Tree trucks....

There are huge trucks in our subdivision now, as well as fork-lift machines which can grab the massive piles of branches, limbs, and tree trunks that are lining every inch of curb-grass on each and every street. The Powers That Be have started to clean up the tons of tree debris that Ike's winds left on our streets.

And I swear, the piles of tree branches have been growing every day. I think homeowners are looking around their property for any and all green things that they no longer want on their lots. I would imagine that they're figuring that as long as the city is going to be picking up all this tree-trash, then they may as well take advantage of the opportunity to just fling out a small tree or a large branch and add it to the pile. Some of the four-foot high tree piles are now way over my head and you can't see from one side of the street to the other. I've noticed all of this as I walk through the subdivision every evening. It's hard not to notice the newer, greener branches on top of the brittle brown ones that have been at the curb-side for nearly two weeks.

The neighbors are starting to calculate how long it will take those trucks to get from one side of the subdivision to the other. I'm just hoping that the piles of tree-stuff will be gone before Halloween. There has already been one article in the Chronicle about a little girl being hit (and killed) by a car because she walked out into the street from her driveway and couldn't be seen by the driver because of the six-foot pile of tree branches that was in front of her house. If all the tree debris is still around on Halloween night, that's just one more thing that parents will have to worry about. Thankfully, we have rules for Halloween night here-- kids can't go out without adults, and trick-or-treating lasts for just two hours.

Halloween..... the decorations in this house have multiplied, and everything is out of the storage cabinet and arranged around the house. Miss C was over here twice, to help decorate. School has been out since Ike came through, so she had plenty of time on her hands. C is taking care of four long-horns, as part of an FFA project in her school. Each steer has its own personality, C says, and they are all learning to respond to C's voice, and she's trying to teach them to learn their names. She has to care for them every day after school-- brush them, wash them down, give them food and water, clean out their stalls, and she reads to them (which was her own idea-- C thought it would be a good way for them to get used to her voice). Last year's project was one tiny little bunny; this year's project is four huge long-horns.

Our neighbors have already been RSVP-ing to the Halloween party invitations. Well, so this is what it takes to get everyone to take an RSVP seriously: a hurricane. Seems that everyone is so thankful that we were spared anything worse than fallen tree limbs and smashed fences, and all the neighbors are excited to have the party to look forward to. One neighbor told me that she was going to come to the party as "a hurricane survivor who had to live without power for six days." I restrained myself from reminding her that parts of the greater Houston area are still without power, and Galveston Island is still without running water, as well as not having power.

The Chronicle continues to publish photographs of Galveston and the near-by waterfront areas. The devastation is unreal, when I see the pictures in the newspaper, but all-too-real, I'm sure, for those who have been living in the midst of it all. The Seabrook and Kemah areas here are still cleaning out from the four to six feet of water that was in their streets and in their homes.

We have not had one single drop of rain since Ike came through here. Every day, except for the early morning after the hurricane, has been picture-postcard perfect. Blue skies, fluffy clouds, blessedly gorgeous days. The kind of weather that makes us all grateful to be living in southeast Texas in the first place. When you enjoy these pretty days, you never think that a hurricane can swirl in from the Gulf and tear everything to pieces in a matter of hours.

"Too close to the coast." That's what most of our neighbors are now saying. We always thought we were far enough away from Galveston Bay here. Not far enough, depending on the strength of the hurricane and the level of the storm surge. We were lucky this time. So very, very lucky. I wish that the small towns closer to the waterfront had been as lucky. My husband and I drove down there one day last week. It looked like a war-zone on most of the tiny streets near the Bay. Fences down, cars wrecked, wet furniture piled up at the sides of driveways, trees leaning against houses, and everyone was outside their homes looking for "keep-able" things in the piles of debris. When we came home to our post-hurricane-perfect house, it made me appreciate it all the more.