This business of Gustav gave me a restless night last night. And the night before.

Originally my plans had been to drive to New Orleans on Saturday and stay there next week. Now on Thursday I am anxiously watching the National Hurricane Center’s Web site for some indication of a change in the storm’s predicted track. Between Wednesday night and Thursday morning Gustav’s forecast path shifted slightly westward from the mouth of the Mississippi, placing Houma in its crosshairs instead of New Orleans.

Rosemary and I speak back and forth. She’s watching the local TV news in New Orleans. There’s one station there that is really sticking its neck out, forecasting a far more westerly shift than any of the other stations. We’re with that fellow.

Several of you have expressed your concern about Rosemary, the house on Laurel Street, even the damncats. Depending on where they put that track on Friday morning, Rosemary and I and maybe some of those damncats will be joining that mass exodus north in a few days.

When one friend who knows that I often take Amtrak to New Orleans called and asked me about my plans, I started telling him all about the track and and shifting the track to Houma and all that stuff I told you back up there in the second paragraph.

“What?” he asked, his voice somewhat incredulous.

I slowed down my explanation long enough for us both to realize with hearty belly laugh that he was thinking about the railroad while I was talking about the storm track. That kind of confusion is compounded among us during hurricane season.

And behind Gustav there’s Hanna.