45. virgin mudslide

If only I were talking about a mocktail. Alas, no. 

Today, a mere three days after celebrating a sense of peace and completion in our recent household drama of water damage and weeks of repairs, we had a relapse. 

I woke up early today to get the kids ready for school, as it’s my long day (class until midnight) and I wanted Brent to have a low-stress day, so he could be rested for extended hours of parenting. The breakfast and get-ready rush wasn’t a rush at all, but a sweet and easy morning with the kids in which we sat together and marveled at the rain coming down outside the house, feeling safe and cozy ensconced in our freshly-tended house. 

Oh, the rain! The beautiful rain. 

When we headed off for school, I grabbed Brent’s keys in addition to mine, because Tanner’s jacket was thought to be in Brent’s car, and the school drop off round trip is only twenty minutes. Brent wasn’t going anywhere and surely wouldn’t need his car keys (or house keys, or gate keys… right?)

On the way out, I texted him, “I have your keys.”

After dropping the kids off in a blustery and wet huddle, I jumped back in the car and decided the sweet thing to do on my husband’s sleep in day would be to pick him up a cinnamon bun and some coconut bread from the bakery, so I made a detour.

Mere moments after securing the bag of baked goods, my phone rang. It was Brent, sounding frantic. 

“I need my keys,” he said, “water is coming in through the front door. The whole yard has flooded. The whole street came down.” 

We live on the middle of a hill - not the top, nor the bottom, but at a curve in the road which leads from hilltop farmland down to a tiny village. We learned today that when it rains heavily, the deluge creates a giant S-shaped waterslide which rushes down the hill, right into our front gate. 

It was a perfect freak storm. The drain cover of the street was blocked. The gate grate in front of our property, designed to prevent flooding, was blocked by leaves, rocks, and gravel which had washed from the dirt road a few thousand meters away. The drain pipe of the yard was also blocked with leaves and sticks, preventing water from flowing away from the house and into the street.

In the span of ten minutes, a literal flash flood occurred and created a mudslide which washed into our yard, covered our patio, crept in beneath the front door (which was just resealed) and the determined waters of my recent undoing found their way again to live beneath our floorboards. 

I drove home as fast as I safely could in the rain, and arrived to find the worst of the storm had passed, but the aftermath was evident. Suffice it to say, we have some re-engineering to do in relation to our property structure to prevent future floods. Grateful to say, we figured that out today and it could have been a lot worse. 

One of the beautiful things about our community here is that help is always on the way. Within an hour, we had sandbags and set to work cleaning up the yard, soaking up the interior flood with all the towels in the house, and putting on a good face about the fact that Mars retrograde, That Little Fucker, struck again.

(side note: I'm starting to think maybe he doesn't like his nickname. I'm starting to think it might behoove me to give him a new one.)

It’s :15 past midnight and I’m tired in body and mind, but surprisingly, my spirit feels pretty all right. Days like today, I’m profoundly appreciative of the gift astrology gives me - because whether it’s ‘real’ or not, it helps me tell a more meaningful story about why the fuck things are sometimes just hard. 

This is just a hard(ish) moment when it comes to the responsibility of being a homeowner. It’s a hard moment when it comes to the realities of the impact of climate change. It’s a hard moment in doing a seventeenth load of laundry for the week. It’s a hard moment knowing that wake-up tomorrow is coming all too soon, it’s day 2 of my bleed, and I am past-due for some deep rest. 

But also, we own a beautiful home and we get to take care of it. Also, I have a heart that is paying attention to climate change, and can empathize with Earth’s current volatility. Also, thank Goddess we have a washer and also a dryer. Also, I get to wake up tomorrow with the ones I love and have matcha. Also, I know what day 2 of my cycle means for me, and I will care for my body with deep affection. 

It can be hard(ish), and it can be exhausting, and it can also be good and all right with my soul.

This virgin mudslide may not be our last, but it was our first, and it was a much-needed lesson. So I’ll toast with my imaginary mocktail to the teachers and tricksters bringing the lessons, and then I’ll crash into bed and pray for tomorrow to be light showers, breakthrough sun, and a high chance of rainbows.