Last time the weather did this we had to move out of our house for a week. And get the pastor's family sick.
So we're a bit nervous.
The tick tick tick tick of freezing rain is pattering against our living room windows, coating them so thickly with ice that you can't see through them. The radio tells of power outages throughout South Central Iowa...and the storm is moving this way.
Cinnamon and the comforting smell of a woodburning fire fill the inside of our home, warm with reds and greens.
The weather outside is frightful
But the fire is so delightful
And since there's no place to go
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
This song rings so true when you actually have frightful weather. Snug in our home we are protected from the winter elements - giddy with toe curling, book reading, hot-chocolate sipping comfort.
But we still stocked up on water...and toilet paper...and have the oil lamps out. Because we have been here before.
---------------------
In my email this morning:
The NWS in Des Moines has issued an ice storm warning, which is in effect from 6 am to 3 pm cst Saturday.A mix of freezing rain, sleet, and snow will spread into southern and central Iowa Saturday morning, affecting locations along and south of highway 30.
One quarter to one half inch of glaze ice is expected across the warning area, along with sleet accumulations up to one half inch. Significant icing will create very hazardous travel conditions during the day Saturday.
In addition, a southeast wind gusting over 30 mph may down tree limbs and power lines that are weighed down by ice.An ice storm warning means severe winter weather conditions are expected or occurring. Significant amounts of ice accumulations will make travel dangerous or impossible. Travel is strongly discouraged. Commerce will likely be severely impacted. (oh, look out Target! Christmas sales will be down!!) Ice accumulations and winds will likely lead to snapped power lines and falling tree branches that add to the danger.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Inutition
Growing up, I was always amazed at how mom knew Everything. She knew when I was lying or when I was cold (because she was cold...). Anyhow, now that I am a mom, I too have ears to hear all and eyes in the back of my head. It's a thrilling experience, let me tell you, when they first install that second pair of eyes- OH the sights you'll see!
Anyhoo, I also figured that since I have moved out of the house and a few states away that this instinct of my mother's might wane a bit. She doesn't mention it anymore when I snitch an extra cookie or sneak out of my room to play on the computer after bedtime. But I think secretly, she must know. Because there is this thing she does, and there is simply no other explanation for it.
I live, you know, a ways from the nearest grocery store. You would think that since it takes me 17 hours to reach the nearest Target that I might stock up on extra things like, say, soap or toilet paper. But I don't. I still shop like a city girl who can pop on over to Albertson's for a gallon of milk if need be.
I also must mention that my mom and dad both work for Kimberly Clark - the makers of fine paper products like paper towels, kleenex, and toilet paper. This makes them not only loyal customers of the KC brand, but also prolific gifters of such products. I often get these products as "fillers" in boxes with other gifts (box of candy, shirts for the boys, three rolls of TP) and don't blink an eye- I actually think it's pretty inventive.
Also, each year around Christmas time the company offers these gift boxes that employees can buy and send out to families and friends that contain samples of their products. We look forward to trying out their new stuff, and who could resist free paper towels???
Here's the weird part. EVERY time I have received one of these boxes, it has been on the Last Day of my Last Roll of toilet paper. I think to myself as I watch the last few squares peel off the roll "Oh MAN! Why don't I just buy a bunch to have on hand? Would ht at be so hard, Tracy?" Then, lo and behold, I head out to get the mail and here sits this box of toilet paper.
Warning to all of you who eat an extra slice of pie in your own kitchen after the lights are out: MOM KNOWS. I'm telling you.
Anyhoo, I also figured that since I have moved out of the house and a few states away that this instinct of my mother's might wane a bit. She doesn't mention it anymore when I snitch an extra cookie or sneak out of my room to play on the computer after bedtime. But I think secretly, she must know. Because there is this thing she does, and there is simply no other explanation for it.
I live, you know, a ways from the nearest grocery store. You would think that since it takes me 17 hours to reach the nearest Target that I might stock up on extra things like, say, soap or toilet paper. But I don't. I still shop like a city girl who can pop on over to Albertson's for a gallon of milk if need be.
I also must mention that my mom and dad both work for Kimberly Clark - the makers of fine paper products like paper towels, kleenex, and toilet paper. This makes them not only loyal customers of the KC brand, but also prolific gifters of such products. I often get these products as "fillers" in boxes with other gifts (box of candy, shirts for the boys, three rolls of TP) and don't blink an eye- I actually think it's pretty inventive.
