Archive for September, 2011

September 28, 2011

September 27, 2011: A dream or something else?

Bob had a dream that he has put in the class of ‘dreams’ that are more like experiences. Not a real dream, but an experience he has while he is sleeping, which Nuttah has done with him a number of times. Sort of a short-cut version of the ‘time-travel’ experiences, maybe a little less hard on her and the traveler. This one though, involved my mother. My mother died after a sudden illness more than 3 years ago.  Recently, and I don’t know if this started before or after Bob’s ‘dream’, but I’ll have an experience walking up to our bedroom at night, and as soon as I enter the door to that part of the house, where I usually encounter Joe, I’ll get chills and goosebumps, and almost simultaneously, a vision of my mother will come into my head. And I continue on up the stairs to the bedroom, and then forget, until the next night, the same thing happens. It’s been about the last 2-3 weeks I would say. And then Bob related this dream that he had recently:

Bob finds himself sitting at an outdoor bar on a cold day in the middle of winter. The bar was down the hill from a building that had the look of a southern Plantation style home. A little odd, considering how cold it was at this outdoor winter bar.  So Bob is sitting there, and he glances over to the seat at the right of him. My mother is sitting in that seat, and she just kind of ‘appeared’ there, she hadn’t been there before. I am somewhere in this ‘dream”, but I was not present when my mother appeared. In her hands, she is showing Bob a bowl that she is carrying — a kind of small, brownish, ceramic bowl. Into this bowl, she pours some pebbles: small, black, shiny pebbles, about the size of peas. Then, and she has Bob observe carefully what she is doing, she pours a liquid over the stones. It is a thick, viscous, purple liquid, and with it, she surrounds the pebbles in the bowl. Then, she produces a match, with which she lights a wick that is sticking out of the mixture. Shortly, everything in the bowl then becomes chilled; chilling downwards from the top of the bowl. With this demonstration, there was a sense of urgency that the information be relayed to Bob, and that he “gets it”. The upshot of the effect as Bob understood it was “chilling without refrigeration”.

I can’t say that this has not been a “hot” topic of Bob’s all summer, as he’s tried to figure out ways to both make our house cooler, as well as his environment at work. (It’s been an insanely hot, humid summer this year). And then my mother shows up with this bowl, stones, and liquid. Apparently, my Dad was in the dream somewhere too, but he must have been off with me wherever I was. Bob marveled at his ability to remember the many details of the dream, which he usually does not. He came away from this ‘dream’ feeling as if he had been shown something important, something he needed to remember, and also to figure out how to do.

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September 27, 2011

Event #254: Tuesday, September 27, 2011

My first email from Bob this morning:
I didn’t want to get up this morning, I spent the entire night in puppy dreams. They seemed so real, left the house very depressed and in a fog, literally and figuratively. Fog ALL the way in. The dreams were in some ways typical but in other ways not at all.  I started out just dreaming of Dukey and having normal activities with him on the deck and in the yard, but, this is where it seemed like typical dream stuff, I would be playing with him and he would suddenly be Tëme and then back to Duke just as quickly. Then dreams of Tëme along the creek, here and there would turn into Duke and then back again. Nuttah and the old joints “appeared” in some dreams, mostly Nuttah, she didn’t say much, just:

“He is happy (referring to Duke/Tëme, whoever was there at the moment) you are happy, then so am I. He found his friend his way, I found you my way, be thankful” .

It was overwhelming when she said it to me, being overcome with the enormity of what is inferred still. I don’t know if it is just a dream or another psychotic episode or both, but I have never before had a continuous dream throughout an entire night, especially having woken several times and reentered the dream. I don’t know what to think, the dreams had some episodes at their place that I don’t have any recollection of in my current history, almost like it was events Tëme and Nuttah’s father experienced together before he died. But if it is just dreams, it is meaningless. I would like to believe otherwise, if they are other than dreams, Nuttah’s father was quite a guy. There are some things that I haven’t written, maybe, as I have time and remember, I will.

