Two days ago, the city of Toronto got the worst flood it's ever been hit with in recorded history. A sudden brutal storm hit and two hours later people's basements were full of water and their cars were floating away. Power failures, stranded GO train, rescues by canoe (good freakin thing it's Canada and there's always a canoe nearby??) and some of the most congested roads in all of North America locked up solid... except for all that pesky water up to the car windows.
A good solid two hour drive down the highway from the big city, out here in farm country, the kids and I had gone out that afternoon for Bucky's birthday. (He's 17 now and darn near 6 ft tall, and sounds like a man, maaaaaan.) When we left the farm it was bright sunny and hot. On our way home a couple hours later we discussed all the things getting rained on at that moment including laundry and open windows. Inconveniences in the grand scheme of things, it turns out.
Our studio is in North York. I kind of held my breath as the alarming news reports came in, hoping we'd be spared as it looked like most of the really bad stuff wash happening further south, towards the lake, but then feeling awful for everybody there affected by it. Nobody deserves this.
At 9:00 pm I sent him a message. Just on my way in from the barn. So - state of emergency??? Flood???
Well, he and Billy Ray Joe had been out looking for a place that had electricity and something to eat, but already the storm was impacting our clients: Won't know until I get back to the studio. Nancy's $60K piano is ruined... Matt had 8' (and rising) of water in his basement as of 6 pm...
The power had gone out by the time he got back to the studio at about 10:00. By the next morning, the power was back up and everything functioning, but...the entire rest of his week had been cancelled. Every session. All of our clients need to spend the rest of the week salvaging whatever is left after the flood damage.
I try to keep working through the weather. If it rains, I give people the option of spending their lesson time in the tack room, learning about things we don't always take time to get into when it's a nice day and we want to get out and ride. But my work is ultimately affected by what's going on in the sky. I only had four lessons booked at the beginning of this week (which would be awesome if this was January!!) and I've only booked one more since, and cancelled one. So it turns out both of us are going to have a sparse week, and this is a bad week to not make much money.
But man. Wow. What's my problem? It's really humid and most of my leather tack gets moldy? The basement of the house is really wet? Half the corral is gross brown puddles and sticky mud? The buildings are still standing, and none of our sentimental irreplaceable treasures are ruined.
Maybe it's a good week for him to make contacts and drum up some business, and me to clean tack and write fiction!
But it sucks. None of us can control nature. None of us. That's just the way it is.