Also, each year around Christmas time the company offers these gift boxes that employees can buy and send out to families and friends that contain samples of their products. We look forward to trying out their new stuff, and who could resist free paper towels???
Here's the weird part. EVERY time I have received one of these boxes, it has been on the Last Day of my Last Roll of toilet paper. I think to myself as I watch the last few squares peel off the roll "Oh MAN! Why don't I just buy a bunch to have on hand? Would ht at be so hard, Tracy?" Then, lo and behold, I head out to get the mail and here sits this box of toilet paper.
Warning to all of you who eat an extra slice of pie in your own kitchen after the lights are out: MOM KNOWS. I'm telling you.
Proposal for Webster's
Anyall (pron. any-all) To calmly and firmly refuse requests of another.
As in: I don't take a nap anyall.
As in: I don't take a bath anyall.
See also: ornery two year old phrases.
Combination of anymore and not at all. A new word via Ryan.
As in: I don't take a nap anyall.
As in: I don't take a bath anyall.
See also: ornery two year old phrases.
Combination of anymore and not at all. A new word via Ryan.
A bit off key, but oh so fun.
One of my favorite things to do with Ryan at this age is go back and forth counting or singing songs or saying the ABCs. I think it is delightful to see how much he actually memorizes when we read stories or learn a song, so I stop and he will just fill in the blanks.
Sometimes this tactic goes a bit haywire, though. Months ago when we first started counting, I would say 1, he would say 2, etc. It was great, except for that he still says his 1-10 as 1 2 4 6 8 10 11...no matter how many times I say ONE TWO THREE! One two FOUR comes out.
But we'll get there. And, this singing thing is just too adorable to let pass without doing a few at bedtime.
Also, while he will sing to me all the time, singing for the camera or for other people (like his dad) is like asking a jellyfish to sit still on a porcupine...so you know I am a bit of a stage mom here, bribing and cajoling so he will be for you like he is for me: adorable two-ness.
Growing Up
Grandma Calli sent this adorable outfit for David. Moms are goofy, because when I got this for him and saw how adorable he was in it, I wondered if I could get away with having him wear this All Week Long. (Don't worry, I didn't.)
The further we go into "2" the harder it is to get a non-blurred picture of Ryan. If you look closely at his shirt, you can see that it is Phil's truck in red carrying a Christmas tree. Another shirt I wanted him to wear the Entire Month.
When I'm not looking...hugs and kisses and nearly head-popping affection. Warms a mamma's heart.
Thanksgiving Day in DesMoines. The boys (5 and 8) played SO well with Ryan. Here, the 8 year old has arranged a fun game for Ryan and himself. The wagon and the sled are tied together, and the 5 year old is straining to pull the other two along. Very crafty, if I do say so myself.Reason #21 to Move to the Country
Neighbors.
Ah, wonderful, beautiful, giving neighbors.
Granted...we have the misfits too. "Those people" that everyone knows about. And they have their factions (Hatfields and McCoys about do it justice).
But there are so many days when small gestures of kindness warm my heart and make me partial to my middle-of-nowhere existence.
I mentioned in a previous post that we bought a corn furnace. The beauty of a corn furnace, as I mentioned, is that all of our neighbors do this farming thing for a living...and as a result have corn. However, as we started on the road to obtaining and storing the grain, we came across a few issues.
(This might bore some of you, but there is a point, I promise.)
The grain bin that we bought (from a neighbor) cost us $75.. But this bin is 14 feet tall. The question became, how do you move 120 bushels of corn from the grain wagon of a farmer into our storage bin?
Five gallon buckets?
Hmm. Not the preferred option. That's a lot of trips up a ladder.
So it was getting colder...and we were running out of our temporary stash of corn that we bought earlier in the season.
Neighbor Mike stopped by one Friday before he left town for the holidays, and asked if we had figured out our corn situation. And no, we hadn't yet. Well, turns out he had been "to town" and checked with the coop for us. He found out delivery prices and the going rate for corn. He had done the fancy math and figured out what it would cost us to get 120 bushels of corn (around $500).
I thanked him for the information and sent him on his way. Half an hour later he drove up with a tall auger (for the rest of the country, an auger is like a big tube that can move corn from one spot (on the ground) to another (in the storage bin).
Surprised, I asked him where he had gotten it. "Oh, just have to turn over a few rocks. You going to be home tomorrow?"
"Sure..."
"Good. Brother Bill (who, in fact is not a brother but another neighbor) will be over around 2 to bring you corn. I will be here and help with getting the auger set up."
