This post isn’t about writing. It isn’t about the process of writing or anything I’m writing or have written. It’s about the dang river that appears in front of my house every time it rains. At least every time we have heavy rains.
If you’ve read my Memory Monday posts, you know I grew up in an area prone to flooding. I get it.
I live in town now. It shouldn’t flood like this in town! Granted most of the infrastructure in my town hasn’t been upgraded or repaired since the 1950s or earlier. Still I don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect the streets not to flood on a regular basis. Yes, the town I live is in near the Ohio River, but the river isn’t the problem. The drains are the problem. They are either stopped up or collapsed or who knows what and they don’t do their job.
I park on the street. Yes, the street that has turned into a river on Monday and Tuesday of this week. Monday, I put on a pair of fireman’s boots to wade through the water to get to my car. I’m sure I looked fetching in those boots. I had to go to my writing group meeting so it was worth the fashion faux pas. Tuesday, I watched the water creep closer and closer to bottom of my car door and cursed myself for forgetting the boots in my car the day before. Armed with nothing more than flip-flops (or thongs as some may say), I delicately maneuvered my way to the passenger side. There was less water on that side. Then I crawled over to the drivers side to move my car to the alley behind my house. Again, another wonderful display for my neighbors. After securing my car, I nearly scalded the flesh off my feet trying to wash the nasty flood water off my feet.
As annoying as all that was for me, there are so many people in the area who have it far worse. They’ve lost their cars, pets, houses, and worse to the flood waters in the area. I’m lucky that I only have to deal with a little street flooding.
Oh, and if the title made you want to watch some early Brad Pitt…A River Runs Through It