As the outer bands of the hurricane passed through our neighborhood all day yesterday, I waited for the power to go off. Last year, the three hurricanes knocked our power off each time, ranging from a couple of hours to several days. Power outages are just par for the course. Since we are seasoned hurricane residents, we turned our A/C down real low to get the house cold in expectation of the ensuing hot, humid stillness afterward.

But it never came.

Not disappointed, we were surprised to have only a flooded yard, no sewage (because the septic ground is saturated), sticks and twigs everywhere, a few dead plants, and a loose fence gate. What is more exciting, though, is that turning down our A/C was in vain. Yes, the hurricane brought in a cold front. It is in the 70’s here now, and the kids raided the winter coat closet and asked for a fire last night. I can hear the “How can you spot a Floridian?” jokes coming already.

Our local media were sorely disappointed on the lack of devastation. They live for the hype. I overheard my seven-year-old muse about a local meteorologist, “Tom Terry thinks it’s the end of the world every time it rains.” It appears my son has been hanging out with his dad again.

Everyone on our street was not as fortunate to keep their power, and so, sleeping with the windows open is disturbed with the loud buzzing of generators. Generators and blue tarped roofs are as common as backyard swimming pools. But on the bright side, at least there is room in the garage for such items since we don’t store snow blowers.