IT AIN'T OVER 'TIL IT'S OVER

Most of the emergency response crews and volunteers have gone home or moved on. Houses have been emptied of wet muck and debris. We're no longer seeing those eerie black semi-trailer combos traveling up and down the highway in front of our house all day, every day. Things must be getting back to normal here in poor little Wimberley, right? Well no, not really. For many, the real work is just beginning.

You probably don't remember, but when I first moved here to Wimberley on my own, ahead of John, Fiber Woman's friend Jean offered to host a little watercolor workshop at her home, for anyone who was interested. I was more than a tad nervous, since I had never really painted, but it ended up being a total blast! Well, Jean barely got out of her house in time when the wall of water hit, thanks to some teenagers who happened to be outside late, saw the water coming, and woke the neighborhood up by pounding on all their doors.  Jean is considered one of the "lucky" ones, though she's probably not feeling it just now.

Fiber Woman wears her Ninja dust-protection ensemble.

Her house is structurally sound, so it didn't have to be razed, but it did have to be stripped down to the bare bones. Every bit of it is coated in a layer of flood muck, which has turned cement-like and must be chipped and scraped and sanded before new sheetrock can be installed.  Yesterday the Muses and I went by to lend a hand. Fiber Woman cleaned out windowsills and electrical outlets, while I cleaned off light fixtures and salvaged trinkets. Outdoor Woman was out in the shed trying to salvage important papers.

Jean's sweet next door neighbor, on the far right above, happens to be a wonderful cook. She's made it her mission to feed her neighbors, and dropped off a fabulous lunch for us all.  Her family's full-time home is down on the coast, in Hurricane Alley. They bought this one to be their safe haven, whenever they have to flee hurricanes. Turns out it wasn't so safe after all.

There used to be a row of houses there in that clearing behind Jean's house, and a row of houses across the street from her. All gone now, every last one, but somehow hers and her next door neighbors' managed to survive.  There used to be fences separating each house. Those are gone now too, and you know what? They're deciding they kind of like it that way!

After lunch we moved on to toilet duty. Now that I've seen the inside of a flood muck toilet, I will never again complain about cleaning my own.

And, after seeing how much work Jean still has ahead of her, before she can even think about rebuilding, the Muses and I are thinkin' that, instead of meeting for coffee each week, there are probably much better ways to be spending our time. At least, for a while.