Monday, September 12, 2011

Not Again!

   Water heading toward the house
The fire department to the rescue

Let's see: there were the spring floods wiping out my willows, then Irene just two weeks ago throwing wind and rain around the area, and then Wednesday when Lee's rain blew in, and it rained, and it rained, and it rained.  The county closed the roads early on Wednesday so my next door neighbor and I hunkered down in her house.  We watched the water overflow the banks and begin to creep up on our houses.  Then it got dark, and we had no idea how high the water was.  We knew our cellars were filling up.  By eight Wednesday night, I had over three feet.  She and I listened to the continuous rain and hoped the flood wouldn't reach the houses, and we'd have to be evacuated by boat.  She has two kids, two dogs and one cat.  I have my two cats.  There were no shelters we could reach because of roads closed and bridges out.  I didn't sleep.  

By morning the water had stopped rising.  It had come up to my garden, swung around the pine tree in the back yard and flooded my other neighbor's field on the right of my yard.  Finally, the water began to recede.  It was time to call in the fire department to pump me out.  They did,  Twice.  And although my furnace was under water, once dried out, it ran.  How lucky can I be?

I am grateful for not having experienced the devastation others have.  Entire towns have been wiped out, roads and  bridges down,  houses toppled and swept downstream.  Most of what I experienced was fear not knowing how high that water was Wednesday night.  I admit I was terrified. And then there's my wet, moldy cellar.  I left that for Glenn to empty and clean when he rides in here sometime the end of this week.  Oh, right, you didn't know?  He missed all of this because he was still on his motorcycle journey. 
Much as I like to move beyond these events, this one will have a lasting impact.  Not only did the flood remove the five to ten feet of bank we'd rescued after the spring high waters, yesterday when I went out to determine if it was still too wet to mow, I noticed a series of cracks in the ground developing.  These run parallel to the stream about ten feet from the bank's edge.  They are deepening, a sign the bank will soon break away.
Have a look:
I guess I won't mow.


  1. That sounds terrifying for sure. I'm glad the water receded and that you now have something to hold over your husband's head for a while! It sounds like an ordeal, but you can have the last laugh if it finds its way into your fiction in the future. If you ever find yourself using a storm or flood in a story, you will have some serious authority on the subject.

  2. I'm with Bill. It was terrifying, but what a great experience for a book. I'm glad you and your home are okay, and glad your husband will be home soon. I hope this is the end of it for you and your neighbors. Sometimes it's not so nice being an author. All you think about is what can be used in a book. sigh.

    Marja McGraw

  3. I'm glad it wasn't any worse than it way. The Susquehanna crested at not quite 26 feet. Bad enough but initial estimates showed almost 30 feet. Still a lot of clean up for many folks. Not too bad for us.

  4. Glad you made it through. I hope things turn around quickly for you and the people in your area.

    Stephen L. Brayton

  5. Wow. Here's hoping you recover quickly and you don't have to face any new challenges for quite some time!