The world is a flood

The great flood of 2011 is here. The bridge is closed. Pedestrians are taking Sunday strolls with babies and cameras to capture the fun of another swollen-water spring. Shops are having 'floodwatch 2011' sales. The corner malt shop is hoppin'--why? Because that's what you do, grab a malt and watch the flood.

I entered the paper's contest to correctly guess when the bridge would close/reopen. I missed it by 6 hours! The winner gets a year's subscription to the paper. When I saw the live trucks lined up around 5:30, I knew my prediction was doomed.

Actually, all signs so far this year say the flood is going to be less than epic, and that is good. The forecasters definitely scared us with this one. Back during the wet fall and snowy December, they started talking about the spring flood. It *was* predicted to be as bad as it was in 1965, when water was actually up to the second floor of my house and someone used dynamite to blast away a part of downtown in an effort to channel the waters away from the majority of houses. Like good Minnesotans, everyone rebuilt exactly where they were before and they built up the flood control system.

We started actually getting concerned when the city sent us a letter outlining the flood plan and updating citizens on diversion channels and how great our levee is. The letter went into great detail about how our levee could withstand a 100 year flood and even a 500 year flood. (How do they even know that?) Then, they'd point out on the bottom that if you wanted flood insurance, this is what you need to do.... And above all, don't panic. We asked ourselves, should we be panicking? We asked our neighbors, are you panicking? We called our insurance agent, should we be panicking?

Then, the next town over, who I guess doesn't have an awesome levee, started raising their levee by three feet. Two towns over, they started sandbagging. Another town put out a call for sandbaggers. Everyone waited and watched with fingers poised above the proverbial panic button.

Then, a slow thaw. Forecasters say it's the perfect thaw for a spring flood. Warm during the day, freezing at night. The end of March might have a hint of spring, but don't let those robins fool you. It's still 30-something or 40-something during the day and in the teens at night. You still need those wool socks and long underwear.

Our sump pump hasn't kicked on yet. As we checked out the flood on our Sunday stroll with baby and camera in tow, we noted water was going down instead of continuing to rise. The expected crest is this week, and people are hoping we don't get another snow.

We still aren't panicking, but this might warrant a trip to the malt shop anyway.