Well, there was.The waitress at Pappas's diner said she'd be fine getting blown away to some other place but alas, we're all right back where we started. Things here on Wildflower Rd. are reasonably in order. We had some brutal wind and battering rains. The trees swayed like drunken Hula girls shedding their grass skirts and showing an unseemly amount of leg. Most of the action took place in the night only waking me around 4 a.m. with what sounded like some angry beast banging against the windows and the walls. Once I heard it I had a hard time ignoring it. The wind would rise and then suddenly go still only to come back stronger and louder. By the time the morning came everything was covered in shredded leaves, clumps of branches and acorns strewn over everything. The slab of wood that rests on the deck is an ancient root from China that now has a colony of mushrooms growing from all its crevices. Mushrooms are growing everywhere in all shapes and sizes. Some of them very oddly shaped and in a range of weird colors.
The mood inside was strange. It felt like waiting for the bad guys that you knew were waiting on the other side of the door. I felt strangely restless but was unable to concentrate on anything; not the TV, my book or fashion. I just sat or lay waiting. I made calls to my mother every few hours to give her a report on what was happening here and to find out how she was doing. She was cheerful and happily reading in her den. After the eye passed the real performance began with not so much rain as more and more wind. It clocked in at 65 mph at different points taking the trees and whipping their heads back and forth and around in circles. the ground was strangely still but 30-50 feet up things were crazy. The deer that graze contentedly on every lawn and in the middle of most roads were no where to be found. It was the turkeys who treated the event as an invitation to a buffet. I looked out the windows and on the road at the bottom of the driveway was a flock casually strolling through the debris sampling this morsel and that. The bugs, worm life and baby vegetation was laid out on a gigantic platter for their delectation. They had to have been tossed from their aeries high in the trees to wander the deserted ground.
We lost power for only moments at a time which was a blessing. I shower when I'm freaked out and took several. It was an opportunity to play dress up in all my different sets of pajamas and bath robes. I discovered that my Bottega Veneta celadon shearling slippers actually go with every bedtime outfit I could dream up. They're even better with nothing to distract the eye. Tomas Maier is a genius. See, fashion has a place in every corner of our lives. Its not just those public occasions but the private moments when it means the most. I imagined what I would wear if we had to be evacuated which was totally different if we were rescued. No matter which way the wind blew I knew that Bottega Veneta celadon shearling slippers were the anchor to my look. It made the rest of the ordeal so much easier to bare. My mind was clear and ready to rake, chainsaw or blog my way out of this mess.
It was a comfort to know that I wasn't alone in my disaster preparedness. The stores on Main St. and Newtown Lane were sans plywood and open for business. Retail salvation was generously made available to all and sundry. East Hampton was like a shelter with cashmere, jewels, tennis togs, everything Ralph: RRL, Purple Label, kiddz, and Rugby, Sneakerologists, art, bad art and all of it over-priced, along with real estate. I was particularly gratified to see Joseph Altuzzara strolling down Main extolling the obvious benefits of fashion shopping therapy to the masses. They huddled around him like hummingbirds to a trough of nectar. Yes, fashion will lead us to safety.
* For those of you who actually suffered in the hurricane, I don't mean to diminish your situation or to offend. I turned on the news and saw my bookkeeper's ex's restaurant in the Catskills sitting in the middle of a rushing river and not safely on its banks like a few days ago. My prayers go out to Walter and everyone in Margaretville, Phoenicia and 2 other communities up there that are almost completely under water. So many of us were incredibly fortunate to come through this unscathed.
Yves Carcelle’s Legacy
12 hours ago