Why Mother Nature Will Smite Us

Conversation regarding renters insurance:

   ME: "We should think about getting renters insurance."

   KURT: "Renters insurance is a sucker's bet."

   ME: "This flood proves we should. We could've lost everything!"

   KURT: "Are you kidding? We rolled the dice and WON! We DEFINITELY don't need it now!"

The Suite Life

Being kicked out of one's home for an indefinite period of time, for lack of better words, sucks. For me, it's more about homesickness than anything. At the end of a long day at work, I'm looking forward to coming home and relaxing in my own home. Knowing that I can't, that I'll be living out of a suitcase, almost like a vacation, but nothing like a vacation at the same time, upsets me. I seem to be stressed, although I don't feel stressed. I noticed this morning that I've been clenching my jaw for about 3 days straight. While I feel at ease (at as much ease as one can be while being displaced from their home), my subconscious seems stressed beyond belief. I've woken up the past 3 mornings, jaw clenched tightly, with a terrible headache. I wish my subconscious would catch up with my conscious, unstressed, laid back. And soon. Before my conscious, unstressed, laid back self catches up with my stressed beyond belief subconscious.

At the moment, we are staying with one of Kurt's friends from softball. He and his wife and their 3 kids live about 5 minutes from our apartment, in a rural area populated by more horses than people. They have an in-law's suite they have graciously let us use until we move in with my friends on Monday. (PS - I'm not sure either couple will ever realize just how grateful we are). While I can't wait to get back into my home, it's a pretty nice set-up. On Monday, my office was closed due to flooding and power outages, so I was stuck at The Suite. If you know me at all, you'll know that I HATE relying on other people or mooching off them in any way. I don't like the feeling that I owe someone, or that I'm a burden. (I do, however, know there is a time and place to ask for help. And that time and place is now and here.) I had to get out of The Suite for fear of turning into That Girl That Hangs Around Our House But Doesn't Live Here. So I went for a run.

A few weeks back, I signed up for a half-marathon with a friend from work, which has resulted in all of my money going to running shorts, running pants, running shirts, sports bras, and (next up!) power gel and a hydration belt (for those extra long runs), and Kurt complaining about my new found dedication to running four days a week. I've been pretty good about training. I ran the Broad Street Run in the Spring without power gel, and without proper training. And almost didn't make it. I am extremely competitive, especially with myself, so there was no way in Hell I was going to stop and walk. I ran the whole ten miles, but I swear on all that is Holy, I almost passed out. At mile 2. (No I'm just kidding. Mile 2 was a breeze. Mile 7 was the point where my legs turned to lead, and my face turned that horrible white/red splotchy color. So attractive). Whoever tells you if you can run 10 miles, you can run a half-marathon is lying to you. In fact, I want to pinch those people. Really hard. I JUST made it to the finish line, and at that point, my body was so dehydrated and weak that it kept going only because running instead of walking meant I'd get to the soft pretzels and bananas that much faster. There's no way I could've made it to 13.1.

Considering the amount of storms and weekend vacations we've had, my training hasn't suffered too badly. I've been running 3-4 days a week, with one long run per week. Monday, with the need to get out of the house, I went for an 8 mile run in my new neon orange shirt (I had to run on the street, so you know, Safety First!) I can honestly say, I don't think I've ever enjoyed a run so much. Given the ridiculous distance, that's saying something. I usually run in the park in town. It's a beautiful park, with a mile-long track surrounding a field with some trees, but I've been running there for 5 years. After that long, the scenery becomes a little boring (unless that scenery is a giant buck running through the field at a full sprint, which apparently I missed because I was so into my run). This run was so scenic, I got distracted every few minutes and I had to remind myself to breathe evenly. I even stopped a couple times for a few seconds to take pictures. I couldn't resist! (if you're picturing me running with a huge Canon camera, stop giggling, right now. I run with my iPhone, which has a better camera than my camera).

I saw a HUGE snapping turtle crossing the road and quickly snapped a

picture of him before he snapped my arm off. Farms, corn fields, and horses went for as far as the eye could see. Besides a few cars not giving me a wide berth (thanks for that!), and the rustic smell of horse manure permeating my nostrils as I ran (not fast enough) past farms, it was a perfect run.

I felt strangely at peace. It's one of the reasons I love to run. I can relax, focus on my breathing, and let everything go. But this was even better than usual. I wish every run could be that peaceful and that breathtaking. It was the perfect way to spend that morning, with the bluest sky and the greenest fields pushing away all thoughts of floods and suitcases. And now, I share that perfect run on that perfect day with you in the hopes that you find some peace in these pictures. Enjoy.

