Waterlogged

After spending forty-three Christmases on this earth, all of them in the state of Alabama, the weather really shouldn’t surprise me. I am rather observant after all. But yesterday blew me out of the water… thankfully, not literally but it was a close thing.

Flooding.

Noah-like flooding in places that just don’t flood. Ever.

EMA spent the day squawking at us not to step foot, tire or well-intentioned kayak on the roads.

So, needless to say, my five year old nephew and parental accompaniments could not make it over to Christmas. Merriment has been put off until today... if the three inches of water in their front yard parts like the Red Sea and lets them through, that is.

Anyhow, I haven’t gotten so much as a dry crumb of writerly thought in me this morning. So I’m not going to even attempt to be bloggy… Yeah, yeah, don’t ask me what all this was then. I’m so waterlogged I don’t really care.

You know what? Apologies for this post. Forget it ever happened.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe