Yesterday (Sunday) morning as Hurricane Irene approached Vermont, I thought I'd go over to Wild Apple and take advantage of the rainy day to catch up on paperwork. I had to wade through a small ankle-high overflow from the brook, but no big deal.
Karen was also there, and she showed a little more concern - and sense - about the storm. So we used a ton of cardboard to "sandbag" the most vulnerable door. I checked the water level every half hour or so, and every time the water was higher and closer to the building. Eventually Dianne called to say she and her husband were concerned I'd get stuck in the building and they made me leave (rightly so). My last check revealed a tiny leak, not under the cardboard-sandbagged door, but coming in at the base of one of the walls. The brook overflow was up to my knees on the way out. The entire parking lot was a river.
I was 100% certain we would have flooding in the building, and I spent the afternoon watching endless TV coverage of blown out roads, flooded homes, and destroyed businesses around Vermont and right in our town of Woodstock. Meanwhile, it rained and rained. There was no way the water wouldn't penetrate the warehouse.
Sleep was scarce - I think I saw every 15 minute interval on my clock. Finally dawn arrived, dry and sunny, and the flooding had clearly receded. I headed over to Wild Apple, with a couple of detours due to bad roads. As I approached the office, I saw the overflow from the brook had completely disappeared, and 2/3 of the parking lot was clear, if a bit muddy and messy. Entering the building, I was relieved that the water hadn't come all the way into the offices, and progressing further, that the water had not touched the printing presses, my worst fear.
Taking a deep breath I continued into the warehouse braced for...an inch of water? a foot? a nightmare? But all I saw was dry concrete floor. Hopes rising along with the fear of jinxing it, right up to the wall where there had been that little leak when I left - totally moisture free! No one was there to high five or fist pump but this was one extremely happy camper.
There's nothing like the relief of being wrong when you know something is going to go badly. It's as good as waking up from a bad dream to safety and a beautiful day. I couldn't be more grateful.