Gullywhomper!

We barely missed getting hit by a rather extensive front of thunderstorms a couple of nights ago, but last night, an even bigger front passed through, and our neck of the woods was thoroughly soaked.

Soaked, and then some. At one point, I was took a glance out the window at the street and was surprised to see that the water had risen to the level of the top of the curb! A closer look showed that water was actually being pushed up out of the holes in the manhole cover embedded in the drain in front of our house. As I understood the situation, the areas "upstream" of us in the storm drain system were putting so much runoff into the system that it was not only completely full, but was trying to overflow into areas such as ours.

Thunder was intermittent, but the lightning was almost continuous, as if a bunch of airborne paparazzi had gone nuts and decided to give our street the full-up celebrity treatment—flash-pop-pop-flash-flash-pop, and so on, without letup.

Fortunately, the way houses are set up in our development (and most developments around here), the water still would have to rise by about a foot or so before it started lapping at our slab. And the rain moved on way before that happened.

There were a few rumbles in the sky today, and a few sprinkles, but nothing serious.

Cheers...

Helping out...

Galina and I rose early and arrived at Furr High School in good time to see the organizer of today's "Olympiada of Spoken Russian" (and an acquaintance of ours) juggle some incredible number of issues to get the event under way. Once everyone had received their assignment (Galina was one of the judges for Level 2 Conversation, while I was tagged for Level 2 Civilization), we joined the assembled competitors and their teachers in the school's auditorium.

The part about my being asked to say a few words was no joke. I was preceded at the microphone by the Consul General of the Russian Federation in Houston, Alexander Konstantinovich Zakharov, who (among other remarks) thanked the participants for coming and for studying Russian. The organizer then called upon me to do my part at the microphone, holding me up as the model of a successful translator and interpreter who was born and raised in the United States.

Let me stop for a second and say that I had spent some time yesterday putting together some remarks, taking account of some wise words from halfshellvenus. I thought I had done a pretty good job of it until this morning, when I ran them past my fiercest critic (whose name begins with "Gal" and ends with "ina"), who convinced me to cut out about 50% of my words. In the car on our way to the site, however, I realized that I had actually cut out too much, and mentally reviewed what needed to be put back.

I had intended to deliver my remarks in a seemingly off-the-cuff manner, without referring to any aids outside my memory, but there, sitting in the car, I wondered if I would have the presence of mind to keep everything straight without making a fool of myself. As we parked the car in the school lot, I mentally said Shepard's Prayer and then put the issue out of my mind.

I don't quire remember what exactly I said once I took the microphone, but Galina said afterward she was proud of me, and that I had really done a fine job.

The judging went well. My bailiwick—civilization (in the sense it is used in French class to denote facts related to geography and culture)—required students to speak on one of several topics. The teacher at one school decided her team would—to the last boy and girl—choose the same topic, and the coaching they received was reflected in their high scores.

Generally, pretty much everyone did well, and as concerns the few who came and subjected themselves to a very stressful few minutes to demonstrate an abysmal knowledge of the subject, I must admit I have a certain amount of respect for them, too, because while it's great to put in a great showing, it's also important to simply show up.

Cheers...