Duke & Tëme on the dresser merged as one dog

And mine back to Bob:
I would assume that they are NOT dreams; that it was a real picture in some way. I wish I could get that too. What I did get though, gives me some measure of comfort, as I see visually on the dresser, what I think she was saying to you in the dream. But I don’t understand it, I can’t begin to understand it.

And then on the morning of September 28, Bob wrote this email:
I know this is complete silliness. but somewhere on my computer (somewhere that is not in my “pictures” file) I have a picture of Dukey looking directly at me while I am sitting on the deck with them. Since Thursday, that picture has shown up in my screensaver images everyday at least once when I walk in my office.  Pictures of him popping up before that were extremely rare. And I can’t find where the picture is on the computer.

Now just me narrating: This reminds me of the songs (mostly that Bob reports) that interrupt the middle of a radio talk show; songs that have meaning to Bob or the listener, just ‘appearing’ on the airwaves. And there have been other random images and weird coincidences that happen. For instance, something started happening involving my mother (who is deceased) that make me wonder if it is coincidence or something driven somehow? I will write that up in the next post.

September 26, 2011

Event #253: Monday, Sept. 26, 2011

Bob sent me this email this morning, and below it is my reply:

I meant to ask you, was there any activity last night? There was serious walking around upstairs when I came down this morning, enough for me to go search all around. Obviously nothing found. I also don’t think it was coincidence that Dukey kept showing up on my screensaver here last Thursday. My friend was saying good bye.

Me: I didn’t hear anything last night, or see anything moved or changed. I’ve been getting a lot of images of turtles though. All different ways, but turtles nevertheless. Always the same kind of turtle – the type from here.

Bob’s last comment in his email requires a little explanation. Bob has some pictures that randomly show on his work computer as a screensaver. He says that over time, he will see one of the 4 he has of Duke only occasionally – once a week at the most. And Thursday, the fateful day at the vet, all 4 pictures of Duke kept showing up on his screensaver repeatedly. Enough times to both get Bob’s attention and to cause agony each time he saw him.

Bob and I then talked later while I was at work, and I asked him about what he heard. “Just walking around, really obvious walking on the floors above me”.

Kind of spooky, but not exactly the first time that’s occurred in the front of the house. I sit here almost every night, doing this or something else at my desk, and I never hear anything, or almost never. Certainly not clear footsteps, cause I think that would get me out of here pretty quick. So I asked Bob if he noticed any changes in our room, and in particular with all the characters I left on the dresser.
“No.” was the reply.
“How ’bout the bedside tables?” I wondered.
“Nope.”, said Bob.
I was a little disappointed, I must say. I thought, since that event on Saturday when I placed all the dogs on the dresser, that it was about time for another one. I needed something. Something to understand what went on with Dukey and the Teme, the male wolf. We are so distraught; we want something, some kind of explanation. Not so much for Duke; we understand that. We aren’t dealing with it well, but we understand medical things and irreversible health issues. But why did Teme have to die too? He was healthy dog – a relatively young dog. That’s the big unanswerable question that has us hurting even more. So when I came home, I anxiously went up and peered at the dresser. It wasn’t obvious at first, there are so many dogs on the dresser — but then in the dim light cast only by the TV, I spotted it. Duke and Teme are merged. This time they are not reversed like the last time when they appeared like ghostly white “blanks” in the field of dogs. They are facing forward, but they are completely merged as if one dog. I guess they were one dog. This is what I am coming to understand. They are one and the same. Duke was the Teme male. But how is that possible? They occupied different time-frames, and different looking bodies — but the spirit in each dog was the same. This is just too much, but the death of Duke, and the simultaneous death of the male wolf is a huge clue as to how this whole thing works together. And now they are one, I think that is the message tonight from Nuttah. There are some other changes as well; a heart points at Bob, sitting on top of one of the little stabilizing stones.  When I studied the changes the next morning, in better light, what I realized that Nuttah had done was to simply remove Duke from his stand, and place him in the same stand as his wolf counterpart. I feel only a tiny bit better, the world is still not right without Duke:

