If I seem erratic, or odd, it's because Katrina has pushed about every button on my panel. I read this yesterday:

One of my friends asked if I could go in the house first, for in the back room they had to leave their birds in their cage; they had to leave them behind because they didn't have anyway to transport them. Several of their local friends said that they would go into the house and get them, but no further contact could be made due to the phone lines being down. Stepping over fallen wires and broken limbs, I climbed the porch and crawled over the massive tree that had fallen across the yard and porch. I placed the key in the deadbolt and after several attempts, finally got the lock undone and opened the door and was greeted with a musty and damp smell. I made my way to the back of the house and parted the curtain that closed off the back room from the rest of the house and looked into the bird cage, hoping that their friends had made it by and taken the birds out. Please, please, please, please.

I buried them in the back yard in the garden. Neither of them could do it and they asked me to take care of it. A little over a month ago during my birthday trip to New Orleans (which marked my 15th trip to the city in 5 years), I sat on the back porch with them as they sang and talked to me. As I dug the hole to place them in, I realized that I had gone numb. When I found them, they were lying at the bottom of the cage; much like two lovers might do if they knew that their time on this earth was ending, facing each other and their bodies were so close, like they were holding one another. That image will never leave my mind.

That's from Nola.com, NOLA in Exile.

So, you see, I am a silly southern girl.

How many ways can you find to break my heart?