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Published: April 19th 2023
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Oooops .... am back in the future... presently it is April 2023 ...the water has risen...the land has flooded.... panic has set in... that's enough of an intro!
Not since 2002, the Spring when the big move north was made to once again embrace the volcanic scraped-smooth rock of Sudbury, has the melt water risen higher than three feet or to be more precise, close to the lake side fence of my slumbering garden space.
This year the water stands thigh high, the plastic shed has been inundated and as of April 17 the wooden shed ,close to the road and painted orange, is only 21cm/8" safe from having the floor wetted totally. Flood waters have not reached this high since 2002 the year the move was made north to a region that was never to be graced again since the move south in 1970.
But the return came to pass; reluctantly, excitedly, anticipatorily. House building plans in hand, with posessions that would make life livable and Fela the cat in a carrier box, the move was made.
The one room cabin had been built in 1996 and because the property is a flood plane, stands elevated
on four foot sonotube filled cement forms. Four feet was to be a small miscalculation.
Upon arrival access to the cabin was made by wading thru ankle deep water. The friendly neighbour, who saw a city slicker coming, advised tying my small aluminium boat to the bottom of the stairs.
"Sure, gotcha, ha ha he he."
But just in case ...it was done.
And tanksbetoogot!
In the morning there was no dry land to be seen and the only escape was via my aluminium boat. Everything including Fela, the scardy cat, was loaded into the boat.
All was relocated to my mother's house where living was made possible even in the midst of a second husband who had developed an intense dislike of me... cannot imagine why.
The water rose 30cm high inside the cabin. The bottom drawers of the desk had been removed and all perishables were placed out of reach of the flood water.
The same cannot be said about my possessions this year, in the two room lake house. The space has been much improved. Six months a year are spent here. It is filled with the comforts of
living; books, wool, food, carpets, bedding, solar panel hookup, bar fridge, desk with old water stains, credence, dressers, linens, sofa chair,craft projects, and ..............................................
OMG the composting toilet!!! out in the shower space, filled with last summer's doodo (would be easier to clean out in spring, with it all being more dry) OMG ...
obviously not ALL hatches have been battened down!
All that remains at this very moment is visions of floating paper mess,es strewn spices, dead batteries, soaked textiles, rusted machete, water sogged wooden chair feet and a ruined sofa chair .... not to mention the composting toilet floaters.....OMG....am in panic mode...what a dilemma... beyond my control.... once again must quote Marcus Aurelius... he being much in subliminal touch these days ...
“It is my bad luck that this has happened to me.' No, you should rather say: 'It is my good luck that, although this has happened to me, I can bear it without pain, neither crushed by the present nor fearful of the future.' Because such a thing could have happened to any man, but not every man could have borne it without pain. So why see more misfortune in the event
than good fortune in your ability to bear it?” Marcus Aurelius,
Meditations Marcus what about woman? This woman is suffering....well at least until the water goes down and the cleanup of river silt is completed...
then let the good times at the lake house begin again for another wondrous summer of
gardening, reading, knitting, biking, walking (am in training for Shetland) and lazing about in my sister-built cabana.
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