September 24, 2011

Event #252: Saturday, September 24, 2011

In our grief on Saturday, we busied ourselves with different things around the house. My heart was not in anything, nor was Bob’s. Everything felt awful. I even blew off a mini-high school reunion event I had committed to be part of. Just couldn’t muster the energy or desire, and I knew Bob would find it unbearable, so it was an easy decision. I was not getting anything productive done, so decided to do something related to what Nuttah had shown Bob the previous evening. What he’d been shown was so disturbing to both of us that we could barely think about it, but I wanted to understand. I thought that I should give Nuttah some characters to work with, as most had disintegrated by now. Looking through pictures on my computer, I found a good one of each one of our dogs: Duke, Stupe, and Wiley, who we most often call “Wobbles”. For each dog, I crafted a stand-up “character”, similar to the dolls I’d made for each of us. Then I found on the internet a good resemblance that would represent the male wolf, and another one for the female wolf. And lastly, I recreated Bob’s still-missing character. And I don’t know why, but I also added a bark-hut to the mix. One of those little huts that Bob saw on one of his trips there, but this picture was taken at the Lenape Village. Here is the whole array of characters, the way I left them set up on the bureau; our 3 dogs, the wolves, Bob & me, Nuttah as the angel, and of course a couple of hearts:

Our 3 pups + 2 of the Teme, me, Bob, Nuttah and the bark-hut: click to see full size

Then I got busy doing our usual Saturday stuff. Bob was really too depressed to do much of anything, and I understood that. There was some college ball on that he could distract himself with. I went up to the bedroom a bit later, just to see if there had been any change. At first, it almost eluded me. As soon as I realized what it was though, I gasped. Oh no. What I was seeing, was almost exactly the same scene that I had left, except Duke and the male wolf were now turned around. They were reversed, so that what showed was the back of them which is solid white. It was clear though: they were ghosts – the 2 of them; white, blank ghosts in the field of dogs. On the one hand, I was relieved that she’d visited and left a message, but on the other hand, it was so disturbing what the message was, and it just reinforced all that we’d gotten so far. I was so sad about this afterwards, that I eventually went back up and turned them back around to face front so that we wouldn’t have to continually look at their “ghost” sides.

Duke and Teme have been turned to the wall, they appear as 2 ghosts

September 24, 2011

Event #251: Early Saturday AM: Sept. 24, 2011

The next night was Friday night, 9/23, and we had an obligation we couldn’t get out of. We attended with heavy hearts and kept a brave face throughout the evening, but both went to bed miserable. Luckily, we were exhausted, because I doubt either of us would have slept otherwise. About 3 or so in the morning, I awoke to Bob ‘rolling’ out of bed. I say rolling, because when his back is bothering him, rather than get out of bed normally he kind of rolls out, and then straightens up slowly after his feet are on the floor. He groaned a couple of times too, or kind of grunted. I rolled over to look at him, he was kind of kneeling on the floor next to the bed and grunted again. I rolled closer to see up close, and to ask him if he was alright. He didn’t answer, just more sort of unintelligible grunts. His left hand was up to his forehead, the elbow propped on a knee, and his right hand on his right ear, or at least the right side of his head. I thought, briefly, did the phone ring, and I didn’t hear it? Is he responding to someone on the phone? But the telephone was in its cradle on his bedside table. “Gheean” said Bob. I thought he was talking then to our brother in law “Gene”, and I looked for the light of a cell phone, knowing he does not bring that up to the bedroom. “Who are you talking to?”, I inquire — but almost as soon as I say this, I realize that Bob is not here. I mean he is here on the floor in the bedroom, but he is “gone” – gone there, and the sounds he is making, the talking he is doing is “there”. I can hear him – and his voice is audible here, but it’s clear to me that he is there. How was this clear? He was speaking Lenape – it suddenly became clear to me – fluent Lenape  —  and at the point this realization comes over me, an entire phrase in Lenape comes out of Bob’s mouth, not even sounding like Bob’s voice, perfect Lenape language, the way I’ve come to understand it, with the perfect Lenape inflection.

“Wtëlinàmën” – I’m pretty sure is what I heard, and again:

I could also tell that whatever Bob was witnessing there was getting him really upset, and witnessing this, I was getting upset as well. I had the sense it might have something to do with Duke. He was drawing in his breath sharply, sighing deeply as he let it out. Then all of a sudden, Bob goes completely limp, and collapses to the floor. He’s now laying on the floor by the bed, barely breathing, and I put my hand on him to make sure he still was. I was greatly torn between shaking him back to “here”, or leaving him alone. I can only imagine what is going on “there” and I did not want to interrupt the process in the hopes that maybe he was being shown where our Duke was, maybe having an encounter with him. Then, before I’m forced to do something, he slowly, almost like it’s causing him great pain to do so, gets up to kneeling again, and there are more fluent Lenape words.  I realize in a short while, because his breathing has somewhat changed that now he is “back”. Back fully conscious in the bedroom. I was in tears. “Did you see him”?? I croaked out in a choking voice, asking about Duke and hoping beyond hope that he’d been able to see where our Duke went.

“Then what, what was it?”
“It was bad – I can’t talk about it, I just want to go back to sleep.”
“But what about Duke, did you learn anything?” As much as Bob clearly didn’t want to talk about what had just happened, it was going to be impossible for me to just turn over and go back to sleep.
“No. Nothing about Duke. It was about the tëme – the wolf.”
“What – what about them?”
Slowly, chokingly, the words coming out with great difficulty, Bob said, “Not them. Him. Only the male. He’s dead. Nuttah showed me the grave.”

Hearing this, all the horror and sadness of what had happened Thursday with Duke was welling up in me, and now it seemed like it was not even just Duke.
“When!? What happened to him?”
“She said 2 days ago, he just laid down, and he died.”
“Oh my God, I killed both of them!” I was almost hysterical now, I couldn’t believe this horrible outcome. Two days ago was when Duke had left us and I was there with the vet, and I was responsible.
Bob tried to console me that it was not my fault and that they did not hold it against us, but it didn’t work. The guilt, the sorrow, the horror that welled up in me was unbelievable. Now it was not just Duke gone from us, but the Papa-Wolf, the father of the 3 new young pups, and the mate of the Mama-wolf. I have never met the wolves, the tëme; I’ve never yet “gone there”, but the stories Bob has told me of them are as real to me as if they are pets. And I know how much they mean to Bob, meant to Kitchi, and mean to the tribe. This outcome was just too much to bear, compounded with the loss of Duke. How could this happen? How were they linked? Are they the same animal? Too many questions to ponder, unanswerable questions. I don’t know that we’ll ever answer these questions. I couldn’t sleep after this. I laid awake inconsolable ’til after 6 am, unable to cry anymore, and miserable beyond belief, trying to distract myself listening to the radio. Bob was awake most of this time too, but we were both too sad, distraught, and tired to talk about it anymore.

The next morning, unslept and feeling raw, I looked up the one clear memorable Lenape phrase that I’d heard Bob say: “wtëlinàmën?”
“What happened to him?” is how it translates. There is no clear answer yet to that question.

