WALLYWORLD WONDERLAND - The Sequel
Scene: Wal-Mart, surburbs of Houston, 1:30 pm, five days Post-Ike.

Feels a little like getting-back-to-normal at first glance. Lights are on. Shoppers are everywhere.

We talk to a neighbor coming in who also has her two boys with her. She is still without power but is "doing fine", the common refrain in our area.

Bread is back up. Stockers are everywhere, loading supplies on to shelves that disappear soon after arrival. The fruit is back in full force, including the plums.

We walk past the beer aisle without looking. We are simply on a quest for dairy products today. We saw a man in the parking lot with milk in his cart and exchanged gleeful pleasantries with him.

We find the milk, but it is going fast. A few pudding and yogurt items sit forlornly in the dairy shelves. Butter is not back online, which dashes my hopes for finding ingredients to make cookies. Eggs are nonexistent as well. Guess I will have to postpone further baking urges.

Canned food aisle is packed with shoppers. We don't even go there.

Meat case stands obscenely empty, as does the frozen foods. There is ice cream though, which we get, with cones to go with it. At least the boys will have some sweet treats.

We hike all the way down to the pets section because my husband's pre-storm estimate that we had "lots" of dog food was, in fact, false. I am sure the dogs are glad that Wal-Mart is back online, although maybe they secretly hoped we would run out and not be able to get more dog food, in which case we would have to feed them what we were eating.

Which, tonight, is pizza, because now I have cheese again. Last night we had company, a couple we are friends with who still don't have power, and I made chicken soup with biscuits on top. Before that, we were still trying to finish off leftover casseroles and foods prepared over the grill, skillets of hash browns that were going soggy in a powerless freezer, meat we had to use or lose.

Large groups of shoppers talk excitedly about their experiences, joyful to be alive and see some semblance of normalcy return.

The traffic lights are working on this side of town, and the lines for gas are down to only two deep per pump. All the fast food places seem to be up and running a booming business.

We are still glued to the Hurricane Ike Aftermath on the TV, now that we have power, and the radio before, our lifeline to the world outside our door. Kids haven't had school all week and I was told not to return to work until further notice. This day, 1.3 million Centerpoint customers are still without power. Overall, the reporters say it may be close to 3 million still in the dark, without A/C or ice.

We are adding words to our cultural lexicon, things like "FEMA pods" and "LED lanterns". People are finding that camping skills come in handy, and sometimes flattened fences open boundaries with their neighbors. Generators are in short supply.

And meanwhile, we are all in suspense, waiting. Waiting for friends to call us and let us know they are okay. Waiting to see people come back online, on forums and networking sites. Waiting to go back to work, to school. Waiting to not talk about Ike anymore.

Waiting for life to be "normal" again.