Gap Evacuee Tells Story

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The black van slid to a halt and the good doctor ejected himself from the shotgun seat. a€oeWea€™re evacuating!a€A he said, as he and two friends race-walked toward his house, next door to ours. Hea€™d had to talk his way past the police to get up the hill from Cathedral Oaks, sliding by only because his friends from Carp had left two Labs in his back yard before theya€™d gone to dinner.

Suzanne and I had been having our own dinner on Thursday evening when the lights finally died, after a half-hour of fritzing televisions and power-surging phone messages. We were in the Dream House, the one wea€™d bought in 2001 and moved into exactly one month ago. Wea€™d nested after extensive renovation, doing all the little things you do to make a place yours, down to the anal stuff of alphabetizing books by author, within categories, or happily noting when the hummingbirds found the feeder. When I flew back to the Chicago area for my last graduation as a professor and to check out our for-sale house there, the going-away salutations were tearful but Ia€™d already moved West in my head. I missed our cocoon. via independent

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