A fellow coworker, and drainage engineer, told me that snow-packs are at 140% on the mountain - that's more snow packed up there than there was in the 80's. 1983 was a bad year for flooding, which is the year I was born, that's how I remember that.
The Barlows who live down by Utah lake told me that their farmer neighbors said that there is a 30 year pattern in weather and seasons. So I guess we are right on time.
I've been practicing my sand-bagging skills.
I think if the gully flooded and washed away all the houses on "California Ave" it would be a good welcome for the returning Sam this summer - who hated that they subdivided that land. (if you live on that street and read my blog - don't take it personally, you didn't know you were building on hallowed land).
Here's a few cell phone pictures taken from last evenings walk with mom and Andie, after our cinco de mayo dinner, looking for golf balls:
We found a rock wanting to be a robot, so we helped it out:
our old leather chair - which Sam brought down to sit in, at his fort:
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