Our street this morning looked something like New Orleans circa last September. The road was completely flooded – luckily our house is at the top of a hill, so we’re safe, but the pastures down the street are not so fortunate. I hear that all of the horses and other livestock got moved to higher ground before things got really bad, and I hope that’s true. I usually pass a herd or two of cows on that street, so I’m praying that the little baby calves and their mamas are all ok.
I really need to go take pictures at the bottom of the hill for photographic evidence. This is apparently the worst flood we’ve had in the past decade. I’m not sure how tall the average speed limit sign is (maybe six feet or more?), but the water had risen to just a couple of inches below the sign. Crazy.
So as a result of all this flooding, my usual commute to work required a nice little ten-mile detour, which is always fun. And apparently even my alternate route might possibly flood later this afternoon if the rain doesn’t let up, so I have the web page that lists all county road closures open, and I keep hitting refresh. I have no idea how I’m going to get home if that happens.
The up side is that the detour required me to drive past the place where I needed to go vote today, so I went ahead and did that before work. Our polling place is at a church that happens to also have a pre-school. I got there between 8:30 and 9:00, and apparently pre-school starts at 9, so there were a lot of parents there voting before dropping their kids off at school. All of the other times that I’ve voted in the past, the rooms have been very quiet and somber, but today there were a bunch of two to four year-olds running around shrieking their heads off. It was kind of funny. One little boy, who I’m guessing was about 3 years old, plowed headfirst into the back of my right knee, and I almost wiped out on the floor of my little voting booth. His mother apologized, I just laughed and said it was fine. Which it was. I caught my balance before I fell, so no big deal. He just surprised me more than anything. You don’t really expect to get tackled by a small child while electing your local government officials.
Not much else going on. The Indigo Girls concert was fun, although as I expected, they only played about four songs that I knew, everything else was from the last two albums. It was still a good show, I just got home really late and felt like hell on Monday morning.
One moment of the concert that thorougly pissed me off: there was this old lady usher who checked everyone’s tickets before letting them in. She kind of eyed me up and down, then said, “Now don’t you go havin’ that baby tonight.” I told her that I certainly hoped not, since I still had a couple more months to go. Still, I sort of felt like my god, am I that huge that people expect my water to break at any given moment? What the hell?
Of course, when I told Dave this, he said, “Well, it’s good that she could tell that you were pregnant and didn’t think that you were just fat.” Um, yeah. Thanks, sweetie. I feel all better now.