And the Rain Came

When our girls were young teens, we liked to go tent camping and boating at Lake DeGray.  We were always anxious to get out for the first time each season, which usually resulted in a trip over the long Memorial Day weekend.   We would get there early on Saturday morning and pitch our tent.   The year I remember most clearly was one when both girls brought a friend.   Chrissy and her friend Leslie were about 13, and Charla and her friend Ashley were about 10.  The older girls had their own small tent and the younger pair had their bed in ours..   Once the camp was set up we headed out on the lake for a day of fun.   We returned to camp tired and waterlogged, and after dinner went to bed shortly after dark.   As soon as we fell asleep, after a long interlude of adolescent giggling, the weather took a turn.   The wind picked up, and the thunder and  light show began.   This brief period was followed by a sudden torrential rain.   About this time, we began to think that maybe we should have collected the older kids into our tent.   The younger ones were huddled in the center of the tent, begging us to go home.   About that time we heard the car door slam and we realized that the older kids had fled through the flood to the car.   Although secretly we shared the thought of heading home, we had no interest in pulling down two tents in the dark gale, so we waited out the storm.   Looking back, I think it only lasted a couple of hours but it was a long 2 hours.   And, did I mention that the tent leaked?   The first sign of leakage was that any bedding which was touching the side, wicked water.   We were wall-to-wall beds, but did our best to pull everything to the center, away from the canvas.   In the morning, we realized why that action had little effect.   There was an 8" moat of standing water all the way around the perimeter of the inside of the tent.   The beds were wet.   The blankets were wet.   Our clothes were wet.  WE were wet.    In the morning the sun came out; the birds sang; we hung out our bedding to dry, and had another great day of boating.   But after boating, the girls outvoted us and we headed home for a dry night at the house.

This vivid memory came back last night when the storm moved in.   We were not in a tent, but Mexican houses are not exactly water-proof.   We were awakened by wind, thunder and lightning, that sounded like an oncoming tornado sounds in Arkansas.   The house is all windows and skylights, so we could hear the rain pounding the house.   The lightning cracks revealed palm trees blowing in all directions.   We got up when we heard it coming and closed the windows.   In the midst of it, we rechecked the windows.   It lasted for a couple of hours.   I later learned that we got over 2 inches of rain in that period, and that in town several large trees had blown down.   We woke up to find our bedroom and family room floors standing in water.   The foot of the comforter on our bed was lying in water and it was wicking up the bed.   A red throw rug was sharing its color with a once-green throw blanket whose corner was touching it.   The swimming pool is running over.   But the sun is out and laughing at us.   The floors are tile, and are now cleaner than they were yesterday.   I had flashbacks to those days of tent camping, but realized I AM home!