Here's what my kitchen looked like after Wilma. What doesn't come through here is the smell of the soy sauce, sesame oil and cat food and the squishy, slidy feeling underfoot. There are still shards of dishes and glassware in the oven.
Everyone has their storm story. Every meeting in town now starts with an account of how each attendee fared. Overheard conversations include the phone number of a good cleaning person and comparisons of the benefits of Ambien versus Lunesta sleep aids.
The new replacement cars are turning up. "I got an SUV for my wife, a little Toyota for me and a Honda for my mother," said a friend. People are buying six packs of cars.
Duval Street downtown looks nice and tidy, but travel into the neighborhoods and the roads are sad little paths between six-foot tall piles of debris. It's dreary to see books, beds, big-screen TVs, computers and barbecue grills dumped at the curb alongside the washers, refrigerators and hot water heaters. And our trees look so wearied.
The good news, though, is the weather is terrific -- cool and breezy, low humidity. Makes ya' feel like cleaning, fortunately enough.