I awoke this morning to the sound of helicopters evacuating people before danger strikes their homes.  It’s a sound I last awoke to years ago when we lived across the way from the hospital.  It’s strange, because when we go to bed we never know what state the city will be in when we wake up.  We don’t have to stay awake all night to  make sure our sandbag dike doesn’t leak, because we don’t have one.  We don’t need one. The goal is to keep the river out of the FM area.  Some places are safer than others.

We’ve been slowly getting things off the floor in the basement.  I was just moving books to a higher shelf when I thought, “it’s just stuff. Stuff I just want to throw away anyway.”  But then I thought about my couch.  Nathan is more concerned about the washer, dryer and deep freezer. Yeah, they cost more and we “need” those. But my couch.  It is the only non-practical thing in my house (basement)  that I love. Call me impractical if you must, but to me the couch is irreplaceable and it has memories, the appliances…not so much.

When it all comes down to it anything in our basement was a pain in the arse to get down here and would be an even bigger pain in the arse to move upstairs.  If those dikes bust–all of our stuff is toast and we need to be okay with that.

I think I can be so flippant about our “stuff” because we are in no real danger. But the truth is I’ve held back many tears at the thought of so many other people loosing their homes and loosing their stuff.  The homes, stuff and comfort they have worked so hard for. Tears for the shear devastation that could result and that has resulted.  True, in the grand scheme of things we can’t take it with us when we die, but it sure adds to the comfort of living on Earth.