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Yes the water’s rising. To some, it’s old hat.

“Is it raining?”

That is what most folks ask me when I get a phone call from someone living somewhat of a distance from where I live. Yesterday it was a guy in the District of Columbia. Today it was a man in Dallas.

If you have been watching the news in the United States during the past couple of weeks you will see that Texas has had some trophy raining.

It began with the flash flooding in the “Hill Country” of Central Texas, primarily around San Marcos, Wimberley and other areas between Austin or San Antonio. Hays County, where San Marcos and Wimberley is located, really took a pounding. Houston, another low-level city was flooded. Then it was Dallas’ turn. Two of the 10 largest cities in the U.S. waterlogged.

In actuality, the flooding has seemingly settled into the area where I live — in Southeast Texas — for more than a month.

Areas of the Sabine River, south of Deweyville in Newton County, has hung on the precipice of flooding for some time. The area I am referring to has an elevation that would struggle to make 10 feet. Many of the residents see this as just a part of living on the river.

Some times are worse than others though. Recently, the Sabine River Authority has had to let loose some of that mass of water that is kept by Toledo Bend Dam. The dam, like the river, separates the Texas-Louisiana border. The dam is located about 100 miles north of Deweyville and Indian Lake. Both the dam and “greater” Deweyville are located in Newton County. Across the river bank are Beauregard and Calcasieu parishes in Louisiana.

Although the river authority reports that it has “cut back” on water releases, the equivalent of 12,474,852 gallons of water per minute are flowing downstream to regulate the elevation of the largest man-made lake in the south and the fifth largest in the United States.

Local television reports that folks around the area below Deweyville are taking it all in stride. They’ve seen it all before. Some people think the people who live just off the river bank are a little on the insane side. But, be it ever so humble …

Hell, if the water keeps rising they’ll ride their roofs downstream if they have to do so. How high’s the water mama? Well, the present forecast calls for the river to crest tonight in Deweyville. But if it keeps raining, we’ll find out high the water really will be in south Newton County.

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They say it’s our birthday. Well, just missed it.

Our fair blog quietly celebrated 10 years of existence on Tuesday, April 21. Happy B-day!

All this, meaning eightfeetdeep, started as something to entertain myself as well as a daily writing exercise. This was while I was on unemployment from my last full-time job. I had worked as a newspaper reporter, columnist and editor for the previous 15 years at five different Texas newspapers (One doesn’t count.) I had kind of tentatively planned to try my hand at freelancing by the time I was 50 years old. As it turned out I was about six months ahead of schedule.

I have kept up with turning out a daily blog for most of the past 10 years. However, I also have worked a decent-paying part-time job for about seven of those years. During the last year or so as I was given a steady dose of 32-hours a week, as well as serving free now for a few years as a regional vice president of my union local. Consequently, my output slowed down. The same can be said of my paying freelance jobs.

For a couple of years I made money as a freelance journalist. When I say “I made” money, I don’t mean I came out ahead. Neither did I “make” money, as in printing up my own $20-bills. Now what made me think of that? Uh, nothing Secret Service Special Agent Whatshisname.

All of the previous happened as I have become older and developed a few health problems, diabetes the most serious one. I really have improved my health as for Type II diabetes, my A1C falling on a downward trend to 7.1. I also had surgery on my toe Tuesday that was spurred by my diabetes. I developed a ulcer on my left second toe and it never healed completely. So my podiatrist suggested about a month ago that he do hammertoe surgery on that toe in order to keep from striking the injured toe and in doing so allowing my toe to “all hang out” so to speak.

I have a bandage on my foot that I was told to stay off of except for going to the bathroom or kitchen. I have had to do a bit more than that, though carefully, because I am a (confirmed or unconfirmed, I’m not quite sure which one) bachelor.

So, I don’t know what my toe is doing, if anything, and will not know until Doc unwraps it on Monday.

I have tried mostly through using my blog name as my identity to, not shield it, but to not necessarily expose it. I certainly am fooling nobody because so many of my stories have been spread among folks I know, who at the very least, can put two plus two together gets something between three and five.

