[We're fine in my neighborhood - the flooding happened Northwest of here]
Maybe you've seen some of the stories or photos already? Over seventeen inches of rain fell within a few hours on Marble Falls, NW of Austin, with flood waters engulfing other Central Texas towns like Smithwick and Kingsland. Area map, with Austin in the lower right corner.
The flood-tumbled, mangled remains of a vehicle was found today, but the teenagers who were in it are still missing. Residents of that area have lost houses, property, cars and trucks, and one organic chicken farm has lost all their hens. People were rescued from rooftops and the municipal water system isn't working. The parts that need fixing are still under water, so the townfolk are doing the best they can with bottled water.
Mystery writer Susan Albert lives not too far away... she's okay and her house is on high ground, but she had a few adventures with livestock as the storm hit.
Fellow Austin Blogger Mrs Quad has some scary photos of what the water's done.
EXTREMELY LOCAL NEWS
In this little corner of Austin the only drama was recorded in this not-too-clear photo of a 3-inch slug, an unusual shape here. We get lots of those little roundish slugs that look like a kindergardener couldn't find a tissue and used a leaf instead. This particular speciment was heading toward a clematis but did not arrive at that destination.Some of the garden plants have been thrilled with a year's worth of water in just a few months, while others resent it. The peppers, sunflower and Tropical Milkweed/Asclepias curassavica are growing, but could use some sun. The tomatoes look terrible, and most of what fruit remains is fit only for a compost heap.
The City of Portland Cannas, on the other hand, surrounded below by Salvia guaranitica, are looking fine, without the usual crispy edges seen in drier years.
I've been growing the lime green and purple potato vines for a decade, valuing their cascading foliage in hanging baskets.
In all that time none ever bloomed - but this purple one produced flowers! Is it a result of our eighties instead of nineties with everyday rain?
Here's the Clematis viticella, rescued from the awesome slug, making another flurry of buds and blooms. The pale blue flowers at its base are a Plumbago, a plant that throws lanky branches up to 4-feet high by mid-fall, and sometimes makes it through a NW Austin winter. This spring it was killed to a couple of inches in height, so it wasn't blooming when the clematis was scanned in April.
The big weedy looking leaves at the lower right belong to a big weedy Brugmansia AKA Angel's trumpet. It's supposed to be yellow and fragrant. It's never bloomed, in spite of water, fertilizer, great soil and what should be a perfect location with morning sun and protection from the hot afternoon sun.
The paint on the green loveseat from the previous post was fresh when the rain began so we put it in the shed to let it cure. Any guesses on when the new garden furniture gets into the garden? Storms are in the forecast through the 4th and the weather radio goes off a few times each day, warning us of flash flood danger.
One of the quirky Austin places we've loved is the downtown location of the Alamo Drafthouse, the original nucleus of the burgeoining Alamo Drafthouse group. Food and drink accompanied a movie- the movie could be something new and weird or old and cult-oriented, or even a silent movie. We've watched Buster Keaton in The General and Louise Brooks in Pandora's Box up the screen, while musicians Guy Forsyth and Graham Reynolds played music specially composed for the movie. We've been there quite often when the Austin Film Society screened Essential Cinema. On the Tuesday night just passed we went to the Alamo Downtown, watched a truly extraordinary British Science fiction movie from 1961, The Day The Earth Caught Fire, and drank a last toast to this particular Alamo. Wednesday night was the big final party before the Alamo moves to a new location on 6th Street. This wonderful place will be no longer be quite the same, but the concept and the proprietors will still be here, and the memories have been blogged for posterity.