down the rushing glen
I nearly got flooded out and washed away this weekend trying to pull out of the Pitaria parking lot onto Tennessee Street. A flash flood took over one whole lane. I sat for a while and watched to make sure a few other small cars could pull through it, and in the end everyone made it safely. The things I go through for a chicken pita.
As a kid, there was nothing I loved more than a stream or a flooded field or a ditch full of running water. Disregarding temperature, bacterial infections, and strong currents, I was happiest up to my knees in run off. Cobb Middle School's athletic field and the creek that runs through Indian Head Acres (aka "Ne Ne Land") were my preferred haunts.
I wasn't completely crazy. I mean, I pretty much stayed away from the orange water, kept an eye out for snakes and crawdads, and didn't spend too much time barefoot in storm water overflow. I've just always had more Rat than Mole in me. Plus, all the best stories take place in or on water. There was Following The River To Its Source or Throwing Off The Scent So I Can Escape or Giant Beast In Shallow Seas.
I need to go swimming.
Posted by That Hank at 9:15 AM