Sometimes I don't know what to tell you about. There is so much, and yet so little. I've even stopped putting all the gritty details of my day in emails to Mr. TroutBend. He's probably grateful. Sometimes I think it's important to tell him everything in case something happens to me so he'll know, but he's a man of few words and appreciates conciseness, although he doesn't always get it.

It is warmish outside today, with winds light and variable, bringing us snow tomorrow, maybe up to 4 inches. The equipment guys were supposed to come today and finish my road up to the bridge, but they didn't show up. It was 65 degrees, a beautiful day to do road work. They would have finished Friday except it snowed 4 inches. Tomorrow we are supposed to get 2 - 4 inches of snow, so hard to say when they will be able to finish the work.

We are only two days away from the six month anniversary of our big flood. People out of state have asked me: 'when I get there, will I see devastation?' I have to think a moment to answer, because so much has been accomplished: roads rebuilt, severely eroded banks filled with dirt and rocks, wrecked houses torn down and hauled off. But we still have wrecked houses, huge landslides, and large debris piles to be dealt with.

There are weak places along the river that might not survive this spring's snowmelt runoff, and heavy equipment is working up and down the canyon to fortify them. Yesterday I was quoted in the local paper saying something about how we don't know when they are going to stop helping us, meaning that since nobody tells us their plans, we don't know when they are going to suddenly disappear and what we will be left to do for ourselves. But since the quote was just the first of that sentence, I worry that it sounds ungrateful, as if I wish they'd go away and leave us alone.

One reason it's puzzling for us is that from the day of the flood, government agencies told us via the news media that nobody is going to help us fix the river: it's all up to us. And then they have proceeded to wade in and fix most of it.

Of course we are grateful, but it's like my bridge repair. Without notice, one day the county crew showed up and restored the rails on the sides of my bridge. Had it been up to me, I would have asked them to wait until we had a chance to complete the restoration work on the riverbank next to my dining room and my yard. Some of the equipment required is too wide to pass between these rails, and we might have to remove them temporarily to get the work done.

Our post office at Drake was heavily damaged in the flood, and it finally opened today, just in time, because the 6 month forwarding orders expire automatically around March 15 - 20. Some of us brought cookies so it has a festive air. One guy was disappointed that he wasn't the first to mail a letter. I told him they gave a free car to that first person, sorry he missed it.

Saturday I attended two flood-related meetings in towns 30 miles apart. I always learn a lot at these things. The second one was an open house sponsored by the county, and I met a lot of people I have corresponded with, including the CDOT guy who used to email back and forth with me, but then started ignoring me. I'm not sure why, but it was nice to get the bit of help I got from him while I did, so I didn't bring that up.

Tonight I could go to a spring runoff meeting for another river. I'm sure I would learn a lot because it is a different county putting it on. Our county seems so hesitant to tell us anything. OR, I can go to a presentation about insect pests that affect our trees put on by the garden club. The location of the pest meeting is much closer, and I'm thinking I'll go to that, partly because it will be a vacation from hearing about flood recovery issues.