This past decade has exposed me to some very interesting experiences. Some — like Hurricanes Rita and Ike — were exciting. Others, like living in my truck for about a month at one time, and losing two brothers last year were sad. Those hurricanes were a source of income for awhile, as I freelanced for a major metropolitan newspaper. I freelanced in suburbia for about six months as well while staying in the Dallas area with a friend.

I am in the beginning stages of gathering then culling some of my favorite posts over the last 10 years and, most likely, adding to them for a book. Whether it will be hardcover, e-book, or body art, I don’t know. I need a publisher. If you are a publisher and are not trying to scam me — I will check you out scrupulously — send me an e-mail to the address on the blog.

Looking at my Statcounter stats, I am pleased to see I still get an average of 20 page views per day. Only one or two are return visits, but that is understandable due to my recent lack of output. Most recently, those page views came from the United States and 20 other countries including Iran, Russia, Mexico, Vietnam and, oh, Canada.

By the way, the name, “eightfeetdeep,” yes, it did come in part from the HBO series “Six Feet Under.” I decided not to go along with convention by saying why six feet when you can go eightfeetdeep?

I have thought at times trying to make money through a blog, not especially this one. I do still take donations. But I don’t know what’s to come in the future. I certainly never planned on blogging for 10 years.

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Thinking of clothing fit for males, chickens and dogs

The near constant drizzle that we have had for the last week, or so, it seems, has ended. It is still colder than a well-digger’s … pocket warmers. I must always qualify that remark. I am up at the top of the northern Texas coast. The temperature is 49 F with a stiff 15-mph North wind making the windchill seem about six degrees cooler. The relative humidity is 86 percent. I’m sure that adds something to the misery.

Normally, I’m a rainy-day type of guy. But sometimes enough is enough. More so especially when it is chilly.

With six pockets full of even more qualifications I fully realize I have friends across the U.S. where it is even colder. It is 33 F with a 40 percent chance of snow tonight for my friend Sally in western Massachusetts. It’s in the 20s and 30s all week with a chance of snow toward the end of the week in Anchorage, Alaska, residence of my friend Elizabeth. Still, while friends from the cold places in the states like to kid us about what we believe to be “cold” weather here in Texas, most would prefer their own cold hometowns to ours.

One plus about down South juking is you don’t have to buy a lot of different clothes. I say you don’t have to. That doesn’t mean you won’t. I find myself shopping in clothing stores for fairly inexpensive coats though I don’t know if such a creature exists during the winter months. I have a windbreaker that is acceptable for about 60 percent of cold weather. For about 20 percent I have a coat I bought back in 2005 while I was out on a reporting assignment and a big chill quickly arrived. It is a very warm coat, nothing fancy. It has a hood. When I used to walk every day no matter what, I would wear the coat and a warmup suit underneath on very cold mornings. I wore a knit cap covering my head and my ears and my hood was tied close. I used to laugh because I reminded myself of Kenny McCormick, the often-killed, insensible sounding kid from the adult cartoon “South Park.” As for the remaining cool weather wear I have a brown tan Gary Player front zip jacket. It goes with about 3/4 of my “bidness casual wear.”

But just as women seem never to have enough shoes so do I never seem to have enough clothes and especially jackets. That is ridiculous of course, I see no reason to spend tons of money on something I may only wear once or twice a year. This is not a “layers” kind of place where I live. Most of my shirts are short sleeve Polo-style shirts.

Until I began my present “part-time (32-hour/week) job” almost eight years ago, most of my pants were shorts.

I have always thought that if I won millions in the lottery that I would buy bunches of clothes. I feel it would be practical because I would definitely go on a successful diet and need to buy different sizes until I got to the “just right” size. Plus, I would travel here and there and would need different kinds of wear because of varied climates.

In reality, I need to buy a couple of pair of pants for bidness wear soon because my keys have taken a toll on the sloppy sewing from the pockets to the outside seam I always seem to encounter. Either that, or it will be me sewing them by hand.

So I am and have long been a fairly functional, low-maintenance creature, as far as clothes are concerned. Emotionally low-maintenance is another matter, or so I have been told. Oh well. Most of the time “there is no one in here except us chickens,” as the old saying goes. If I really had chickens, again, I might buy them some diapers or some Depends. Why? Why not? This is the same man who once gave his half-Doberman half-Great Dane a dickie to wear.

