Raining again, flooding again, stuck again.  It’s to the point that it’s become routine.   Blame it on El Nino, but it really doesn’t matter.  It is what it is.  Most people in the canyon live on the west side of the creek, the side the road is on.  But there are a few of us who live on the east side, the folks at Aravaipa Farms, Charlie and Jeau and me.   Aravaipa Farms is a family owned bed and breakfast operation.    There are at least three people there at all times.   Charlie and Jeau have two things going for them.   They have each other and they do have a back road that, although it’s primitive, they can take it to get to Mammoth in an emergency.  As for me, I am alone.  I am the one person in the canyon who is completely isolated when the waters rise.  I have no back road.

A few people called to give me pep talks. 

“Hang in there.”

“You’re safe and in a beautiful place.”

“It could be worse.  You could still be in Chicago buried in snow.”

“It won’t rain forever.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know all this stuff.  I also know it takes sheer force of will to keep my spirits up and I am determined to do that.

Each morning I get up around 6:15 a.m., the time that Kitty’s belly tells her it’s time for breakfast.   After I feed her I shower and wash my hair.  I blow my hair dry and then curl it so it looks decent.  After I dress I put on a pair of small earrings.    Even though I won’t see anyone, it makes me feel better to be clean and neat.   I eat a good breakfast.   I check the online site for the latest water update and check the weather.   Then I shut down and meditate for an hour before I start the day’s work.  I do these things for me.   They keep me sane while I wait out the flood waters.   

From time to time it can still be hard to stay positive and focused.  Sometimes I  feel trapped.  And so today, as I listened to the creek rumbling by and the rain splattering on the roof, I decided a rampage of appreciation was in order.

I am grateful for:

·         How green the landscape has become.

·         The desert flowers that are on the verge of blooming.

·         The garden which is ready for planting. 

·         The herbs I planted in pots last week are thriving.

·         The cottonwoods and how they grace the banks of the creek.

·         The mist on the mountain.

·         The sun when it peeks through.

·         The little bird sitting outside the window.

·         The fact that we haven’t lost power! 

·         The ever changing music of the water. 

·         No need to wash the car.

·         The folks who call to check on me.

·         The pleasant temperatures.

·         The loss of control.  Surrendering to the fact that I am not in control is a relief.

·         Time.

·         Today.



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