Water : Pronunciation: \ˈwȯ-tər, ˈwä-\
Function: noun
Usage: often attributive
Etymology: Middle English, from Old English wæter; akin to Old High German wazzar water, Greek hydōr, Latin unda wave
Date: before 12th century (oh, that just figures)
1 a: the liquid that descends from the clouds as rain, forms streams, lakes, and seas, and is a major constituent of all living matter and that when pure is an odorless, tasteless, very slightly compressible liquid oxide of hydrogen H2O which appears bluish in thick layers, freezes at 0° C and boils at 100° C, has a maximum density at 4° C and a high specific heat, is feebly ionized to hydrogen and hydroxyl ions, and is a poor conductor of electricity and a good solvent b: a natural mineral water —usually used in plural
2: a particular quantity or body of water: as a (1)plural : the water occupying or flowing in a particular bed (2)chiefly British : LAKE, POND b: a quantity or depth of water adequate for some purpose (as navigation) cplural (1): a band of seawater abutting on the land of a particular sovereignty and under the control of that sovereignty (2): the sea of a particular part of the earth d: WATER SUPPLY
3: travel or transportation on water
4: the level of water at a particular state of the tide : TIDE
5: liquid containing or resembling water: as a (1): a pharmaceutical or cosmetic preparation made with water
6: the wet stuff all over my basement creating this strange, unwanted indoor wading pool.
Granted, it’s not the Mississippi or Ohio or any other river overflowing their banks to create a massive flood. It’s just this odd geyser spouting up from the seam where the floor meets the wall…about a foot away from my desk.
Now mind you, I grew up on Lake Erie and normally love the water. Just not in my basement, not while I’m over deadline and so totally NOT next to my desk.
I’m told, with little sympathy I might add, that well, when it dumps 5+ inches of rain in a couple hours it has to go somewhere. Uh, ok, sure, how about anywhere except my basement—or as I like to call it, my office. Did I mention I’m over deadline? What does that mean? Well, it means that 200+ pages of wip are spread all over the place — including the floor, along with all the notes and research tomes.
In looking around the US for somewhere real kewl to move to, I’ve decided that it’s going to be nowhere near water. No place that floods. No place with hurricanes (the water thing). I would rather brave a tornado (been there, done that) than to ever have to deal with unrelenting, non-stopping water again.
It really doesn’t stop. You put down something to block it up and in a short while the darn stuff finds a way under, around or…over. I can’t think of anything more unrelenting than water at the moment. And while a drive around town this afternoon (to get the h*ll away from the house for a few) showed me that I got off easy – I lost count of the people who had hoses pumping water out of their houses – it didn’t help the disgust. Just plain old, I’ve had it disgust.
My sister’s furnace and water heater got nailed good. My parents, who live on 3 acres of land are currently residing on what looks like an island in the middle of farm country – let’s not even talk about the corn and soybean fields. So, I’m obviously not alone.
Since I only lost material items (as in fabric, paper and/or cardboard type stuff) I’m grateful for that, but I so feel for the flood victims of recent and past days. It’s hard for me to even imagine their sense of loss and perhaps disgust.
And so, on this 4th of July, I wish you, your family and Americans everywhere, safety, continued freedom and clear sunny skies without a trace a rain.
Until next time, take care, be well and stay dry.
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