the big muddy

The Ohio, the Wabash, the Mississippi and the fields of Indiana, Illinois and the bootheel of Missouri were all in flood as I blasted through yesterday. Rain, traffic, construction and rubbernecking made it a slow trip. I was, of course, concerned that the Eleven Point River might be flooding too, in which case my Goose was cooked.
   When I arrived at the Goose, a strange shadowy figure loomed inside: An almost unrecognizable Bear, who really looks like one now. After my initial terror (not), I was very happy to see that the water was on, the heat was on, the yard was raked and seeded, the house was cleaned, I didn't need to dig for my keys—and, thank fortune, my river, at least, was within its banks.