The calm between the storms

Saturday night turned out to be a bit wilder than I bargained for. All my brave talk about walking into town despite the storm left me soaked to the skin. Oh, I was carrying my big-ass umbrella, but with the wind blowing the rain sideways, it didn’t provide much protection. Well, it’s only water, but as I trudged along, I couldn’t remember a time when I had walked in a rainstorm this powerful.

I was tempted to stop in the first open venue to get out of the rain, but once I was wet, I refused to let my spirit be dampened, so I continued on to my intended destination, It Doesn’t Matter. When I first arrived, I greeted manager Ashley and observed a larger group at the outside seating than usual. There was an open table, but before I could sit down, a rain squall blew in, and the guys sitting on the perimeter retreated to the space I had intended to occupy. Ashley offered me her seat at a crowded table of strangers, but I just wasn’t feeling it, so I said goodbye and left.

Later that evening, Ashley posted this photo of the flood waters that had found their way inside It Doesn’t Matter. Glad I missed it!

Meanwhile, I decided to grab some food. I hadn’t been to John’s place for a while, so I weathered the storm as I struggled on up the highway. Once you are wet, what difference does it make?

My reward for enduring was this pulled pork sandwich.

Whilst I dined, I got a message from Joy asking if I had dinner. I told her I was eating now and asked if she had eaten yet. She said she hadn’t, so I asked what she wanted. “Chicken wings.” What kind? ” “Korean style.” WTF? I asked her how she knew I was at John’s place. “I know you.” Damn, and there is a fine example of Filipina radar. Freaky! I ordered the wings and delivered them across the street to Hideaway.

I had a couple of beers there, then saw what appeared to be a break in the storm, so I headed out. It turned out it was a brief lull, and I hadn’t gone far before buckets of water were once again falling from the sky. To make matters worse, large puddles had formed on the shoulder of the highway. And if that weren’t bad enough, passing cars would sometimes splash water on me. I got as far as Cheap Charlies, then said fuck it and climbed the stairs to the bar.

Foolish me. Cheap Charlies is an open-air bar, and it wasn’t long before the wind-blown rain was reining down on me. [Grammarly says I can’t use “reining down” in this context. I beg to differ. It’s kind of punny, and it makes sense to me to use it that way. Sue me if I’m wrong.] I moved further inside and finished my beer, but what’s the point of a bar like this if you can’t enjoy the view? A bar like Wet Spot seemed more appropriate for this kind of weather (and is aptly named), so I headed over there.

It was a good call. Much more comfortable inside on a wet night, plus I had the pleasure of a nice chat with owner Dave. A couple more beers, then went home at the appointed hour for a smoothie, and then sleep.

It rained throughout the night and well into the morning hours. Lots of Facebook posts this morning from people suffering from flooded houses.

I didn’t see this alert, but I can attest it was not an exaggeration.

Before I moved here, I had looked at some houses in the Santa Monica subdivision as possible future residences. Some locals warned me not to do so because of flooding.

It appears I made the right call.

About the time I finished my dog walk this morning, the rain had finally eased up to a light sprinkle. And then as I headed off to see Swan for my morning coffee, I saw this:

Well, I’ll be damned. It had been a week since I had seen something like that!
I brought banana-walnut muffins for Swan to enjoy with her coffee. I really kneed that girl!
The enhanced patio view this morning.

In celebration of the better weather, I took a solo Sunday stroll. I confined myself to the streets of Barretto, though.

Leaving the ‘hood. The flooding was gone, but the mud stuck around. A slippery pain in the ass to get through.
A landslide on Abra Street took out a telephone pole. There used to be a path there we’d sometimes take up to the top of the hill. It looks like that won’t be happening again anytime soon.
Rizal Street is now the Rizal River.
And that creek that runs through Columban must have really been raging to push those logs and debris into the street.
I started at Swan’s and finished at Sit-n-Bull, a tad over 6K.
I rewarded my effort with this roast beef dip sandwich and a side of slaw.

So far the weather is holding steady.

Here is how it looks out my back door at the moment.
But the forecast for the rest of the day and the coming week is not so optimistic.
Typhoon Falcon will be stirring shit up as it passes nearby.

Oh well, whether that happens or not depends on the weather. (Sorry)

On a lighter note, imagine if Barbie were a Filipina bargirl:

No money, no honey.

And in my never ceasing effort to be punctual, I’ll leave you this:

Damn you, comma!

3 thoughts on “The calm between the storms

  1. Damn, that’s a lot of rain. I think the monsoon here is starting to wind down. We’re getting a ton of heat warnings instead of flood warnings.

    There is no phrasal verb “rein down,” so that’s what Grammarly is picking up on. I’m not even sure as to what pun you were going for. And why are you still using Grammarly, again?

    A person in the PI really does have to consider terrain when deciding where to move. If you live down low, you may have to dig deep flood trenches to keep the water out of your property, but from what I’ve seen, no one seems willing to make that effort. The only real alternative is to live up high somewhere.

    Water, water everywhere.

  2. Looks as though I spoke too soon. We’ve had heavy rain and rain warnings all day today. Mother Nature’s not done with us, either.

  3. Well, the pun I was trying for was the play on raining and reining. I didn’t mean to imply that it worked. I already bought and paid for a year of Grammarly Premium, and it automatically offers suggestions almost everywhere I write. I ignore a lot of them, but it does remind me at least to pay attention to my words and punctuation.

    The rainy season here lasts from June to October and features typhoons, monsoons, and tropical storms with heavy rains. I’ve been amazed that the infrastructure has not been designed to deal with this annual phenomenon. During my five years here, I’ve seen several major drainage projects, but none seem to help much, and some have made it worse. The flooding last night was triggered by a combination of downpours and high tide–the river couldn’t empty into the bay, so it backed up and flowed into the streets. I’m indeed blessed to live above it all!

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