Hurricane Isaac was going to be an entertaining one for us as it passed.  We preferred it pass to our east.  We preferred that it pass!

Instead, it sat there to the west and rained on us. And worse, it was constant rain to our north; from whence our swamp water comes.

These images are in chronological sequence with (for me) few captions.

Our house from the north and the way it geneally looks.

This is my landscaper and friendly lady.  This is taken from the open patio door, shop steps are to the left.

Well, Hey! There I am standing on the shop steps.

To the right is the end of the shop, and there is the Probe Port, and the Probe has just come down the Probe Path to turn in.

And there is, Bettie and Bonnie on a cool day with us enjoying our do-nothing life.   (Bonnie looks cold.  She is giving me the evil-eye to make me come sit back down so she can sit on me.)

These images are to show you a little geography for the images to come.

Isaac is coming so we go into our drill.  Commerical covers over the patio door, and my super-duper locked in place play in the lower windows. Tuesday.

The oriel gets the same.  Clear sections are lexan.

All windows are covered.

There are two high windows with roll down (from inside) shutters.  This opening goes under the floor of our big room.  It will play into this story anon.

The only time the garage door comes down is for hurricanes so that is the time to wash it.   I have pictures of Bettie washing the door during the eye lull of Gustav.  Wednesday.

Naturally, the winds came up and we sat on the tailgate of Bettie's truck and watched the trees whip around in the wind.  Then power went off.  So we came inside, lit the lanters, etc., and sat at the bar for some Amareta.

And Port.  Why not?  We had some peanuts, too.  Then Bettie started reading to me and Bonnie from the Sept. Texas Monthly.

Power came back on and then back off and Bettie and Bonnie read by daylight after the winds died down some, but before the water came up.

  And I did my crossword puzzles.   Two Bonnies?  No, Bettie got up to take the picture so Bonnie was lapless until she saw that mine was unoccupied.  This might seem peaceful and the wind was fun but now it is waiting-for-the-high-water time.

The next morning, Thursday, our entertaining level of the swamp was in the backyard, but we had an idea of what was in store.  The wind was still whipping around but I took down some of the panels.

Still at the entertaining level but this might be a good image to remember.  That opening under the floor  is just around that corner.

Same level but showing back of big room.  I have rolled up the hurricane shutters.   We call this "the entertaining level" because this happens after any really hard rain of several days.  The kids used to jump out of our  trees into the water because there was just mown grass on the bottom.  We had a popular backyard when we had kids living at our expense.

Water continues coming up an inch an hour and this is now the less entertaining level.   The flamingos resting on the shop porch were saved by my gardener who stripped to panties and tee shirt to go save them.  When water gets within 10' of the patio, the water starts coming up at 2"/hour.

Friday

From the shop porch.  Water is at the first step of three at the patio.  Water had been to the second step twice before.

The Probe Port.  But Probe had been withdrawn to the house front and we took Bob Buick out of the flood area before we got closed off.  It is wise to have one car in and one out when the floods block us in.  (And now at 5:30, Sept. 1st, we might be able to get out and retrieve Bob.)

This ain't funny no more.  It is time to go to work in the house.  We are supposed to be smart people and that means we can't just sit.  At this point, there is no way out and the National Guard has made their last trip in the world's biggest truck driven by the world's smallest NG lady.  (But I sure wouldn't want to cross her!)  There are now eight houses on our street with water to their window sills.) This is the worrisome stage.  Before I raised the shop, I had water in it twice at the level of the black line on the door.

Here is the drill.  One inch of water in your house for four hours and all doors are ruined.  They are not cheap to buy and replace.  So doors come down to become tables to put stuff on.  Everything in the house that we want to save that is below 12" is put up higher.  (The 1915 piano will be history.)  We have power but water is over the outside a/c unit so it had to have its circuit breaker switched off.

The back bedroom which is built in half the garage.  This will be the first room to get wet because it is at the garage level.

Take a deep breath fellows!  The chiminia is leaving.

The light spot under water behind the red-orange fire box is the chiminea that was standing beside the dwarf beside firebox.

The green pad is on the top of three steps from patio into the house.  Water is over the second and that is as high as it has been before.  Water was coming up at 1" an hour at this time.

Higher than it has ever been.  Neighbor to the right has water in his house.  First time since house was built in 1963.  In lower left is what I was dreading.  This is the water looping around from the back to the drive to go in the garage and into the garage-level back bedroom.

Lowest route to front of house and into garage and back bedroom.

When this house got water in it, it left only ours on the swamp side of the street still dry.   The water had slowed to about 1/2" an hour.  It was to crest at 9 p.m. somewhere around us.  This was taken at 5 p.m. and we had 6" to go to get water in the house.  This was the first time that I thought we might make it.  But it was still Miller Time; not Bacardi Time.

One end of our street.  Houses here had water well over their window sills, some with at least 4' in their houses.

This is the other end of our street around the corner.  Both entrances at the highway into our neighborhood had been blocked for hours when this was recorded.

This is on the non-swamp side of our road.  These houses have been flooded three times.

In the end, about 7 p.m., I knew that we had dodged the watery bullet.  At 9:00 a.m. I could tell it was going down and it was no longer Miller Time; it was Bacardi Time.  I entertained myself until near 2 a.m. and went to sleep in my chair.

And now at 7:30 p.m. Sept. 1, this is the way things are.  The a/c is running full bore in the shop to help dry it out.  We have just gotten out of the neighborhood through the only way out and retrieved Bob Buick from outside.

One lonely little flamingo had held its breath and dug its toes into the mud and held on.   He will get his brothers and sisters back soon.  And the "Flamingo Crossing" road sign.

AND THERE WAS SOME HUMOR IN ALL THIS.

 
        The neighbor's mean white cat goes under our big room through previously seen opening when the weather is bad.  We told the owner, Jim, it was there.  "Good!  Maybe it will drown."  This was not machismo but a wish. It is a mean cat.
        I told Bettie she could not go under there and look for it because there were all sorts of things under there it could climb on and never even get wet.   Between the floor joists is 24" of space above the rest of the house.
        Then late one night, she started crying.  (The cat; not Bettie.)  I could ignore it.  Bettie could not.  She told  Jim what we had decided she could do, but she could not go in.  Water would be over her shoulders.
        She got some big gloves and a piece of ply thinking the cat would happily jump on her rescue raft and bravely float away to dry earth.  Me?   I was not even going to get wet for this exercise.  I would cheer her on.
        As soon as she got around there and figured out that she would have to duck her head under water to go in and she knew she couldn't because I told her that she could not.
        So Jim, who hates the cat but likes Bettie, goes wading out to help her.  The cat, with good reason, is terrified of Jim, but Jim said he would go under and in.  (As I told Bettie she could not.)  He did.  Then I could hear him talking sweetly to the terrified cat. 
        He came back out and said there were lots of things for her to get on and the closer he got to the cat, the more the cat just backed up! 
        In this brave gesture, Jim forgot that he wore hearing aids and they stopped working while trying to talk to Bettie while under the floor.
           They agreed that the cat would not come out and it was perfectly safe in there with plenty of room to maneuver.  It might get hungry before the water goes down but it won't get thirsty or cold. 
     
         This is the big window to the back and is to the right side of the big TV.  Bettie is positioning the board and saying, "Here, Kitty-Kitty-Kitty,"  real sweetly.  I would have come out but then I am not a wild, stupid cat.  The reflection is the window sill runner and the top of a table near the window.

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