. I'm so close to sleeping, I'm peering through my eyelashes as I type this.

I am also having trouble logging into Google with my Foxfire browser. It just reset the page each time I try to log in. If you've had this trouble too and know how to fix it, I'd appreciate the info.

P.S. I am doing some "microblogging" on Twitter when I feel up to it. Look for me there as ExcellentCandy.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Remembering Bailey














Bailey Underwood Lyons
August 25, 2000-June 30, 2008

Friday, June 26, 2009

The Exhibit Chronicles, Part IX

The Winsor Gallery exhibit is tonight and I think, I hope, it will include a painting of mine that has never been exhibited before. It was too controversial for another local art group that I once belonged to, because it is a nude. Gasp!

It's the most innocuous nude possible and could even be a swimsuit if you ignore the belly button. The art group wouldn't allow nudes "because children might see them." And I gather, because parents might be upset.

I remember seeing nude paintings and sculptures when I was in school and giggling about them. It's a matter of opinion, but I don't think they harmed me. And as a grown-up, painting nudes has only increased my awe of what an incredible artist and engineer our God is.

I call this one "Figure Envy" and I think you can figure out the meaning, given that I painted it green. I did this one in art class back when I took them at the Atlanta College of Art, back when the ACA existed. We had figure models on a regular basis and I think I painted this one in the last 30 minutes of class. It was the best one, of course.

If you go to the opening reception tonight and it's there, let me know. I'm curious. Click here for your invitation. Tell them I sent you.

I'd also love to hear your feedback on any of the paintings. Enjoy the show!

Thursday, June 25, 2009

The Exhibit Chronicles, Part VIII

These next two paintings are similar in theme, but are rooted in two different realities.

"A Pocketbook Full of Posies" was painted from an Ann Taylor ad in a magazine. You may not realize it's a purse without being told, but then it's obvious. I think I added the birds to give it some life and painting unreal birds is delicious fun.
This is also one of my most textured paintings. I used loads of oil paint and it took months to dry. You really want to touch it and consider permission granted. If someone at the gallery says something about you touching it, tell them it's OK and to check my blog.

Click on the painting if you want a closer look at the texture.

The other painting is also oil and floral, but it's based on real roses that I painted at another art student's rose garden. It was early summer and scorching hot. I completed the painting while I was there. I was stiff from staying still that long and in a lot of pain but I loved the end result. And yes, the roses really looked like that and were clumped that closely together.

The opening reception for the show is tomorrow night and you're invited but you have to call to make a reservation. Here's the info. I really wish I could be there but I have another commitment that was scheduled long ago. I hope my blog helps put me "there" in a cyber sort of way. The exhibit will be there for a few weeks and I'll definitely be stopping by to check out the other artists' work.