December in this part of the world is unpredictable. I've lived in the Algonquin Valley for over all of my life (minus the eternal two years I spent in southeast Asia) and I can't remember being able to predict when the first lake effect snows would hit or how many mild days we'd have. We tend to flood in the fall and spring hereabouts. The dam that FDR built in the 1930s pretty much kept the valley from becoming a giant lake every spring which lead to a lot of development -- farms and mills and such -- through til this last big depression. Since things broke down, the dam has all but given up the ghost. We had the sense to open the overflow and the pressure valves, but that just brings more water when the Forsythe and Algonquin rivers try to run the snowmelt and rains off the mountains to the north.
I used to live with my wife down on Main Street in Wishwell. That's about 5 miles from where I live now. That part of Main Street avoided the fires, but ended up getting flooded, then collapsed in one of the fifty storms we've had in the last year since the eaters took over. It was a nice little brownstone where my childhood dentist used to live. My original WRAG studio was set up there in 1976 in the exam room. When people started getting the hell out of town and the eaters started squatting, I moved my remote equipment up the mountain to my family hunting cabin and transmitter center. It's up a steep grade and fenced off. Eaters can't get me and most folks can't find me. Ironically, if people stumble on me from a direction I can't monitor, the eaters along the fences will get them.
Go I live here on God's own acre, looking out over the valley and playing records to the few people in a 100 mile radius who are alive and have a powered AM radio.
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