September 22, 2011

Today is 10/6/11, but this happened Sept. 22

A handsome picture of Duke from 2007

This is a sad post to write. 2 weeks ago today, we lost our Dukey. I haven’t been able to post about this, because for Bob and I, it has just been too sad and traumatic. That temporary rebound Duke had, when I thought (desperately hoping?) that there had been an intervention of native medicine? It was just that — I mean temporary. We had him back in to the vet Thursday morning, September 22, and the prognosis was grim. I actually did write it all up shortly afterwards, but I couldn’t even re-read it, let alone post it. And I couldn’t put Bob through that either. We needed time. Time to grieve, time to mourn, time to absorb the sadness about the loss. All of that is hardly past us now, we still think about Duke every day. We miss him, Duke was a member of our family. He was a shepherd, and he was not young and apparently, dogs of his breed are prone to a specific kind of cancer – and he had a tumor of the spleen and was bleeding internally. Radical surgery was not going to help him either. And so he is gone. Passed on to the spirit world. Bob is simply grief-stricken, and we are trying to cope with the loss. But the reason I post this now, is because there are events that have transpired since the passing of Dukey that are critical to understanding the connections between Nuttah’s world and ours. I don’t claim to understand them, I am trying to grasp all of the meaning, but with my limited brain-power, it is almost hopeless. And then a couple nights after Dukey passed, I was to witness one of the strangest, yet most interesting of the events for me, to date. Knowing about Dukey is critical to understanding what happens next, and I hope to get caught up sometime this weekend with all of the things that have transpired since.

September 18, 2011

Event #250: Sunday Morning, Sept. 18, 2011

A picture of our "Dukey" from awhile back

This summer, our biggest dog, Dukey, has been having some health problems. Duke is the shepherd, who is mentioned a lot in the blog because he often goes on ‘the adventures’. Duke is not a young dog, and we’ve had him to the vet a lot because of his conditions, which include Lyme disease and skin infections and allergies. Bob had been trying to get him to the vet for a couple of weeks and had to postpone appointments because he couldn’t get out of work in time. Finally, we arranged for me to take him on Friday. He tested positive again for Lyme (we do have a lot of deer ticks around here), so he was sent home with a new prescription for a month-long course of antibiotics to deal with the Lyme. He’d lost his appetite, and had lost weight, and seems lethargic. I gave him his first dose Friday when I got home with him. The next morning, he was not better, he was worse. But it was Saturday, and the vet was not open, otherwise we would have called. By Saturday evening, poor Duke was really bad. Our daughter, Kate, had come out to visit and thought she should say good-bye to him for good. Bob tried to eye-dropper him some liquids, as he was not taking anything. Not the medicine, nor any food or water. Duke, it seemed, was leaving us. We said good night reluctantly, and neither Bob nor I slept very well Saturday night thinking about what might be going on with Duke. Bob got up ahead of me Sunday morning, and I worried about what he might be going downstairs to. I got up shortly after, and immediately looked out the window to see what pups were on the deck — and there was Duke! Before I came down, Bob had time to write me this email:

Had an unbelievably happy morning. After a restless night worrying about what I was going to find with Dukey, dreaming of digging his grave and carrying him to it,  I came down and hesitantly opened the basement door to find him standing there wagging his tail. Not fully recovered, but up and more alert. Got them out and then tried some more of the chicken soup, this time he didn’t need the eye dropper. Ate it all, entire can, even the carrots. Decided since it was a beautiful cool morning to start a fire in the chiminea. I got things going and went to hunt and gather more wood.  Headed towards the creek off the deck and ‘was gone’. [I then find myself] standing by the creek with Nuttah and saw Dukey and Waffles about 50 yards downstream from us. She called to them and they both trotted up to us. Nuttah immediately hugged Dukey, I have never seen her do that before, he licked her face. Nuttah sat on a rock by the creek with Dukey beside her, I was behind them. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at me. She said the fire was important and I got a flash of “ancestors” when she said it. Look for the antler.

Now me just narrating: Duke made this miraculous recovery. We both really thought that we were going to lose him. I think that perhaps Nuttah had a hand in this: remember, she is “the medicine woman”. Monday, I wrote this email to Bob with my thoughts:

“You know I had this sodden thought while on the towpath – maybe Dukey was the way he was Saturday night because she had him “there”. Maybe he was being ministered to with Native medicines, and then she brought him back Sunday feeling better. You were pretty out of it / non-responsive when you were “there”, at least your “here” body was. Just a thought.”

