Chez StanMinn Communiqués: Flood

January 2012

Cue the torrential downpour
Background inches of compacted snow up
And, ACTION!

February 2014

It happened a couple of years ago, after we'd been in the house for about the same.
A tremendous snowstorm dumped a great deal of the stuff Earthward where it amassed and stayed around for a number of days.
Recall that here in the PNW, it doesn't usually get cold enough for snow and on the rare occasion it does, the ground's too warm to sustain its viability for very long.
That there was so much and that it lasted awhile was rather remarkable, and unusual.
And again, oh so pretty (see 'shithole'.)
But then the rains came.
Which *is* normal.
Only this time, they melted it all away in no time flat, giving it few options where to run off.
The ground was already saturated, sewer grates clogged with storm debris and the normal avenues of drainage already filled to capacity.

Well timed mass mailing

You've seen chilling photos of severe flooding and I don't want to make light of our situation, for there's no comparison whatsoever.
However, being new to the area and landscape, we weren't sure what to expect.
So it's understandable that a little panic ensued.
Upon signing for the house, we both joked and were annoyed that a provision to the VA loan mandated flood insurance.
AND for the damn shed, even!
Stupid.
But when the water started rising, it wasn't so funny anymore.
We're located at the base of the coastal mountain range by the headwaters of a decent sized river running through our prized OCF.
It's just a wee creek in our backyard (and is well represented here in the blog with a fair amount of photos) before it joins up with others and makes its way into the Willamette.
Of course this is where all that liquid from higher elevations was gravitating and I watched with horror at how quickly it was moving up our embankment.
Listening to the local public radio channel all day does nothing to help one's piece of mind.
And I'm not just talking about NPR.
Reports of danger and death and destruction dare I say, flooded, the airwaves.

Chutney claims her place first in the evacuation queue

Time to pull out the evacuation kits.
I've long made arrangements for my animals, probably at the expense of my own safety, due mostly to the tragedies of Hurricane Katrina.
As an early supporter of Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, I've received more news and advice on such matters I know what to do with; they have put the fear of foresight in me.
Despite having detailed emergency plans in Seattle, CAM and I dropped the ball once we moved.
(Mainly domestic terror topped that list, which I didn't think was such a concern out here in The Boonies.)
Kitty carriers lined the wall with already packed bags of food, water, rx and toys, yet what was to happen after that, we'd never considered.
Later his advice was simply, "Get to higher ground." Mmm.
It was actually rather wise and prescient as it turned out, because our main road to town had flooded over in spots.
He'd barely made it home that way, though there are spider webs of tricky forest roads at greater elevations he could have navigated.
Neighbors south of us sustained much damage, due to their unfortunate proximity to where two swollen creeks converged.
There were also threats from toppling trees, and I mean *trees*, whose roots could no longer support them in the saturated ground.
We stayed put and were pretty lucky not to have suffered much.
All in all, though, it was still a scary welcome to the neighborhood.

Which is why as I look out the back window and see the frothing, brown water churning its way ominously downstream, I'm relieved it's not as perilous as before.
I can breathe a sigh of relief knowing this time around the danger recedes.

It's been worse.