Chance of Flooding with Moderate Possibility of Apocalypse
It's a lazy afternoon reading some but taking a break and listening to a playlist by an old friend. Some great familiars and lots of new rhythms. Putting Out Fire with Gasoline is thrumming now. 'See these eyes, so green I can stare for a thousand years.' Well, blue in my case, but I hear you David. I can see through time... but I'm blind for practical things. My vision seems to be emotion and creative only. Both forward and back. Sort of a free-ride-when-you've-already-paid situation. Bowie could *really* write. Speaking of things needed to put out fires... The rain won't stop. That's great. Our drought meter went from severe to 'normal'. Not sure if that means 'drought:normal' more like the Caribbean patois of 'everyting's irie, mon'. I can't imagine we're facing drought though. April gave us ten and a half inches of rain. We're already at almost two for May. The rivers are backing up and expected to start spilling into neighborhoods tonight. The city has brought in swift-water rescue teams and put out a call for vounteers. Maybe I should dust off my whitewater gear. Maybe I'll leave that to the pros and do my rescuing via telephone. We're fine here in our den, well above any floodplain. The closest body of water is only a few hundred feet from our back door. But it's about 20' below our elevation. Half the city would be underwater before we had any trouble. I do hope my neighbors aren't impacted by more than inconvenience. The city founders let builders put homes in the floodplains here half a century ago with little regard for the future families that would lose everything—those little things that are treasures to parents and children alike. One may argue that they couldn't have predicted year over year massive flooding after the turn of the century. And I would counter that greed is stupid. Just because you have land in the bed of a dry river that's been dry for a hundred years doesn't mean you should build a house there and sell it to your brother. What kind of jerk would do that? I know. The greedy kind. The green lining to all of this is just how verdant everything is here. A place that is usually a palette of yellows, browns and reds is simply LUSH with greens of every hue imaginable. In design color and retouching terms, we would say the saturation is maxed out. There are a few times every year when the weather is simply fantastic and I think,'if it was like this all the time, a LOT more people would live here.' But the reality is, as I told a friend yesterday when I encouraged him to come here if he needs a landing pad: there are worse places to go than Dust Meridian. Not many, but there are some. We are still clearing out our pantry of canned goods from the pandemic. At first we couldn't give this stuff away... but I guess word got around that it's things like canned chicken and tuna, asparagus and other high-quality items. Not just potatoes and cornmeal. Now people are calling US asking if we have any. X-D I still need to figure out how I want to handle my long-term foodstuffs. Like the 25 5 gallon buckets of whole wheat berries and a variety of beans and—ahhhh, danged! I just did a quick google search and read that rice is only stable for two years due to the oils. Well, that will solve the problem of 4 buckets. I bought and stored a LOT of rice. I had to feed 50 lbs of peanuts to the birds when I realized they'd all gone south. Apparently oils DON'T store. You can freeze them, but that's the only way to keep them from going rancid. I’ll finally get my dining room back—and the moment I do, with just a week’s worth of food on hand, that’ll be when the world decides to end. Oh well. I have a backup plan for that too. A little mole-whacking to do between writing here. A friend with terminal cancer called to arrange transport to the city two hours away for chemo tomorrow. I feel so bad for him. He's had cancer for 5 years and done every conceivable thing to fight it. I think of him when I wish my sister-in-law was still here. His quality of life is no quality at all. In his case, at 82, death delayed is fare more bitter than death itself. I think he's just hanging on for this wife. And about seven other phone calls. What, did my name get floated as 'now available for whatever?' Haha. In truth, it is people who are in need. Emotionally, physically and spiritually. A friend encouraged me to remember that loving people is what we do and why we're here. And it does feel good to help someone. There could be worse things than being good at it. Time to put on some real clothes and go do just that. Wish me well! Excelsior, good reader! May the road rise to meet your foot, the rain fall gently upon your fields, and the sun always shine upon your back. WIWL ---And it never failed that during the dry years the people forgot about the rich years, and during the wet years they lost all memory of the dry years.
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