Wednesday night a storm hit that was truly scary, but equally awesome. It started with high winds that had branches snapping and trees falling all over town. Then the rains started, and the flooding and landslides. The boys had a hard time settling, between the constant roar of the wind and the driving rain that just hammered against the windows. Twice, in the middle of the night, we were jolted awake by flying limbs smacking against the house.
The rain never once let up, or slowed down, for two relentless days. By Friday, things were so wild, I almost cancelled an eye appointment in the afternoon--an appointment made four months ago--because I just didn't want to go out in the storm.
Luckily, Tom was able to finish the floor on schedule, even with the fiasco on Wednesday. I love, love, love the new tile. Too bad about the off-color photo, because in person? It's so wonderful, I can't stop myself from walking into the kitchen and just smiling at the floor like a dork.
Tom adjusting the tiles, getting everything exact before he starts to grout.
And seriously, how perfect are his lines? I wish I could get a good shot because these tiles are really cool, but with the weather (still raging today) the ambient light is wrong. Even with all the kitchen lights on, it's still too dark and the color's off. In reality, it's like a Summer's day in Sorrento, ancient Italian stone warming in the sun...
So, early Friday afternoon, Tom finishes the floor and I leave for what I think is going to be just a routine eye appointment. Silly me.
There's something wrong with my vision, beside the regular stuff requiring glasses. Turns out my eyelids are interfering with my sight and surgery is required to fix things. I'm told it's a simple procedure, although I'll have to be knocked out while my lids are being sliced and diced.
Now, those of you who know me, or have read my blog, understand that I have a true and absolute phobia for needles, doctors and/or anything that has to do with surgery. Even the word makes my stomach flip. I've been known to faint just getting a flu shot, so being unhappy doesn't come close to how I feel at this turn of events. Just wanted a pair of glasses, peeps, not anything remotely involving a **gasp** medical procedure.
I did find the coolest glasses though, so the appointment wasn't a total bust. Now I just have to get past March 10th and all is good. Uh huh. Bet that's what Joan Rivers thought too.
I got dosed with several drops in my eyes that blurred my vision so bad, it's a miracle I made it home. In a way, it was a good thing the storm was so violent and crazy because everyone had to drive about two miles per hour due to several accidents and gushing drains. And as I began to drive back up the mountain, I had to 4-wheel it around a mud slide that wasn't there on my way down.
Home at last, safe and sound, I held the dogs off from a walk in the hopes the monsoon would let up a little, and a few hours later it's looking good, so we start to hike to the mail box. Ozzy is breathing funny and lagging behind so I slow down for him, but then he just stops in the middle of the road. I'm looking at him through a fuzzy blur--those damn eye drops didn't wear off until way late in the evening--when without warning, he just keels over. Literally. Standing one second, out cold the next.
Of course I freak out, thinking he's just died from a heart attack. When I pick him up, he's as limp as a noodle and just flops over my arm. I start talking to him, lightly pound on his chest, give him a jiggle or two, panic rising when suddenly he sort of jerks, takes a breath and...he's back. I carried him home, gave him a dog biscuit and a cuddle, and off he goes to get a toy out of his toybox as if nothing weird has just happened.
He was definitely breathing too hard and trying to run up a steep part of the road, so I think he must have hyperventilated, which made him pass out. I had a large glass of wine once I knew he was all right. Okay, two. Near death does that to me.
This morning, out on the back deck untangling my prayer flags after another night of high winds, I took a minute to look out over the valley. The river was a wide, overflowing band of water, flooding fields and orchards, and the quarry looks like a lake. And it's still raining.
(Imagine these two photos side by side...)
Flooded fields and orchards, quarry at right edge of photo...
River taking a sharp bend, cresting its banks and flooding more fields...
If these past three days of bad weather had been snow, southern Oregon would be looking just like New England did last week. I'm not complaining. I read the other day the storms would have to continue like this for six straight months before we'd officially be out of drought mode. That's pretty startling. The entire area would be submerged, I could have beach front property, tie a boat off the back deck, the dogs could learn to swim...
What a week. But it's time for me to go now, dear readers. I need to stand in the kitchen and smile at my new floor...