Ivan, Monday, 5 AM

Coordinates of Ivan - 26.1 N, 87.7 W. Hurricane tracking. We have children here who can't read, yet, but can plot the path of a hurricane. And others whose families have memories so painful or so fearful they faithfully leave town 48 hours in advance of the storm.

I asked my own college-age daughter not to come home for this one. She's great company, and I will and do miss her, but there is really nothing she can do here - except listen to the wind and the rain once it begins. She'll have quite enough going on in Baton Rouge

As for me this morning, I'm watching the animals. Animals seem to know more than we know, much sooner. I have one dog and one cat, each acquired after the demise of relationships I thought would last forever. As I am in the process of moving from a large house to a smallish apartment, I've got no room for more pets - so I've decided to avoid intense relationships.

When I arrived home yesterday afternoon, the two of them were in anxiety mode. Perhaps they were absorbing my own tension - more than perhaps. But they were whining and rubbing and seeking my attention as they normally don't do. This morning, now that the major preparations have been made and I am more relaxed into the waiting, Bella is busying herself with her morning ablution, and Moose is curled in his bed after an early morning "walk."

It is not yet daylight, and I sit here watching the news. They are showing overhead shots of traffic on the interstate backed up from New Orleans to Baton Rouge. Those folks have been leaving New Orleans since yesterday afternoon or earlier. I have no regrets about staying.

But then, I'm not 9 feet below sea level.