If you missed the post about when I witnessed Bob “going there”, here is a link to it. And the comment above about the antler — “Look for the antler”? That’s because we lost it. Well, I’m not sure that we actually LOST it, or if it was moved. Anyway, we can’t find it, and we’ve looked everywhere. The only thing that I succeeded in finding was another, different bone (this time a leg) up in a tree about 5 feet off the ground. This tree stands right off of our deck, and the flood waters definitely did not go THAT high. That one has no explanation either. How do these things GET there?? And where is the antler??

September 13, 2011

Event #249: Tuesday evening, September 13, 2011

Tuesday evening, Bob wrote me this email:
I got up from sitting on the deck having a brew with the puppies to get their water bucket for fresh water, walked to the edge of the deck and stepped off to another place. [I was] met by a pack of wolves, Waffles and Duke in tow. Creekside with dups (the pups) and Nuttah. She put a necklace on me and smiled at me, it had bone and shell in it, maybe some stones, she was very happy. We walked along the creek, downstream, past the sweat lodge. Never gone this way before that I remember. [There was a] wide open pool about 100 yards downstream from where our house would be. Very deep, I think, full of beautiful brookies, 100’s of them. All swimming in place at the top of the pool. Duke is not missing any hair and I have no shirt, just pants that are not all the way to my ankles. Deerskin, I guess. I remembered to ask about across the stream. It is still there, but not across from us, upstream. No idea what it is. The [wolf] puppies are not small anymore, they are almost the size of the parents, but much more carefree. Duke went off with the father into the woods, I tried to call him by name, nothing came out. I yelled temě, they both stopped and came back immediately. Nuttah smiled and said “they listen”, at least that is what I remember. I said, can you bring An’na, she said yes, if she will come. She will, I said. Tell An’na I miss her.

[Then I am] back on the step, [with the] dups in the walk way. I am seeing a pattern, [I have to be] either somnolent or slightly intoxicated. I love you Awup An’na. Please come to her, she wants you there.

Bob called me at work to have me look at this email, which I did. All I could do was marvel over it. This hasn’t happened in awhile, and I was curious as to why then? Bob refers in it to the thing that was uncovered in the flood waters. It turns out that despite our fears that it was dislodged or washed away in flood #2 (the high waters as a result of Tropical Storm Lee), it is actually still there. We have just been looking in the wrong place. Must go upstream sometime soon, and see if we can see whatever it is.

And this is part of an email Bob sent me the next morning:
Can’t get the memory of the trout pool out of my head, that was pretty amazing. I am really wondering where I am during these episodes, what is actually happening. Why am I not completely freaked out and having panic attacks? Maybe I am as dumb as the dups.

September 10, 2011

Event #248: Saturday, Sept. 10, 2011

A relic of an antler lays on the deck Saturday morning

We were in the kitchen Saturday morning getting our coffee. Bob said something about a thing he’d found on the deck that morning. “It wasn’t there yesterday”, he said. Bob asked me if I’d seen it.

“What is it?”, I wondered.

“Bones… or an antler”, Bob replied. “It was laying on the deck this morning.”

“Show me where it is”, I said.

Bob took me out to the deck, and sure enough, laying there amidst the debris from our Irene flood, some early falling leaves, and the morning’s raindrops, was a bone/antler. I picked it up. When I turned it to its end, I saw that it was definitely an antler — what kind of antler, I was not exactly sure, but it had to be an antler because of its base.  It looked like it had been chewed on too, by some animal. This antler clearly seemed to have been “placed” here – our dogs could not have done it, because they haven’t been on the deck since the flood. The yard got pretty chewed up, and we’re not letting them pass through there.

“Do you think this is the artifact??” I wondered. Was this the thing she’d sent us looking for when we were told that ‘something was uncovered by the flood’?