Then, in one fell swoop, our neighbors saved us $150 from the coop price Mike had quoted earlier.
As some of you might know, we have gone down to being essentially a one car family. This works just fine for us most days, but there are times where I need to buy groceries or go to the doctor. When this happens, I have to wake the boys up, throw everyone in the car, and drive Phil to work at 6:30am...and then pick him up later in the day after all of my running. While extremely do-able, it does make for a long day.
Before leaving after the corn was delivered, Mike asked if we would mind storing his second car while he left for the winter. Also, he would appreciate it if I drove it often so it didn't freeze up.
"Oh, I think I can handle that." I replied, floored at his generosity and trust.
---------------------------------Soapbox---------------------------------
So, that was the beginning of Thanksgiving week. And all week long, though I missed family and friends, God has so warmed my heart about my circumstances. And I suppose I feel a bit guilty that I am so content, that I am not pulling my hair out over missing people, rather being thankful for where we are.
Because two years ago, Black Friday would have been my all-in-all out of necessity. My three and a half month old boy would have been sleeping whenever I saw him. And my best and first energy would have been given to Target and the people there. Whereas now, I am free to give that to my rambunctious boys and my husband.
I love staying home and curling up the Day After Thanksgiving...no pressure to go and sell Chinese-made toys to people already deeply in debt, all while trying to encourage them to sign up for more credit.
I love seeing my littlest son smile and coo and learn to sit up (wobbly). I love having conversations with my oldest about the imaginary toad on the living room floor that eats jellybeans.
I love that only two years after the hardest Thanksgiving of my life, where I said goodbye to so many loved ones, that my heart can be warmed beyond understanding with the above truths. That our family in Iowa is becoming more real to us, and our friends here are too.
I can't explain it other than to say that when God says he will provide all we need... He means it. And when God says He watches over us even as he watches over a sparrow...He does. And it doesn't always seem like it in the moment. Because we don't always get the answer we want. But day after day and year after year, though we may be unfaithful to Him, He is ALWAYS faithful to us. He knows the desires of my heart- even better than I do, and only after they are fulfilled do I know how true that statement is.
Ah, wonderful, beautiful, giving neighbors.
Granted...we have the misfits too. "Those people" that everyone knows about. And they have their factions (Hatfields and McCoys about do it justice).
But there are so many days when small gestures of kindness warm my heart and make me partial to my middle-of-nowhere existence.
I mentioned in a previous post that we bought a corn furnace. The beauty of a corn furnace, as I mentioned, is that all of our neighbors do this farming thing for a living...and as a result have corn. However, as we started on the road to obtaining and storing the grain, we came across a few issues.
(This might bore some of you, but there is a point, I promise.)
The grain bin that we bought (from a neighbor) cost us $75.. But this bin is 14 feet tall. The question became, how do you move 120 bushels of corn from the grain wagon of a farmer into our storage bin?
Five gallon buckets?
Hmm. Not the preferred option. That's a lot of trips up a ladder.
So it was getting colder...and we were running out of our temporary stash of corn that we bought earlier in the season.
Neighbor Mike stopped by one Friday before he left town for the holidays, and asked if we had figured out our corn situation. And no, we hadn't yet. Well, turns out he had been "to town" and checked with the coop for us. He found out delivery prices and the going rate for corn. He had done the fancy math and figured out what it would cost us to get 120 bushels of corn (around $500).
I thanked him for the information and sent him on his way. Half an hour later he drove up with a tall auger (for the rest of the country, an auger is like a big tube that can move corn from one spot (on the ground) to another (in the storage bin).
Surprised, I asked him where he had gotten it. "Oh, just have to turn over a few rocks. You going to be home tomorrow?"
"Sure..."
"Good. Brother Bill (who, in fact is not a brother but another neighbor) will be over around 2 to bring you corn. I will be here and help with getting the auger set up."
Then, in one fell swoop, our neighbors saved us $150 from the coop price Mike had quoted earlier.
As some of you might know, we have gone down to being essentially a one car family. This works just fine for us most days, but there are times where I need to buy groceries or go to the doctor. When this happens, I have to wake the boys up, throw everyone in the car, and drive Phil to work at 6:30am...and then pick him up later in the day after all of my running. While extremely do-able, it does make for a long day.
Before leaving after the corn was delivered, Mike asked if we would mind storing his second car while he left for the winter. Also, he would appreciate it if I drove it often so it didn't freeze up.
"Oh, I think I can handle that." I replied, floored at his generosity and trust.
---------------------------------Soapbox---------------------------------
So, that was the beginning of Thanksgiving week. And all week long, though I missed family and friends, God has so warmed my heart about my circumstances. And I suppose I feel a bit guilty that I am so content, that I am not pulling my hair out over missing people, rather being thankful for where we are.
Because two years ago, Black Friday would have been my all-in-all out of necessity. My three and a half month old boy would have been sleeping whenever I saw him. And my best and first energy would have been given to Target and the people there. Whereas now, I am free to give that to my rambunctious boys and my husband.
I love staying home and curling up the Day After Thanksgiving...no pressure to go and sell Chinese-made toys to people already deeply in debt, all while trying to encourage them to sign up for more credit.
I love seeing my littlest son smile and coo and learn to sit up (wobbly). I love having conversations with my oldest about the imaginary toad on the living room floor that eats jellybeans.
I love that only two years after the hardest Thanksgiving of my life, where I said goodbye to so many loved ones, that my heart can be warmed beyond understanding with the above truths. That our family in Iowa is becoming more real to us, and our friends here are too.
I can't explain it other than to say that when God says he will provide all we need... He means it. And when God says He watches over us even as he watches over a sparrow...He does. And it doesn't always seem like it in the moment. Because we don't always get the answer we want. But day after day and year after year, though we may be unfaithful to Him, He is ALWAYS faithful to us. He knows the desires of my heart- even better than I do, and only after they are fulfilled do I know how true that statement is.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
For the Love of Food
I don't know if I have mentioned this before, but Ryan loves food. I'm not talking about Hostess or Cookies, because everyone loves that kind of food. I'm talking Whatever I Give Him. He is equally excited to get fish crackers or some broccoli.
Since he has figured out where Mom keeps all of the food, anytime there is No Ryan, I have to immediately go the kitchen, where he is into something...crackers, cheese, dry oatmeal, whatever.
I gently scold him that he needs to ask before he just eats the Entire House...but the next day we are back to snitching. (He calls it "nitchen" and admonishes his father for the same trait when he comes home from work searching out readily edible food. "No nichen dad!" he warns, and then runs in to see me "I say, No nichen dad!" like "Don't worry mom, I've got your back!")
But, when there are a huge number of kids out there who won't eat anything but mashed potatoes, should I complain when a few minutes ago I saw a Blur of Ryan run past me with a just-opened bag of mini-carrots "niched" from the fridge?
I think he is on his 8th carrot...I'm pretending not to notice.
Since he has figured out where Mom keeps all of the food, anytime there is No Ryan, I have to immediately go the kitchen, where he is into something...crackers, cheese, dry oatmeal, whatever.
I gently scold him that he needs to ask before he just eats the Entire House...but the next day we are back to snitching. (He calls it "nitchen" and admonishes his father for the same trait when he comes home from work searching out readily edible food. "No nichen dad!" he warns, and then runs in to see me "I say, No nichen dad!" like "Don't worry mom, I've got your back!")
But, when there are a huge number of kids out there who won't eat anything but mashed potatoes, should I complain when a few minutes ago I saw a Blur of Ryan run past me with a just-opened bag of mini-carrots "niched" from the fridge?
I think he is on his 8th carrot...I'm pretending not to notice.
Two Miles
And, truly, its a good thing that our closest neighbor lives two miles away. Because our animals have decided that fences are optional...more accurately: pesky and unnecessary. At first, it was just Molly, the older and craftier sheep that we bought at a sale barn (we should have known she was an escape artist back then). Not too long after we let her into the pasture, she figured out that if she crouches way down and ducks her head under the wire, the electric fence won't penetrate her wool, and she can eat the grass On The Other Side. Sweet, sweet Other Side Grass. SO different from that fenced in grass, you know, with the fence and all.
And there she would stand, three feet from the fence, taunting Millie, the younger, bottle fed, more innocent lamb. Patiently, Millie would wait for some Human to walk by and then loudly voice her frustration. We would once again put Molly back in with the Plain Old Grass, and Millie would immediately start prancing around her like "Ha! You thought you could get away with that! Ha! I told the Humans!"
But since those days of innocence and tattling, Molly has taught her protege a few things, and now nearly daily they are out together, roaming the back and side yards, in search of that Other Grass.
And, let's not forget the chickens. Chickens who once roamed free and then one day, when we decided we would rather have decorations other than Chicken Poop on our front walk, we decided they would be penned up around their coop. We *ahem* took care of half of them and after that, the remaining chickens really had no desire to leave the safety of their pen.
But time went on. And what memory a chicken might have fades, and one by one they started flying over their pen. First, in search of the Humans and a replenishment of food or water. But now, it doesn't matter what amenities are present in the coop...food, water, swimming pools, a miniature treadmill...Have you SEEN what's on the Other Side?
The calves, granted, are our fault. They were to be pastured with our lambs for the time being, but the pasture area has a bunch of old wood and such in it (lambs are great for eating down the grass where you can't mow) and apparently nails and other such prickly objects taste like pumpkin bars to cows. Since nails are not pumpkin bars and are actually quite dangerous for them, we decided they should be in their own pasture. But...that fence is not done yet. It's just too nice to keep them inside, though, and Phil came up with a brilliant idea.
"Come see!" he beckoned me one day. "Out back!" So I glanced in the backyard and the two calves were there, eating, each tied to his own tire. "They can drag them a bit to get to new grass, but this will keep them from going very far - and I can put a bucket of water in the tire so they won't knock it over."
This $0.00 solution to the fence problem (for awhile, at least) really appealed to me, though I am sure the neighbors (when they happen out our way) are shaking their heads in disbelief at our little zoo.
I suppose what is so surprising to me is that they really don't go anywhere. They will run around the garden area or through the backyard...but they have never left our property line. I don't think they have even really come close to it. But, I suppose our little area looks like a lush oasis next to the empty corn and bean fields (Weeds! Grass! Glorious bugs!)
And there she would stand, three feet from the fence, taunting Millie, the younger, bottle fed, more innocent lamb. Patiently, Millie would wait for some Human to walk by and then loudly voice her frustration. We would once again put Molly back in with the Plain Old Grass, and Millie would immediately start prancing around her like "Ha! You thought you could get away with that! Ha! I told the Humans!"
But since those days of innocence and tattling, Molly has taught her protege a few things, and now nearly daily they are out together, roaming the back and side yards, in search of that Other Grass.
And, let's not forget the chickens. Chickens who once roamed free and then one day, when we decided we would rather have decorations other than Chicken Poop on our front walk, we decided they would be penned up around their coop. We *ahem* took care of half of them and after that, the remaining chickens really had no desire to leave the safety of their pen.
But time went on. And what memory a chicken might have fades, and one by one they started flying over their pen. First, in search of the Humans and a replenishment of food or water. But now, it doesn't matter what amenities are present in the coop...food, water, swimming pools, a miniature treadmill...Have you SEEN what's on the Other Side?
The calves, granted, are our fault. They were to be pastured with our lambs for the time being, but the pasture area has a bunch of old wood and such in it (lambs are great for eating down the grass where you can't mow) and apparently nails and other such prickly objects taste like pumpkin bars to cows. Since nails are not pumpkin bars and are actually quite dangerous for them, we decided they should be in their own pasture. But...that fence is not done yet. It's just too nice to keep them inside, though, and Phil came up with a brilliant idea.
"Come see!" he beckoned me one day. "Out back!" So I glanced in the backyard and the two calves were there, eating, each tied to his own tire. "They can drag them a bit to get to new grass, but this will keep them from going very far - and I can put a bucket of water in the tire so they won't knock it over."
This $0.00 solution to the fence problem (for awhile, at least) really appealed to me, though I am sure the neighbors (when they happen out our way) are shaking their heads in disbelief at our little zoo.
I suppose what is so surprising to me is that they really don't go anywhere. They will run around the garden area or through the backyard...but they have never left our property line. I don't think they have even really come close to it. But, I suppose our little area looks like a lush oasis next to the empty corn and bean fields (Weeds! Grass! Glorious bugs!)
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Charlie and the Pumpkin
Ryan (via a suggestion from Tifani) was Charlie Brown for the big day Here he is bragging about his booty to a sweet church girl. We have yet to explain that Giving, not Gloating About the chocolate is the way to win a girl's heart.
David was a pumpkin (note the stem on the top of his head.) Neither boy gave me very good pictures (as you can tell).
Michael and Tifani came from Washington this past weekend. What a joy it was to have them here. We are all feeling the withdrawls, but possibly not as much as Ryan, for his Michael has taken off out of state again.
Also? My canning for the year is officially complete. The jars here are three deep, and hopefully will keep us fed through the winter. Ahh, welcome fall!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)