After the Flood

The flash flood we had on Sunday though necessary with giving us water we desperately needed, did a job on the area — Mud, rocks, debris in the streets, on the property, the college campus closed due to a mudslide, Walmart closed due to flooding inside.

Some of our painted rocks washed away, some ended up covered in mud, while others stood their ground.

I loved it because, being upstairs, it gave the patio the power washing I’d been wanting to give it but couldn’t for fear of water dripping down to the patio of little miss Illusive Unfriendly living in the unit beneath me.

It took three days for the two maintenance guys to clear mud and debris from the walkways — management doesn’t want anything around that could cause an accident. Not that they’re concerned about us. What they’re concerned about is a resident tripping, falling, suing.

So the walkways are pristine clear, but the driveways are like a beach — dirt, gritty sand, tiny pebbles.

The beach extends to the streets — dirt, gritty sand, tiny pebbles and boulder like rocks. Driving from here to the Pain Cave is an obstacle course around those boulders, in order not to damage the Jeep’s tires.

It appears the larger obstructions are coming from the street and sidewalk corners literally breaking apart — substandard construction materials perhaps.

As one would do at the beach — play with the sand, someone (probably one of the local crackheads) had fun.

Yes, that is a sandcastle.

A flash flood is no joke, as I learned a few years back when I was returning from Starbucks.

I was at the corner, just yards from the complex when the sky suddenly opened up and dumped its contents seemingly on top of my car. I could not see in front of me, became fearful of what might be coming up behind me that could not see me stopped. As my vision adjusted to the blurs around me, I fortunately was able to safely make the corner turn, get to the complex driveway by which time as quickly as the sky dump began, it just as quickly stopped.

I shudder to think what would have happened had I been on the freeway.

The flash flood we had on Sunday was hours long — I forget how many inches per hour the news said, but I was snug as a bug in a rug inside, watching the patio get the power wash it needed.

He Wasn’t Exaggerating

Out walking early one morning this last week, I saw two big trucks come through the gate. The signage indicated the trucks were involved in the business of property restoration – water damage, fire damage, etc.

Hmmm, wonder what that’s about, thought I.

Next day out walking, I saw one of our residents had been displaced. Her doors and windows were open, some of her things were positioned on the patio railing as though they’d been hung out to dry, and I could hear a roaring sound coming from her unit which I recognized to be one of those industrial sized air blowers.

Putting two and two together, I figured the resident had water damage from letting the sink or the tub overrun.

Running into the Head Maintenance Man later in the day, I inquired and learned the resident had awakened at 2:30 in the morning, stepped out of bed and found herself swimming in what I thought I heard him say was “Five feet of water”. That a pipe underneath the building had burst, flooded her unit and she was now staying with a sister until everything could be sorted out.

Sounds like she woke up and found herself experiencing Katrina. Hope she’s got homeowner’s insurance cause, for sure, management isn’t going to accept any kind of responsibility for this – other than new paint, new carpet … and I wonder about mole damage.

At any rate, when I thought about it later, I convinced myself I’d heard incorrectly. That it could not possibly have been “Five feet of water” ... he must have said “Five inches”. That is until I saw the carpet people come in this morning and move her furnishings out of the way.

I'd not heard incorrectly and Head Maintenance Guy wasn’t exaggerating.

You can see where the water was so high that it either reached the table top or the water level lifted and caused the table to topple over into the water. Also, you can’t tell from the photo – because it’s in the shade, but the back of the piece behind the table has buckled and is coming apart at least five feet up from water damage.

Not only that, but the water spilled over to the neighbor on the back side of that unit, causing her to also be displaced.

This second neighbor has a piece of furniture that looks remarkably similar to the piece the other neighbor has and, on this photo, you can clearly see how high up the water came.

Wonder if and how the other four bottom units in that building managed to escape damage.

I also wonder if either resident will return, as I passed Nurse Ratched in conversation with Head Maintenance Guy about an hour ago. She was very animated – the word Drama Queen comes to mind and was saying, “We can’t do this. I’ll call the relatives and tell them to come get all this stuff, because we can’t.”

I’m thinking she wants them to come take the damaged furniture away.

Always something going on around here -- not activities, just stuff.