Sunday, October 16, 2005
Just six days later the second tooth is gone, once again yanked out by Dr. Grandpa Dentist.
On Friday he revealed to me over the phone that there is no kung-fu grip, only crude force. Duly noted, and the suggestion squeamishly disregarded.
We invited them over for dinner, just like last weekend, without an ulterior motive. (I swear!) I hope they don't feel exploited.
On Friday he revealed to me over the phone that there is no kung-fu grip, only crude force. Duly noted, and the suggestion squeamishly disregarded.
We invited them over for dinner, just like last weekend, without an ulterior motive. (I swear!) I hope they don't feel exploited.
The worst rain since Hurricane Carol in 1955
(Or was that '54? Whatever...)
Sunday we saw the sun for the first time in nine or ten days, during which most of a year's rain seems to have fallen. We took the kids around on Sunday to see the flodding so they can bore people with stories of "The Flood of '05" when they get older. (Click any of the images for a larger version.)
On Saturday, the local FOX-TV weather man said that our town had received something like nine inches of rain in 24 or 36 hours, after a full week of drizzle and storms. The accumulation of water caused flooding all over northern Rhode Island as sodden land gave up its rain to already-full rivers.
We stopped for pizza dough at the local grocery store, and day-car-teacher-turned-cashier Amy told us that Stop & Shop had flooded, so all those people were coming to our store. Yep, Stop & Shop, the same store having its Grand Reopening to celebrate all the redecoration. (Ugh.) So we grabbed snacks and a camera, and set off to see some Other Peoples' Misery for
the morning fun.
We couldn't get within two blocks of the store for the police cruiser barring the road -- no Stop & Gape for us -- so we drove around the block and stared slack-jawed at it from another street. Flooded, yes, as was the apartment building next door, and the business pictured here:
Can you read that sign? Yep, a towing service. If the owners thought those cars needed repairs before, with 'til they call in on Monday. (Submerged to the top of its tires in front of the red awning in the center rear is a Caterpillar bucket loader!)
This is a few hundred yards from the banks of the Blackstone River (which I'm obligated to note as the Cradle Of The American Industrial Revolution). We drove a few miles upstream to the Albion Dam, which was way high:
Can you see the waves jumping up from its crest? I heard it said that "flood stage" is nine feet, and the river had hit 15.4 Sunday morning.
Next to the dam is part of the bike path that follows much of the Blackstone's course from Worcester, MA, to Narragansett Bay. Here, the river has climbed up its banks and is eating away at the edge of the bike path just behind our feet. (It used to be about 15 feet to the rwater's edge.)
And here's a faux arty shot of the standing wave, about the height of a shoetop, in the middle of the bike path:
Turning to look north, upstream, you can see that following the yellow lines is no longer a good idea.
Our in-laws stopped back there later, and noted the strange sight of a man walking through the water, carrying his bike. They had to ask what he was doing, and he told them he's an engineer who works for the company that designed the bike path. (That's not really an answer why he carried his bike and got that nasty water on his legs, but that's an engineer for you.)
We got back in the car and drove to the next dam, maybe a mile upstream. The water there was even higher, coursing over the dam and almost overspilling the walls of great stone blocks that had held it for so long.
Most times, the river here sweeps slowly along below the village of Manville, with just a few eddies and ripples -- but certainly never this kind of furious foaming whitewater.
