This past Sunday marked the pinnacle of a perfect storm. Existing snow, combined with torrential rain, has spawned extreme flooding conditions. One house in Sunderland exemplifies the state of the area.
This house stands wobbly on South Silver Lane, just before the shore of the Connecticut River. It's inhabitants include a folk song singing bigfoot, a gallant rider of stallions, the soul of the dancing canis major, an orphaned Martian scholar, and a purveyor of lands. All of the house's inhabitants possess their differing individual backgrounds and characteristics. Still, they find common ground in activities such as cattle prancing and underground racing.
They found more common ground this Saturday, when the lake across from their home jumped its barrier. Thousands of gallons of rain and melted snow swashed in around their home. Soon, the soul of the dancing canis major alerted the others that their basement was flooding.
These fellows hadn't a choice but to band together under a common purpose, using whatever they could to remove the water. One scooped water with an old guitar. Another vacuumed, sending gallon by gallon through a series of connected paper towel rolls which acted as an extension long enough to take water up the stairs and off the back porch. Another tossed scoops of water rapidly out the window using his hands. And another disintegrated water droplets by the dozen with his mind. Surreal Times writer Dernberger Spengleton also aided to the best of his abilities with this mission, as did weatherman Weather-J.
It was, if nothing else, a tremendous bonding experience. Unfortunately, despite these individuals' collectively multitudinous, extravagant, and powerful skillset -- they were unable to combat the flood.
But, as the mysterious "they" always says: "if you can't beat 'em, join em!" -which is exactly what this crew did without a moment of hesitance; they enthusiastically pivoted their feet, twirled much like dancers, and in one swoop fortified their cellar walls --- not for the purpose of keeping water out, but instead, to retain the water that they had so fortunately gained, and which had been so miraculously heated automatically by their basement's hot water heater.
As I write, these fellows are charging admissions to their basement rebranded as a hot tub pool. They are transforming their garage into a sauna also. And they are attracting customers from far and wide to listen to their music while enjoying their spa. They are attracting so many customers, in fact, that they have been able to declare themselves a conglomeration. Furthermore; with their good hearts and deepened pockets, they have begun allowing bigfoots and ancestors of bigfoots to bathe in their home free of charge.
An inspiring story.
Post script: I have been informed of a change to the policy of the South Silver Conglomeration -- about which I am unsure of my sentiment. From this point forward, unfaithful or non-practicing bigfoots are forbidden from South Silver Sauna and Bath (SSSB).