Erm, maybe not so much with the "being back" and the words on "the Moon's Day" and all that.
Because the Nature, she has risen up and kicked our asses.
Shortly after our Exodus from New York two years ago - - led by a smoky column of realtors by day and a flaming bed and breakfast by night - - I stood out on our deck one post - unpacking evening and thought, Ah! I can hear the creek, murmuring in the distance. The fact that there was a sodium arc - illuminated carwash between the creek and my ears mattered not a bit. It was a moment of non - urban delight.
On Friday night, the creek was in our basement.
Not all the way. Just a bit. But enough so that the washer and dryer are under a tarp on the front sidewalk, and our brave little utility pump is still spouting creekwater out into the street in front of the house. Two houses down from us, the fire department used its mighty pumps to empty basements four feet deep with creekness, and the waters actually closed off the end of the street entirely, surrounding the last house on the block on all sides.
But: there was neighbor bonding, the late - night moving of appliances, motorcycles, and other durable goods through the mud to slightly higher ground, followed by light beers and tales of the Great Flood Of '84, which was apparently much worse, resulting in the designation of this section of the surveyor's map as part of a 100 - year flood plain and our current required payment of $800 a year to protect the mortgage bank's investment in our property. That still irks me - - it's their investment; let them protect it if they want. Bastards.
All in all, not as bad as it could have been. Nothing but mushy cardboard boxes to clean up in the basement, all major appliances remain functional, the cats didn't drown, and now we feel less like interlopers from The City and more like residents.
So, I've been a bit busy, what with the being rained on and the hauling of air conditioners up to the dining room and the piloting of small remote - control hovercrafts in my flooded basement.
OK, that last one wasn't much of a chore. However, it remains the sort of activity you might as well engage in if you have the opportunity, as opposed to one that you'd choose to do just for kicks.
And now it's late and my brain is sopped along with everything else.
To bed! And my increasingly weird dreamscape.
