It’s been nearly two years since I sat down to actually write something on this blog. Yet, every single day I think to myself “I need to write”. But what is there to write about? When your day consists largely of sitting in front of a computer screen, working from home, with a dog laying beside you snoring and farting simultaneously, there’s not a lot to keep yourself occupied, much less anyone else.
Oh, I guess I could chronicle my now daily trips outside to ensure I still have a driveway to get on and off my property. See, about a month ago, Hurricane Michael swept through SW VA and a flash flood washed my driveway away. Like, here one second, gone the next. While I stood in the pouring rain (6″ in one hour) and watched a swirling vortex of muddy, brown water tear the driveway apart before my eyes. Looking back, I can now view the newly created terrain of the two creeks which border my property – and realize it is literally watching Mother Nature work her (sometimes) magic, how the runoffs are re-shaping the landscape (perhaps one day millenia from now, there will be another Grand Canyon made out of my front yard?). But I can assure you, at the time, I was sobbing, on the ground, cursing my luck. We were trapped on the property for five days, because there is no other way to get a vehicle (outside of possibly a Humvee?) on or off. And now, every single raindrop that falls brings me to the edge of panic. And sure enough, after almost two entire days of non-stop rain last week, the creek again rose about 3′ and I ran faster than I ever have (well, almost as fast as the time I saw a bear in a bush on a nightly walk through my neighborhood, but that’s another story) to take my car to the other side of the creek. Hah Mother Nature! This time you won’t catch me unaware, I’m moving the car BEFORE you can trap me again. But, luckily, the new rip rap lining the creek appeared to do it’s job and the water receded by the next morning. Although I did have to don my wetsuit and stand in the freezing cold water to shore up the holes created with large rocks. If you would have told me that my wetsuit, purchased to dive in the sub tropical waters of South Florida would have come in handy standing in a creekbed in SW VA, I would have thought you were nuts. Nevertheless, it did. 🙂
You know, it just goes to prove the great irony of life. I lived in Florida for 20 some years. I lived in Orlando during the summer of…was it 2004?…when 4 hurricanes swept through in one summer – Charley, Francis, Ivan and Jeanne. I lived there for 20 years and never had one pennies worth of damage or trouble (outside of lost power for a day or two and a broken water line which was fixed within hours). And yet, I move to SW VA and get the stuffing knocked out of me and thousands of dollars worth of damage (no insurance, because it was flood related and who has flood insurance living on the side of a mountain??). Unreal. And not only do I have to worry about flash flooding, which, I honestly never understood what that was – a flash flood? Inconceivable to think of a wall of water created in minutes and rushing at you like a super train speeding through the countryside outside Tokyo. But I now have an up close and personal understanding of flash floods. And yes, the water comes at you just like that super train. Both awesome and terrifying.
When we moved in, the creek running across the front of our property had little more than a trickle of water. It was more like a drainage ditch than anything else. I often would look at the pathetic little stream and think that it wouldn’t be long until the entire thing dried up. It now is a rushing creek, that holds 10″ or more on rainy days of water. And various waterfalls and new pathways have been created. The culvert that was there is now too small to contain the flow. I guess we’ll just have to wait for the next flash flood to wash everything away again before we can get it all replaced.
Besides, I have more pressing things to plan right now anyway. Like replacing the ugliest bathroom ever created. And I don’t just mean mildly unattractive. I mean, a hole in the ground in a cave in Afghanistan with a contingent of goats roaming freely might compete with this bathroom and just slightly, slightly mind you, by the barest edge, win a contest for World’s Ugliest Facility, but it would be close. I mean, seriously, our house is a beautiful log cabin, custom built on a gorgeous piece of property surrounded by mountains and woods and hundreds of undeveloped acres. But it is literally where all things ugly and cliche from the late 80’s and early 90’s came to die.
Who, I ask you, WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND, takes a large, beautiful space that makes up the kitchen/dining/breakfast nook area that takes up the entire half of your top floor, and covers it in…wait for it…LINOLEUM? Linoleum? I mean, sweet cherubim and seraphim, do they even MAKE linoleum anymore? I mean it’s just hideous beyond all belief. And it’s white. White, disgusting, linoleum. In a country kitchen with nicely, unique wood cabinets and log walls? It’s like putting a tutu on a hippo. It’s. Just. Wrong. Don’t get me wrong. I sit and watch House Hunters and want to vomit every single time I hear some wanna be yuppie say “granite countertops”. I have now come to hate, loathe, despise and abominate granite countertops. Dear sweet Lord people, can anyone be original? I actually like things which are vintage, worn and slightly shabby, things that set people apart and make your surroundings more homey. A setting which takes you back in time and which showcases the good ol’ days when things were handcrafted and built to last. But, seriously, linoleum doesn’t fit into this category. It’s not vintage. It’s not kitsch. It’s crap.
Well I’ll be dogged. I just realized that I’ve typed an entire post. About something. So I guess it is true that writers…write. I guess I just need to actually sit down in a chair and sooner or later, something is going to come out. Til next time…
Oh to hell with it all 