A couple months ago, I put all of my travel information in a box in the basement. These were books I'd gotten about places like Machu Picchu, Hearst Castle, Dublin, and Stonehenge. There were maps and pamphlets I'd picked up, postcards of notable sights, and itinerary information. And special little things like calligraphy practice I did in China, and my ticket to the Ghibli Museum. It was nice to have it all on one location.
Then I had to shift some stuff around in the basement, and I put the box on the floor. And after a heavy rain, the basement flooded. I wasn't worried. They were in a sturdy plastic box. It was only when I picked it up that I noticed that the inside looked funny. And with horror, I saw the crack in the bottom of the box. Cursing, I hauled the heavy box out and tried to pull out one of the books. Everything was bloated and soaked, and it was difficult to get the first book out. Everything was sodden. I spent the whole morning desperately peeling pages apart. And then I had to restack most of them because there wasn't enough room to spread everything out. I had to leave for most of the day, and finish when I got home. Pages and books are spread out through four rooms in the house, including the laundry line.
My itinerary from China completely bled through. My prettiest book from my Europe trip ended up with all of the beautiful images peeling off onto the adjacent page. Despite being as careful as I could, many of the damp books and maps tore.
I spread things out as much as possible, but many are still at the bottom of soggy stacks. But those papers wills till dry faster than my stack of crinkled books.
It's been a stressful day.
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