How dry I am . . .

Our  length of the Mississippi has been slowly creeping over its banks since the beginning of last month.

Remember that baseball game I went to a few weeks ago?

The stadium is now an island:

This was taken from the bridge in the upper corner of the first photo, by a friend who is far more intrepid than I (thanks, Amy D!).

She took this one from the stadium walkway—instead of cancelling or moving the games, they’ve put up a series of gangplanks:

It looks like the river’s going to crest about five-and-a-half feet over flood level, which is great news, considering we were preparing for an epic flood—most of us have been filling sandbags and building barriers for the past ten weeks.  But this isn’t even in our top five.

Honestly, it’s mostly a rush hour annoyance, as some of the riverside streets and a few bridge on-ramps are closed.  But no businesses or homes have been damaged, our power and water supply are safe, and no one is being evacuated.  If the weather holds upstream, this could be it.

Plus, the river has to rise another twenty-two feet to hit the library and if it ever reached our house, half the state of Illinois would be in serious trouble.

So we’re good.

Damp, but good.