(no subject)
Oh my god, the rain!
I thought it was bad when from the window at work, I could see that the bridge in Cummings park was actually a little underwater. Then, when I looked later, the bridge was completely underwater. And so was the pipe across the stream as well. And the ground on either side of the bridge.
That was about when I decided not to walk home.
Sally drove me home (she’s the intern pharmacist, and very nice, wyvernmalfoy, you’ve met her. Then I walked up our drive, because you have to be insane or very skilled at backing to go up there, and Mum was standing on the roof, sweeping out the gutters. In the heavy rain. The conversation went something like this:
Me: Hello, Mum.
Mum: Hello, Sophie.
Me: Um, Mum, why are you on the roof?
Mum: I’m sweeping out the gutters.
Me: Ah…*pause*…Why are you doing that?
Mum: Because the house is flooded.
Me: Oh. Where?
Mum: Why don’t you go inside and see?
Me: Can you just tell me where?
Mum: Why don’t you go inside and see?
So, for some inexplicable reason, I went inside to see.
I saw the buckets, I saw the towels, and I stepped in our new, very trendy, indoor pond.
And then, because I have no taste in decorating fashion, I got some towels, which are now absolutely sopping, and started cleaning up.
State of the floor at 7:30 pm, Friday the 10th of February: Damp, along with the whole family.
State of the weather: still raining heavily, with no sign of letting up. *le sigh*
State of the phone line: This is the saddest of all. It seems crossed with some a sort of broadcasting network. They play a lot of annoying music, which plays every time I try to log on. Again, *le sigh*. This is the reason the time of posting this may differ so much from the time listed above.
And it does. But the phone is working! Joy!
I thought it was bad when from the window at work, I could see that the bridge in Cummings park was actually a little underwater. Then, when I looked later, the bridge was completely underwater. And so was the pipe across the stream as well. And the ground on either side of the bridge.
That was about when I decided not to walk home.
Sally drove me home (she’s the intern pharmacist, and very nice, wyvernmalfoy, you’ve met her. Then I walked up our drive, because you have to be insane or very skilled at backing to go up there, and Mum was standing on the roof, sweeping out the gutters. In the heavy rain. The conversation went something like this:
Me: Hello, Mum.
Mum: Hello, Sophie.
Me: Um, Mum, why are you on the roof?
Mum: I’m sweeping out the gutters.
Me: Ah…*pause*…Why are you doing that?
Mum: Because the house is flooded.
Me: Oh. Where?
Mum: Why don’t you go inside and see?
Me: Can you just tell me where?
Mum: Why don’t you go inside and see?
So, for some inexplicable reason, I went inside to see.
I saw the buckets, I saw the towels, and I stepped in our new, very trendy, indoor pond.
And then, because I have no taste in decorating fashion, I got some towels, which are now absolutely sopping, and started cleaning up.
State of the floor at 7:30 pm, Friday the 10th of February: Damp, along with the whole family.
State of the weather: still raining heavily, with no sign of letting up. *le sigh*
State of the phone line: This is the saddest of all. It seems crossed with some a sort of broadcasting network. They play a lot of annoying music, which plays every time I try to log on. Again, *le sigh*. This is the reason the time of posting this may differ so much from the time listed above.
And it does. But the phone is working! Joy!