Storm Nika crisis is over
<p>I&#8217;m back home with the power on.  Normal hacking and blogging will resume.</p>
<p>There&#8217;s four days I don&#8217;t want to have to do over again.  Cold, stress, constant fatigue, consequent inability to concentrate&#8230;being a disaster-displaced person, it turns out, is psychologically difficult even if you have money and a good support network and a hotel in a First World country to fall back on.</p>
<p>The difference between voluntarily breaking your routine and having it forcibly ruptured for you really matters.  I&#8217;m a pretty adventurous sort, normally utterly unfazed by travel and novelty and cheerfully willing to go on extended away missions, but this time I got barely a lick of work done on my laptop &#8211; I found myself aching for <em>my</em> desk and <em>my</em> computer and <em>my</em> routine.</p>
<p>Not just me, either.  Cathy was working hard on not complaining but she was looking rather pinched and drawn by day two.  I think of the three of us our cat coped best; by the time we relocated her from the frigid shell of Chez Raymond to my mother&#8217;s house on Day Three her attitude was clearly &#8220;as long as beloved humans are nearby, I&#8217;m OK&#8221;.  </p>
<p>Sugar is so amiable that it&#8217;s easy not to notice that she&#8217;s as tough as old boot leather.  She turned 21 during the storm.  And no, you wouldn&#8217;t have been able to tell she&#8217;s the feline equivalent of a centenarian; she investigated my mother&#8217;s place as bright-eyed and curiously as a kitten.  Did us both good to see it.</p>
<p>Upcoming:  More on the Dark Enlightenment, a progress report on the Emacs repository conversion, and maybe a review of the Julia language.  But I have to dig myself out from under some backlog first.</p>
