So, now that I've swum and walked, I feel free to spend the rest of the day on my ample ass and I will.
I'm watching my parents' town flood in my twitter feed. Mother and Daddy retired to Charleston, SC in 1990. They lived in the historic part of the city center in a really old, but as my Mom used to say, not important architecturally, house. They had a fountain in the courtyard and they commissioned an artist to sculpt a giant copper frog to sit on the side playing the fiddle. It was then made part of the carriage tours that roamed Charleston constantly.
They lived in that house until 1999 when they moved into a posh retirement community on James Island (about 10 minutes from downtown if no one was on the road). And that's where they lived when they died - Daddy in 1999 (yep, 3 months after they moved in) and Mom in 2005.
They loved Charleston. I mean REALLY loved it. They had a biscillion friends and volunteered everywhere and when to all the arts events and every restaurant in town. When they lived downtown, they could walk to everywhere so Daddy could hit the road and drink as much as he wanted and never have to worry about driving. It was his perfect retirement.
And today, it's under water. Very sad. And it must be so frightening for the people who live there. I hope the frog is ok.