Rain, rain, go away—but be prepared if it doesn’t

 

              Be prepared, they say. Think ahead, they say. During last week’s Memorial Day weekend, meteorologists said to stay away from the rivers, that they were running high and fast. The geologists said to be prepared for an earthquake. The weather people told us how to survive a tornado. Doctors always tell us to either eat right and exercise, or be prepared to live a shorter life.

            I’m prepared if the world DOES explode, implode, burn or however it ceases to be. And, for the first time, I wrote out an earthquake survival guide for each room in my house.

Living room: lie under the piano and hold on to one of the legs. Dining room: crawl under the table and hold on to a leg. Kitchen or the three-windowed breakfast room: brace myself in the narrow space between the fridge and the washer/ dryer. Middle hall area: up against any inside wall, the free-standing mirror perhaps covering my upper body. Maybe not. Pulling glass out of my skull might not be easy—or pleasant.  My bedroom: under the bed.  Billy’s bedroom, ditto. The four-windowed back sitting room with half bath: run for the windowless bathroom.

Sometimes one can be prepared and it’s not enough. Think of the sandbagged houses and businesses that were still ruined during the recent rains and flooding.

 How can row-crop farmers be prepared for unusual weather events? With insurance, I would imagine. And prayer, probably. Even though it seemed the crops might thrive, too much water is as deadly as too little.

A few years back, the Boy Scout troop from out-of-state experienced what they’d been prepared for. One of the rivers spilled over its banks and stranded the group. Over and over, it was reported, they were prepared for survival, even without cell phone reception. And they were.

Many people, including myself, have prepared for our own deaths by purchasing a burial plan with a funeral home, a plot in a cemetery—for which an extra twenty-five dollars is due upon opening the grave. (Can’t you just see the deceased rising up during the final words and holding up the bills for the grave digger?)

True story: After Mom died, a cemetery trustee came by the house and asked the family for the money. Mom had prepared for everything but that.

“He may hope for the best that’s prepared for the worst.” (Treasury of Proverbs and Epigrams, p 101.)

One fellow would not prepare sandbags in front of his house, so it flooded. Another saw no use in boarding up his windows when a Category 3, 4, or 5 hurricane was predicted. “Those guys are never right,” he said. He likely applied for aid when his home was demolished.

Let's hope the rain lessens, but be prepared for whatever is up the road, down the river, or in the air.