Notes from a disaster area

I was griping this morning about the unreliable internet connection and the lack of phone service at our house and my husband said, "Remember, we are living in a disaster area."

Right. There is that. 

Thousands of people in my county still lack power and water, so spotty internet service and a nonfunctional landline are pretty small potatoes (although given the absence of cell coverage in our area, landlines still matter). 

I went to campus this morning for the first time since the storm hit and it sure doesn't look like a disaster area. Storm damage has been cleaned up quickly, leaving behind only a tangle of stories. In any human encounter, the first question following "hello" is "Do you have power?" The answer opens the floodgate for survival stories.

I've spoken to people outside our area who aren't even aware that we've been through the fire (and speaking of fire, my son has a job interview in Colorado Springs next week, so he'll be flying from one disaster area to another). Yesterday I cleaned the fridge and swept all reminders of the storm out of the house, so today everything looks pretty much normal. In fact, the only persistent reminder of the disaster is that nonfunctional landline. 

Hello? Hello? Is anybody there?