September 2016

Saturday, May 6, 2017

Shirley Evans Said It Best

from Lexi Eddings...

A Coldwater Warm Hearts Wedding starts with a quote from Shirley Evans, who's just learned she has breast cancer:

Trouble makes us stronger, they say. It brings out the best in us and shows what we're really made of. But don't you just hate it when blessings come in disguise?


A disguised blessing came to the Ozarks last week. Our little town was drenched with 13 1/2 inches of rain in less than 24 hours. Previous flood records were blown away. (See my previous post for pics taken from our house that'll make your hair stand on end!) People who'd been assured their properties were not in a flood plain found themselves with five feet of water in the second story of their homes. The highways leading into and out of town were shut down. Gas stations ran out of fuel. Grocery store shelves started looking a little thin. Now, even a week out from the worst of it, I'm having trouble refilling a prescription.

But there is a silver lining behind this storm. Despite the damage done, no one died in our part of the Ozarks. And even during the worst of the storm, our community came together. First responders were out risking their lives to do water rescues. Three of our friends spent a terrifying night on the roof of their home near the river before they were saved by emergency crews in a boat. Once the rain stopped, county linemen were in our neighborhood, retrieving an electrical box that had been torn from its foundation by the rushing water. Power was restored promptly. Neighbor began helping neighbor with clean up. Our church has opened its doors as an emergency shelter for those whose homes have become uninhabitable or lost entirely. Work crews are being organized and supplies distributed to those who are in need.

We lived on the edge of Boston during the nightmare of the 2013 Marathon bombing. The city pulled together. We sheltered in place while our law enforcement did their jobs and brought the perpetrators to justice. Lives were lost or changed forever. A beautiful young couple in our neighborhood both lost limbs, but the community rallied around them. We were Boston Strong.

Now we're feeling Ozark Strong. Our little town has had, to borrow from Tolkien, a chance to show its quality. And it's pretty darn good.

Have you ever lived through a "blessing in disguise" that made you stronger? Wiser? More tenderhearted?

 

Sunday, April 30, 2017

How High's the Water, Mama?

We had several days of rain this week. Water was already running rather charmingly down the drainage ditch at the north edge of our side yard. It meandered through the green common area in the middle of our big oval neighborhood pretty as a postcard. It was almost like having water front property.

I'm over it.

Last night just before sundown, the heavens opened and we were hit with blinding rain. First water puddled in the usual low spots and we had an inch deep pond in the side yard nearest the ditch. 

No worries. It was a long way from the house.

Then fifteen minutes later, I started to take the dogs out the back door.

   
Bad idea. Based on where the water has reached on our steps, it's about 2 feet deep.


I usually love the view of the pasture behind our house. Not so much now. Our wrought iron fire pit floated away.


The view out the front doesn't inspire confidence. The water is running very swiftly. The concrete abutment you see peeping over the flood designates where the usually empty drainage ditch comes out after it goes under the road. Notice how high the water is on the mailbox pole.



No joy for Charlie and Mack out the front door either. Keep your eye on the storage shed across the street. It's already broken through some fences and is in the wrong yard. 


Normally, you'd see our driveway and the walk leading up to our front door out this window.



Wait a minute! Where's that shed off to?



Wherever it is, I hope the shed didn't hit someone's house.


Remember how high the water was on the mailbox a few minutes ago?


This is the view out our side yard. The water lapped up past the two bottom slats of siding on our garage. 

Night fell. Then to make it all extra fun, we lost power.

I'm not a dyed-in-the-wool prepper, but I have taken some precautions. We know where our flashlights are and have extra batteries. We have about 50 gallons of bottled water on hand. I keep a well-stocked pantry. We have go-bags packed in case someone floats by in a canoe and wants to pick us up.  

Best of all, we bought flood insurance on March 15th.

Believe it or not, when we bought this house in 2003, we were assured by the city that it was NOT in a flood plain. So we weren't required to have flood insurance by our lender. We've had a few scary moments over the years, so we have tried to buy insurance on our own, but were told we couldn't because we weren't in an official flood plain. Still, each time an impromptu pond appeared on our property, my DH would go down to city hall with pictures and ask, "Are you sure?"

Fortunately, early this year, the county flood plain maps were redrawn and our property was included, along with several other homes in our neighborhood. We bought insurance ASAP, because it has to be in effect for at least a month before we'd be covered. So if we have damage, we'll be ok.


This morning, the water had receded, but since this pic was taken, it started raining again. The street in front of our house is flooded once more, but we're still safe. The power came back on, but we have no phone service. This is frustrating because I can't call my parents to see if they're ok. Fortunately, their house is much higher than ours, but I'd still like to know for sure.

I've been able to text with #1 Daughter, who lives in Columbia and has been frantic about us all, bless her heart. #2 Daughter has been trying to call her boss to let her know she can't make it out of the neighborhood for her shift this afternoon. Church has been cancelled. I've put a roast on to cook in case we lose power again. 

For now, we'll do like we did during the Boston Marathon Bombing. We'll shelter in place.