Hurricane Kyle is coming to dinner.
They say. Frankly (and this is the attitude that's going to bite me in the ass some day) I'm really tired of the frantic running around, stocking up, tying everything down, hunkering down and the waiting that comes whenever a big storm hits.
Most of the storms that blow up the coast of the States peter out with a few breaths of wind and some warm rain, then clear out to beautiful sunsets and mild days.
Then, five years ago, there was Juan. Ohmygosh, there was Juan. You can still see the scars on the woods near Halifax from that today. Juan taught a lot of people how to prepare, and the value of being good neighbors. Emergency Preparedness went up, as did volunteering, province-wide.
It was no longer acceptable to think someone else would take care of the old woman who lived alone in the house on the corner, or to not join a Neighborhood Watch or stand ready to help in whatever way you could.
After all, we were in this together.
That was five years ago. The ideals we aspired to have slipped. We're more home-centred, more thinking of our own kids than the neighborhood's, more complacent.
I wonder, will it take another disaster to make us come together again?
And I wonder, is this how it felt in the world wars?