I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky; and all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.

- John Masefield

So it is - the Sea of Centralia has parted. We had pretty thoroughly concurred that there was no way we would be passing through Centralia this weekend to visit family in Seattle, but proverbially the rain stopped, the snowplows chugged through the muck on I-5 and (reportedly) the way is cleared. I have to comment that we have been watching the news with some bemusement these past days, especially when the reporter on the screen, standing hip-deep in the roadbed and commenting that the DOT was assuring them that the road would re-open last evening, while at the very same time the news-wire across the bottom reported that DOT said the roads would be closed through the weekend. You would think the news-guys would read the wire, but I suppose they were too busy tracking the salmon that were making headway up the interstate toward Olympia.

Of course, we are not there yet... but we are going to give it a stab. Mom grew up in Centralia, and despite coming down with Scarlet Fever she and Aunt Buddy went paddling around town in a rowboat back in 1918. You have to wonder why people continue to live in the lowlands of Centralia - it is one of those communities where it is no question that it will flood - just a question as to how deep. You'd think they'd at least put their houses up on blocks...it might take a ladder to get to the front door but at least there'd be no Sea-Urchins clinging to the couch. So anyway, Mary, Papi and I will venture off tomorrow toward Seattle; the Sea has parted for us, I have to guess it is a sign.