Not long ago on FB i posted about how settled and good i was about leaving for Greeley. And i am.  The few items i need to purchase i can get today; my mental lists and schedules have been downloaded to Any.Do.  Normally preparing for a trip includes doing laundry at 4am and packing at 5am for an 8am flight.  I don’t leave until FRIDAY and the only thing left is laundry and floor washing.  The getting there is solid.

What is concerning me is what happens when i get there.  That is, when i arrive in Denver and start the hike north to Greeley Colorado.

It has been confirmed the fairgrounds are dry and safe and that’s awesome.  It *is* the saving grace.

The problem is in my head, because there are two facts about me that are relevant to this conversation: I make everything harder than it is & I have a *really* hard time letting go of things.  Also, i can’t not fix things.

What is hard for me is that i’ve done this, and I am so conflicted now about going to Colorado.  The ticket it purchased and plans made, so i’m in. But every time i see photos like that there is a part of me that wants to run out and start putting things up on the porch again.  The parasympathetic response that gets you through stressful things isn’t kicking in because it’s not mine. What is left if is the baggage; my baggage.  The baggage that creeps up during heavy rain storms when Simon won’t go outside, when i can’t help but look out the windows and ‘check’. The baggage that forces me to remind myself  every time i hear the rain on the roof that i bought property on a high hill with no nearby streams.

Don’t get it wrong, i’m not afraid of water. The dogs swim just fine, and i’m happiest in the water.  When you stand on your deck and watch a tree float by, there is a deep realization you are indeed quite screwed. That county rescue helo over the house will not take the dogs.  Seven years later the heavy rain, and the knowledge of what rain can does, totally weirds me out.

Mostly because it does this:

My Poor Car

And this:


The banging sound from the stuff in the garage floating about and hitting the walls and support beams was the quietest, most horrible thud, thud, thud.  It is so clear in my mind.

Load me up with spider and snakes.  I’ll launch myself off a cliff and with a little prep, jump out of a perfectly good airplane.  Everyone has their thing; mine is flooding.

On the other hand, i can’t shake the desire to go and help.  “I’ve done it, and i have no super power. You can do it, too.

I love this.  For background, Josh (the younger male character) was shot in an assassination attempt a few months prior.  Sound is a powerful thing.

I did blog on the floods… you can find them by searching Flood.

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