After the Flood

The flash flood we had on Sunday though necessary with giving us water we desperately needed, did a job on the area — Mud, rocks, debris in the streets, on the property, the college campus closed due to a mudslide, Walmart closed due to flooding inside.

Some of our painted rocks washed away, some ended up covered in mud, while others stood their ground.

I loved it because, being upstairs, it gave the patio the power washing I’d been wanting to give it but couldn’t for fear of water dripping down to the patio of little miss Illusive Unfriendly living in the unit beneath me.

It took three days for the two maintenance guys to clear mud and debris from the walkways — management doesn’t want anything around that could cause an accident. Not that they’re concerned about us. What they’re concerned about is a resident tripping, falling, suing.

So the walkways are pristine clear, but the driveways are like a beach — dirt, gritty sand, tiny pebbles.

The beach extends to the streets — dirt, gritty sand, tiny pebbles and boulder like rocks. Driving from here to the Pain Cave is an obstacle course around those boulders, in order not to damage the Jeep’s tires.

It appears the larger obstructions are coming from the street and sidewalk corners literally breaking apart — substandard construction materials perhaps.

As one would do at the beach — play with the sand, someone (probably one of the local crackheads) had fun.

Yes, that is a sandcastle.

A flash flood is no joke, as I learned a few years back when I was returning from Starbucks.

I was at the corner, just yards from the complex when the sky suddenly opened up and dumped its contents seemingly on top of my car. I could not see in front of me, became fearful of what might be coming up behind me that could not see me stopped. As my vision adjusted to the blurs around me, I fortunately was able to safely make the corner turn, get to the complex driveway by which time as quickly as the sky dump began, it just as quickly stopped.

I shudder to think what would have happened had I been on the freeway.

The flash flood we had on Sunday was hours long — I forget how many inches per hour the news said, but I was snug as a bug in a rug inside, watching the patio get the power wash it needed.