Vegan pancakes in Jacksonville

Dr. Duncan and Monkey finally made it to Jacksonville yesterday. Today, a week after packing the truck, he should begin moving into his new place. Hopefully everything stayed safe and dry in the back of the Uhaul. Here’s his update:

Through the gale force winds we drove. Southward, Eastward, on and on! Monkey on my lap, purring softly as the sheets of rain hammered against the truck in a syncopated code. I arrived at my hotel shortly after one only to find that they were closed due to a power outage. I drove the awkward truck with station wagon in tow through the tight, tree littered streets of the city and met with landlords and viewed apartments. Monkey, waited patiently in the truck, hiding beneath the seat so that no one would know she was there (what a good security cat).

We met with some very warm and trusting individuals and agreed upon an apartment. The landlord invited me to come with he and his wife to the symphony, which I had to decline as I had to find a resting place for my weary traveling companion. We agreed instead to have breakfast at his bed n’ breakfast and sign the contract over vegan blueberry pancakes. I made my way across the flooded river to the only affordable working hotel and secured a room. One can smell the water damage. Monkey and I scurried in just as a thunderstorm (Fay residual) hammered the city.

So, I’m here and I’m nearly settled into a place. I’ve only to sign and hire movers to unpack me. It’s going to be quite a change, but as I lived in Louisville for most of my life, it’s not completely a culture shock.

Dear Duncan, I hate you. Love, Tropical Storm Fay

Duncan in the Flood

Professor Barlow ran into Tropical Storm Fay on his way to Jacksonville. Yesterday Duncan posted this update from a hotel in Georgia:

Well, it seems that Tropical Storm Fay is a bit of an anomaly. In fact, the only storm in US history to behave at all like Fay, was a storm in 1964. Fay hit Florida on the Gulf side, gained speed over land (which is rare) by pulling water from the Everglades, popped back into the Atlantic, came back ashore, popped back into the Atlantic, and is now slowly going west after pausing over the coast for nearly a day. I have been holed up in a roadside hotel in Georgia for three days waiting for the storm to clear so that I can find a place to live in Florida. Many streets are flooded (alligators, snakes, fish, and other wildlife are swimming through the city streets in some areas — like the neighborhood I’m looking at).

I had a bout of the stomach flu yesterday to boot. All this being said…I’m still “moving” and have not “moved.” I have not seen my new city, nor have I stepped foot in it. I have yet to meet my colleagues at the college, nor see my office. I am bored out of my mind and I’m tired of feeling displaced.

Things could always be worse. Of this I am well aware. However, for someone who reluctantly left the lovely city of Denver, this is a funny situation. Tomorrow I will leave this hotel. I will still have to drive through the storm for a few hours, but at least this way I’ll be able to get a hotel in the new city; right now no one is answering their phones because the power is out. That’s the update. More later.

Lion Sized Moving Co.

As I write this, Duncan “Swerves” Barlow is driving a 15-foot U-Haul truck loaded with music gear, books, a few trash bags full of clothes, and other belongings (many of them covered with a thick layer of white cat fur). Monkey is riding in the cab with her favorite human, Daddy, her meow reduced to a hoarse squeak after two days of near-constant motion — east, away from Denver, toward a new home in Jacksonville.

Loading that truck was the last thing any of us wanted to do. Sorry you had to go, and good luck. We’ll miss you.