For the birds (and all things that fly)

I hope I don't regret this deciding-to-stay thing.

So since last night with me berating you all for panicking, Gooostav has moved almost southwest for a day, and the projected track hasn't changed very much. Yep, it's still pointed almost right at us. But I'm not scared. I am standing by my word(s): It's not coming here, dammit.

At least it won't hit on my birthday this time.

And besides, I have nature on my side. Don't believe me? Well, just read this -- paraphrased from a Ponchatoula man who called into Bob DelGiorno's radio show last night on WWL.

"Bob, you're going to call me crazy for this one, but I just have to tell you this. I have a nice-sized property up here with plenty of open space behind my house. I have a long fence line, and on that fence line is a long line of wasps' nests.

"Now Bob, there are thousands of wasps on this fence line, and I swear to you that three years ago, two weeks before SHE came, those wasps disappeared. They went and hid underneath an old outdrive motor. They went underneath an overhang. They were not on that fence line.

"People have been telling me for years to get rid of those things, but I won't. I went out there this afternoon, and they're all there. I believe that these things know when something bad is going to happen. And not just wasps, but birds, animals, everything. This isn't to say that I'm not concerned, but I feel a little better knowing the wasps don't seem to be too scared."

I don't think Mr. X from Ponchatoula is crazy at all. I think back to the morning of Aug. 28, 2005, when we decided to leave because of HER. Me and my bestest roommates of all time were heading out, and as I was standing outside waiting to take off, I noticed there were no birds flying. Anywhere. The birds in the nest that had been bothering us every night before we went to bed were gone. The trees had nothing on them but leaves. The wires stretched across the endless line of power poles were bare. Not a chirp. Not a peep. Just an eerie feel surrounding us. (Except these three parrots who looked like they had escaped from Jamaica or something. Weird. Very, very weird.)

I will never forget that. That quiet spoke volumes for what was about to come.

This one is different. I'd be a fool not to be concerned, as I have committed to staying this time, and I pray that I am not keeping my family in harm's way. (Although, I won't hesitate to have them leave if it looks Monday like it will be a repeat of '05.)

I just don't feel it, and I truly think I have been blessed with an innate gift of being able to predict these sorts of things. Maybe I was a bird in my past life. (Probably would have been a mockingbird, but that's for another blog.)

Maybe it's my momma telling me everything is going to be OK. I don't know. I just hope I'm right.

Be safe. Good luck. God Bless.