I don’t know about you, but we’ve had quite a wet spring. Here are a few ways in which it has inconvenienced me:
1. My dog won’t go to the bathroom outside when it is raining, or when the grass is wet. Inside only!
2. I have to comfort bummed out daughters, who have to have indoor recess, or abbreviated field days.
3. Treadmill running < Outdoor running.
4. My basement flooded.
That last one is the biggie. We came home from our Memorial Day weekend getaway to a drenched basement. Thankfully, our most important things are up high enough that they were fine, but there were some causalities, and moving everything into my garage to dry was quite inconvenient (do you know how heavy a water-logged hockey bag, full of equipment is? Very.) The most heartbreaking part for me were the books we had to throw away.
If you’ve ever lived through an actual flood, you probably want to wring my neck. Or dunk me in the five feet of water you had to deal with. I’m sorry. The real point of my writing about the flood, is that floods have inspired some beautiful artwork. The most famous is probably The Deluge in the Sistine Chapel.
|Michelangelo sure can draw a naked body, amiright?|
I prefer not to think about the horror of the actual flooding. The Deluge is just a little too real for me. How about this less violent, more peaceful painting by Alfred Sisley?
|Boat in the Flood at Port Marly: If only floods left us all so serene.|