Indianapolis or Bust!

Well, obviously its a bust ’cause there’s no way i’m getting anywhere near Indiana. In case you’ve been living in a cave or just don’t care, it’s Superbowl Weekend and I have a HUGE party planned … that is if everyone shows up!

Of course that also hinges on whether or not we don’t end up in Oz or some comparable foreign land. It’s been raining this week. A lot.

And wind.

And tornados.

And lightning.

In fact, mom called me this morning at 9 a.m. To tell me about it.

The conversation went something like this:

Me (groggily as she woke me up): Hello?

Her (shocked): don’t tell me you slept through THAT!

Me: What?

Her: THE RAIN! It folded our antennas in half!

Me (feigning coherence): Really?

Her: Yes … Oh wait. Lemme call you back. That’s Merle Norman calling. K? Bye!!!!

So now I’m up. I grab my pith helmet and hit the jungle that is “the back 40” of my property and this is what to my wondering eyes did appear:

Click Photos to Embiggen

The creek running through my back yard is normally just a trickle. The creek bed is at least 12 feet below where it is running now. Probably closer to 16-18 feet.

Too late to worry much now. The party is planned and we will bravely soldier on making our preparations for the guests we’ve invited while at the same time, keeping an eye on the looming disaster in the back yard.

If we’re not here when you all arrive, we’ve probably been swept away to some strange and far-away land. Don’t worry about us though. I hear Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect are good traveling companions and they really like football. (I really wish they’d stop calling the stadium “the pitch” though. What’s THAT all about?).

Oh, and if we do happen to get to the restaurant at the end of the universe, I’ll have a slice of pie for ya and send you a postcard. Until then, goodbye and thanks for all the fishes!

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