In other words, it don’t (sic) mean nothing.

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Flying the skies for better times

This year is about in the books. Were it not for turning 60 next year, I’d say: “Yeah, get it on!” But I think I will need the almost 10 months before hitting that mark to prepare. You know, I’ve been saying: “You’re getting old” for some time. Damned if it isn’t really happening now.

I ruminate over this subject, not in the cud-chewing sense, because this year wasn’t one of the best. Like other years it has had its good parts and bad ones. But these type of things usually balance out. Not so much this year. Up until 2014, for the past nine years, I have pretty well written on this blog something at least once per day on weekdays. That hasn’t been the case this year.

The reasoning is a combination of all the crap that was heaped upon my life, and death. The latter being the double whammy of losing two brothers within two months of each other. A knee injury and the workers compensation system I faced caused an extended length of time in pain waiting for surgery then physical therapy. I still have mobility issues with the knee. I went through the hassle today of attempting to locate a place to tie my shoelace because the knee doesn’t work properly. I also started a steady schedule in my part-time job that is 32 hours per week. That’s almost a real job. Combined with my duties as a regional vice president for my Union local, it actually is more than a full-time job at times.

And on and on. You don’t want to hear my tales of woe and I don’t particularly care to relive them. But this is just my way of saying I want to do more on the blog. Maybe overhaul it a bit. I haven’t added or taken away a bookmark in quite awhile. That changes today.

I am including on my list of bookmarks a link to a site called GlobalAir.com. It is not a political site nor humor nor any of the categories I generally seek out for a read. GlobalAir is a reference site for the aviation world. Why do I care about that? First of all, I find this a site of great potential to search when I need information about aircraft and pilots. I am not a pilot, by the way. I once was a nervous flyer. But during one time during my full-time career as a reporter I was tasked to write about transportation. It happened to be a rich environment because one of our “neighbors” in my newspaper’s area happened to be George W. Bush.

I found myself writing many times about “TFRs,” for Temporary Flight Restrictions, which were least restricted when the President was in Washington and increased to the point that at least two general aviation airports were shut down whenever some high-powered leader came to see “W” at the Crawford ranch. I might just have enough information to write a book of potential pitfalls when a President decides to live in your town or decides to become President while he lives in your town. It’s not exactly a cakewalk.

So, a gentleman from GlobalAir.com introduced me to the site and asked if I would be interested in linking my blog to it. GlobalAir.com appears as if it has a load of useful information for me as a journalist and I can only imagine how helpful the site could be for one who’s livelihood is in aviation.

We are almost to a new year and I’m not 60 until next October. So I am getting an early start to 2015 with hopes of making it much better than the last year. I can’t say adding a link about aviation will do it, but it is is a place to take off.

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A new low speed in political spin

If you are a real fan of politics you might just have a change of temperature when seeing what Florida gubernatorial candidates are squawking over.

A debate between GOP Gov. Rick Scott and Democrat Charlie Crist, the former Florida governor, started about 7 minutes late. But it wasn’t due to a technical glitch. No Scott refused to come about because Crist had a fan blowing on him from below his lectern.

The fan was no stranger to Crist. He wrote in a biography that he had used the cooling appliance for years. As many Floridians probably know, it gets hot there sometimes. After all, its nickname is “The Sunshine State.” And when you are wearing a suit and tie below hot stage lights or in a church that has only a ceiling fan for air conditioner, you might have the tendency to break that famous rule of campaigning: “Never let them see you sweat.”

A Florida TV anchor moderating the debate finally explained the Scott rules for the debate that there should be no fan on the stage. That led to boos from the audience. Then, Crist began mocking such riders.

“Are we really going to debate about a fan or are we going to talk about education and the environment and the future of our state? I mean, really,” Crist responded.

This is what the state of politics passes for these days. It seems like the audience would need a fan of gigantic proportions, more so than the politicians, for all the hot air coming from the candidates.

Of course, the follow-up had the candidates’ flacks spinning faster than the former governor’s fan. Around and around and around we go and where we stop? Well, in this case I suppose it is the Florida statehouse.