Not Raining
Tiff rang a bit ago, which is the first I've spoken with her since her return from the Dominican Republic. She told me that (at that point) the children had not been sent home. I was appalled (as was she) and asked where the water was - touching the kindergarten playground and over the playing field and part of the parking lot, and not still but very fast moving, she said (don't ask me what the tide was doing as I don't know). She's been beating the principal on the head, so I hope by now they have all gone home. There is an entire mountain of snow and ice and a dam upstream, and (as she pointed out) entire enormous fir trees and so on in the raging river. If they snag and block the river to the north the flooding will intensify; if they snag and block the river upstream there will be a sudden surge when the pressure builds and the clog is blown out. If there's a crisis (say the mountain erupts* or the dam breaks) a siren goes off (in the area) and then one has 20 minutes approximately until whatever it is (a 100 foot tall x 10 miles long wall of mud, fir trees, and dead things traveling at 60 miles an hour, perhaps?) wipes out the valley.

She said driving to work on the empty Interstate 5 was nice. The road is closed south of Olympia, and has been closed on and off to the north, so there was no traffic. I always find it just a wee bit thrilling when major roads are closed - it was a complete surprise to me the first time I experienced it as I'd never dreamt such a thing was likely.

"Call me if you need anything." "Oh, yes, and you'll fly your helicopter over."

Right now Summit Lake is, oh, I suppose about a foot higher than usual. From my chair all I see is water - and if I stand up still all I see is water. I have to be in front of a window to see the water's edge nearest to me.

Mr. Looper rang me from the I-5 last night where he was in a long line of slow-moving cars and calling out of boredom (that is how I pictured it, anyway). We used to hang out a lot, however I don't hang out with anyone atomic anymore.

*Mount Rainier is dormant, but things have a habit of changing.