Well Played Irene, Well Played

I think Mother Nature heard that I was a little upset that I didn't feel that earthquake on Tuesday and decided to grace us with her presence this weekend. Hurricane Irene was in town. Friday and Saturday consisted of everyone on the East Coast buying gas, bread, and milk. Instead of preparing for the hurricane, my sister and I went shopping at the Cherry Hill Mall. 25% off at Macy's, plus ridiculous sales at every store? Irene wasn't about to stop this shopper. I expected us to lose power for a few hours. The storm was all hype, I assumed. I was wrong. At 5:30 am on Sunday, the police knocked on our door. I believe their actual words were, "The lake is rising. You might want to consider evacuating." You know, nothing major, just consider leaving all your possessions behind and hightailing it out of town. We dressed and packed enough clothes for a couple of days. I even had enough sense to pack some work clothes. And in case you were wondering, yes I put on mascara. Kurt was incredulous. "You're putting on MAKEUP for an evacuation?" Look. The police weren't too urgent with their evacuation warning. I knew we had time, so why not? What if something crazy happened and our picture was in the paper?

Our "evacuation" consisted of walking to the front porch and watching the houses and street flood. It is something I will never forget. To the left of our house are four houses, and then a small bridge (that was just redone and reopened about two weeks ago) over a lake. The lake is in our backyard and tends to rise with large storms. And by rise, I mean the bank of the lake rises about 2 or 3 feet to the bottom of our backyard. At around 8 am, I looked in the backyard. The lake was at our back door. We had about 2 feet of water in the backyard and it was still rising and still raining. Near the bridge, water was rushing from the lake into the street. The bridge, road, and 3 houses closest to the bridge were flooded. As time passed and more rain fell, the lake rose higher and higher until it reached the top step at our back door. I spent the time racing between the front porch and back door, taking pictures of everything and panicking.
Next to the bridge is an old building that used to house a mill. There's a little driveway in front of it that slopes downward. That slope became filled with rushing, churning water as more and more of the lake overflowed into it. More than anything, it resembled rapids. Dangerous, fast rapids filled with planks of wood, lawn chairs, life jackets, pipes, and barriers from the bridge construction. There were two shops at the bottom of the slope. Water rose to the windows.

I resigned myself to the fact that our apartment would be flooded. I assumed it was inevitable. That stupid lake just wouldn't stop rising. We moved everything from the floor or bottom shelves onto tables, onto the washer and dryer and just hoped that would be enough. Our landlords arrived with sandbags to try to keep the basement dry, to no avail. Our sump pump gave out and our basement steadily filled with water. Before it was too late, we shut off the power and gas. By 10 o'clock, we had 5-6 feet of water in the basement.

And then, mercifully, the water began to recede. Neighbors came out to compare damage. The houses near the bridge had about 3 feet of water in the first floors. An older woman and her grandson had to be rescued by EMTs. Most people reported only water in the basement. All reached out to those who had significant damage. If there's one thing I've learned it's that there's nothing like a natural disaster to bring neighbors together. As the water receded, it uncovered significant damage to the roadway on the bridge. A gaping hole stood where the water had previously.

We packed our cars and left for Kurt's dad's, unsure what to do next. About an hour later, our landlords called. The building inspector deemed our house and the four houses closer to the bridge condemned. We could come get some clothes, but after that, we wouldn't be allowed in the house at all. Apparently, the pressure of the water in the basement was the problem. If they pumped the water too quickly, the foundation could collapse.

Countless friends and family members reached out. We were overwhelmed by the outpouring of support and offers of a place to stay. We both know that we were lucky. We're both unhurt, our possessions haven't been damaged. It could have been so much worse. At this point, we're chalking it up to experience, to adventure, to a story to tell. Kurt keeps calling us refugees. He loves that word. For my part, I already miss home. It could be weeks or even a month before we're allowed to live in our apartment again, if ever, so we're preparing for the worst. Kurt's devised a plan to sneak in under cover of night to get his prized possession: his TV.

Ready for the Rapture

1. If you aren't on the East Coast, don't have Facebook, or otherwise live under a rock, you might not know that we had an earthquake today. At around 2pm, everyone in my office building came out of their respective offices and cubicles and started talking about earthquakes and evacuating. Having felt nothing, nada, zip, AT ALL, I thought they were talking about some past experience they had all shared elsewhere. Not so. Virginia experienced a 5.9 earthquake and we felt it all the way up in Jersey. Well, everyone except me, apparently. Is it bad I'm disappointed I didn't feel it? I am fully aware that earthquakes are major deals and usually cause mass destruction and casualties and I am grateful it was small, so small in fact that I didn't feel it when others around me did. I am not making light of earthquakes or victims of earthquakes. I know how scary and dangerous they can be. But it was my first earthquake, it was small, and there was no mass destruction and casualties, so I can be focused on something trivial right?

2. Kurt was working from home today and saw a horse and carriage passing our house on Main Street. I know we live in a small town, but this is highly unusual. And, the horse was RUNNING, like going as fast as the cars. And on the carriage were 3 or 4 Amish men. And did he take a video of this sight so that I could share this strange occurrence with you? Nope! Did he stop them and hire them to drive me around until midnight like Cinderella? No. He didn't. I mean really, would that be too much to ask?

3. Rumors are circulating that Will and Jada are breaking up.

4. There's a hurricane headed our way this weekend.

I'm ready for those Rapture people to claim they made another mistake in their prophecy, and that the Rapture is actually this weekend. Given these four factors, I think it's pretty safe to say the world is officially ending, right? Also, that maybe I'm not Cinderella. It makes sense. I suck at housekeeping.