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abwhite
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Well, we went back to the house a little over a week ago. Driving in was, to say the least, creepy. No part of Saint Bernard Parish looked in tact. Right before the police check-in, we came upon this: Here's a lovely shot of the mold we were breathing those two afternoons we spent trying to sort through all this disaster: Well, we're still at Joe's folks' house in a S. Jersey suburb of Philly. We're trying to find an apartment ad job before the baby is born next month, so that this already crowded house doesn't become unbearable for everyone. The only thing I should be worrying about right now is where to hang the fucking mobile over the crib, not trying to find a new home with my unemployed husband (UNO is officially wrongfully terminating him once his vacation time is used up) in a part of the country I've never had any interest or inclination to live in. Self pity is pretty much my dominant emotion. That is except when the nephews are over here keeping me exhausted. People here have been really wonderful to us, which makes me feel like a real shit for hating this situation so much.
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2005-10-18 |
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The eight feet of water and sludge that surged through the house knocked the fridge over. We were excited to have been able to save the magnets.