The base of the "bone" we found; determined to be an antler

Bob said he didn’t think so. Then later that same day, after I’d set the antler up to take some pictures of it, Bob was sitting at the back door just staring at it. (I’m sitting here in my office typing this, and without touching it, my TV has just turned itself off… I don’t even have a remote for this TV, so I could not have put it on timer)

The antler standing up - this seems like a very old relic

Anyway, Bob staring at the antler… As he is doing that, he also gets a strong visual memory of the scene he was taken to see on August 20th, the Saturday night we sat outside together after dinner. That was the night I witnessed Bob being “taken” to her world; when he witnessed part of the final ceremony in honor of the multiple marriages that had taken place. Also, the night he spilled his coffee without knowing it (my TV just switched back on again… I haven’t stopped typing, the TV is just doing that by itself — ‘My Name is Earl’, is what is playing). Along with this vision, Bob also got a strong message from Nuttah – “I need you to do that again, both of you, sitting outside like that — do it tonight”. That was the clear message.

But we didn’t do it. We’ve been pretty busy with flood details, insurance claims, and all the usual business of life, and we just didn’t have a chance to sit outside Saturday night. But we thought about it, and we talked about it, and for some reason, I also think that there was part of Bob that didn’t want to. Kind of a trepidation, it seemed like. On my part too. I think that we both sensed that something might happen. But then the next day, Bob got a message that she was disappointed that we didn’t “show up”.

But getting back to the antler. I studied this object, and I had some doubts about what kind of antler it might actually be. Deer? Moose? Something else? It didn’t really have the smooth, brown (and thin) quality of a deer antler, but I guess it could have been pretty old, or bleached by sun, or eroded by water, or all of the above. I went on the internet to look at antlers, not because I don’t know what deer antlers look like, but just to see if I could maybe find some that resembled this one. It did occur to me that perhaps this might be from “her era”. Most that I found online did not really look like this one, with a single exception. And that was a carving that I found, and coincidentally, it is also a carving of a Native American design. I’ve included a picture of it below. I am not sure of the meaning of the antler that was left for us, but it does seem as if Nuttah is involved, and Bob gets that sense too. However, he is pretty certain that it is NOT the object that the flood uncovered.

An example of a carved antler obtained from the internet

September 6, 2011

Event #247: Tuesday night, Sept. 6, 2011

Unhappy, quarantined, seemingly NOT-rabid "OIN".

Again, tonight, we are expecting high water. This is getting SO old. There was more preparation; Bob installed some pumps, we moved the cars again up a high hill, I put the outside cat upstairs (remember rabid cat OIN! – bears inserting another picture):
The basement and the other rooms are still basically the way we prepared them for Irene, so there was not nearly the same preparation needed this time. Thank goodness, because it is so exhausting. When I got home from work, it wasn’t raining anymore, but the creek was scarily high, as it had rained all day. I knew it would only take about another inch or 2 of rain to push it over the wall. And it still might happen… rain is supposed to start up again soon. Bob is sleeping, I don’t know how, because I am not sure that I will be able to. I may have to at least try.

Nuttah places this arrangement on my table - hopefully it is to say that "All will be fine"

But one thing I would like to mention is that when I went upstairs to change, I noticed my character had been moved to my bedside table, and sits there looking at the bed next to Nuttah’s character, and with a couple of hearts in front of “us”, pointing at the bed. I will add a picture to this post in the morning. Also, Bob’s stone has been moved to the center of his clock-radio. I hope that this is Nuttah’s way of saying that all will be okay tonight. The township just dropped off road-closure barricades in front of our house. I think that means they are expecting it to be bad. I can’t look at the current creek level and disagree, I say as I hear the rain picking up outside.

Below is a gauge forecast from along the Delaware River. It is projected in a couple of days to rise into what they consider the “Major” Flood stage. That basically means that big parts of that area are under water. This is worse than what was projected during Hurricane Irene: