Spring reflections

It looks like Hurricane Ike may have killed an estimated 31,000 Galveston trees on private property and an additional 11,000 on the city right of way. Quite a bit more than my simple-minded guess in the last post. The Texas Forest Service estimates that the cost of removing the trees from the public right of way will be $706,000.

The estimates are based on a two-day survey conducted last week by the Forest Service, the Galveston County AgriLife Extension Service and master gardener volunteers. The team surveyed 9.5 miles of trees, recording those with 50 percent or less of canopy.

Kay Bailey Hutchison and John Cornyn sent a letter last week to President Obama asking him to have FEMA extend the deadline for Texas claims. Guess this is where "Big Government" isn't so bad. even in the eyes of Texas Republicans.

Taking down all those trees is an emotional issue for many Galvestonians, and there is some urging to give the trees longer to recover. Roger Johnson, city parks superintendent, said the city would try to save as many trees as possible and to wait as long as possible before starting the cutting.

Things are looking up at UTMB. It would appear that the Texas Legislature has had sufficient pressure from neighboring counnties to get John Sealy Hospital back running as soon as possible. In spite of the storm, the medical school recruited medical students and residents of the same quality as pre-Ike and looks forward to remaining the top Texas medical school in National Board scores of its grads.

Our house is very close to finished. The burglar alarm isn't working yet, the dishwasher and a shower still leak. The ongoing issues with insurance companies are unresolved but appear to be moving in the right direction. We now have an SUV with a trailer hitch, and I hope to get the boat back in the bay for it's maiden run after Ike today.

Kathy is in Charleston for a week with her girlfriends, taking a break from the house and me. The Harley is about half reassembled, and my brother has adopted the 1967 BSA to re-restore after the flood.

It's been interesting to live without all the stuff that got stolen. I've replaced one TV and will buy one more. I'll probably replace the deer rifle but not the others. I'm living with fewer watches and still seem to know the time. Ditto for most of the other stuff. Seems our life needed a little thinning out anyway.

I've seen a number of new birds in the yard. This is time for many major migrations to move through the area, and our yard has always attracted birds, both for feeding and nesting. This morning, as I sat in my spa, a beautiful male indigo bunting perched very near me. Seems with only one's head protruding from the water, the human profile is not particularly threatening to most birds.

The local cemeteries do not mow this time of year so the wildflowers can take over. For those with an appreciation for history and natural beauty, a stroll through a Galveston boneyard is a nice way to spend an hour of springtime.


Cheers

Signs of life -- and not

The island is a'buzz - literally. About half the homes in our neighborhood are works in progress with the sound of power tools throughout. The other half are occupied, so one can assume that in another few months most everyone will be back. Amazingly, there are only two homes out of about fifty for sale. Looks like the insurance money is finally trickling in. We've seen only a fraction of what it has cost to get our house back in shape but our ordeal with the insurance companies is far from finished. We got hot water yesterday in all but one bathroom. Otherwise, with the exception of some needed painting and patch-up, we're looking okay.

The Texas Forest Service comes to Galveston next week to assess our poor oaks lining Broadway, the main drag into town. The oaks were either planted after the 1900 storm or after the 1912 storm, the more senior denizens I've asked aren't sure. They've flourished through every adversity since - til Ike. There are no new leaves on a hundred of these bare old-timers, and spring long ago sprung on the rest of the island.

The oaks, like the oleanders, the beach, and Old Red at the medical school, have been the talk of concern since the storm. The oleanders had little trouble coming back, and the beaches have never looked better. Old Red was built in 1890 on a foundation of deeply dug giant stones that 'floated' during the Ike's flood. The building is now quietly, slowly settling under the watchful eye of engineers that know about this stuff. It is not inhabited as the settling process continues, but everyone is optimistic that it will return to its former stability within a year.
That leaves only the oaks to symbolize the lasting damage.

UTMB is rehiring. The legislature is in what appears to be the final processes of approving appropriate funding for rebuilding the hospital beyond its former first-class status as a teaching institution. Like our neighborhood, most of the island is in a rebuilding phase with the tents gone and the little FEMA trailer neighborhoods nicely maintained. All the housing projects in town (which were eyesores) are being razed, and in their place will be new duplexes, designed in the architectural mode of the island during the nineteenth century. New made to look old - such is the way things are going here.

Those old oaks may have to go. Too bad nobody's yet figured out how to make a sapling look like it's been there for a century.