We interrupt this blog for a weather report. It’s been raining.
And raining. And raining. And raining.
It doesn’t seem earth-shattering, really, except for this: so far we’ve seen about 6 inches of rain fall, with an additional 2 inches of rain coming this afternoon.
I’m a weather-worrier. Really, I’m a general all-around, all-occasion worrier, but severe weather with strong winds, torrential rain, and lightning/thunder kicks up my fretting to a whole new level. It’s like I’m trapped in an endless loop, wearing a path in the carpet while checking on our house’s status, making sure the kids, husband and dog are all fine, and trying to access the Weather Channel’s radar map so I can figure out when it’s all going to be over.
The rest of my family doesn’t worry so much. It’s nature, they say. What are you going to do about it?
I’m going to keep trekking on my worry-path, that’s what. Even if I know rationally that it doesn’t make one teeny tiny iota of a difference.
I never used to be this way. Severe weather never concerned me when I was a kid, and I didn’t worry if the house would hold up or if we’d all be blown away. But when I became a mom, I felt my worry gene kick into overdrive. I know I’m not going to be able to prevent Mother Nature from buffeting us with winds, thunder, hail, lightning, and snow, but I’m still going to give it a shot if it means keeping my kids safe, warm and dry. Even if I’m doing nothing more than imitating Don Quixote, tilting at windmills.
We lost power early this morning — early, as in “before the coffeemaker kicked on.” So we hauled out the camping equipment to find our little percolating coffeepot to make some java on the gas stove. Breakfast — adventure style.
Then they’ve called off work and school in our little corner of the world because, well, I don’t think anyone can get there.
With so much rain, my husband and I decided to go see if the road was passable. As soon as there was a lull, I grabbed my big blue coat, the one that makes me look like Paddington Bear, and we headed out.
This is a photo of our little neighborhood park and its “lake.” It’s really a pond, but they call it a lake. It’s swollen over its normal boundaries, flooding the playground, pier, and even the porta-potty. Eew.
The current of water from the pond is streaming across one road and down through the subdivision. And yes, people are driving through it. Don’t try this at home.
Do you worry about the weather (like I do) or do you just take it as it comes (like the rest of my family)?
Also, this blog has been brought to you by our little iPad. I’ve never used it to blog before, but with the power off and our wi-fi connection tenuous at best, I figured I’d give it a shot. I’m curious how it will work out. Anything look weird to you about this post?