A Mighty Wind

For some reason it was the power going off that woke me. It was around 4am Monday morning, the second last night of the kids and I’s two week stay with my grandpa on the old Wagoner family farm in Iowa (more on that another day). The weather had been hot and muggy for days, but we had received some light rain earlier that day. At some point after we had gone to sleep, all that heat and humidity conspired to bring some serious weather hurtling down upon central Iowa. Even though the lights were out there was enough regular lightening to enable easy navigation to the living room. When I got there I met grandpa who was just coming down the stairs. The two of us fumbled around for a few minutes before he found where the kids had left the flashlight. We went out onto the porch to have a quick look. “I don’t like it” was all he said before we went back into the living room.  A few moments later I heard a popping sound that initially made me think of hail, but was actually a tree snapping over near that corner of the house. We grabbed the kids and headed for the cellar. About twenty minutes later – during which Thomas got to do a wee in the old shower drain - the wind died down enough that we decided it was scarier in the cellar than out of it. Up we went.

Grandpa reckons it was the worst storm he has seen in all his 50years on the farm. The next day the place was a mess with assorted trees and limbs everywhere.That night, grandpa and I played cribbage by candlelight and it was hard to sleep in the air-conditioning free heat and humidity. The power came back around 11am Tuesday.



Grandpa had to use the chainsaw before we were able to clear the driveway. Honestly, I think he was kind of enjoying it. Everybody came through safely and no real damage was done to the farm, but now he has plenty of cleanup work to keep him busy and firewood for the winter. Before lunch he had set about fixing fence in a race to get as much of it repaired as possible before the cows discovered the storm had given them the gift of free will. I hope that when I am 83 I can still swing a chainsaw when needed.

All amusement aside, we were lucky.  The cornfields for miles around had been blasted flat as pancakes (think ‘tunguska of corn’). The little town of Garwin (500 residents) is just 4 miles down the road. They had a  to evacuate to the high school because of a gas leak. The substation was damaged, with lines down and even poles snapped over, so they are going to be without power for the better part of a week (the farm was reconnected on Tuesday morning). The Red Cross even set up a shelter and food distribution centre at the Garwin Fire station.

I took some video when we were in the centre of town and this 3min news report on the storm includes lots of video footage from Garwin.

I looked around as grandpa drove out the driveway to take us to the airport. It wasn't exactly the image of the farm I had intended to take with me for  how ever many years it will be be until we can return. Still, all in all, a rather exciting close to our visit.

A whisker’s difference

Saturday was a pirate birthday party for one of the boys in Tom’s class. Very exciting.  We got the boy a big book on all things pirate, wrapped it with pirate paper and put together a pirate costume for Thomas. A pair of black pants that were about to die anyway were sacrificed to the cause and cut into a pair of raggedy pirate-pants adorned with a sash (aka, one of Jane’s scarves). A simple white shirt for the top, and then a floppy tri-corn hat and cutless (post Halloween sales are awesome) were added to the mix.  Last but not least, a pirate needs facial hair. Tom doesn’t like face paint, so I decided to go with a thin layer of vasoline and coffee grounds.  Que drama.  He hated the stubble...

The saddest little pirate in town.

At one point Thomas was prepared to give me his pirate hat, pirate sword and even his piece of the birthday cake if he could wash off the stubble. I picked him up and carried him to the car. On the way to the party we agreed that if no other child had stubble or any of them laughed at his that we would wash it off.  Predictably, almost every boy had some kind of beard or mustache and Thomas had forgotten all about his previously world-ending stubble within two minutes of walking in the door.

It was also a great party.  The kids started by making pirate treasure boxes and personal pirate flags, but the coolest thing was definitely the professional pirate and his accompanying witch. They led the kids on a treasure hunt, and many associated games, through the whole of the backyard. Lots of fun.  Initially Tom was very suspicious of them, but he finally got over it and joined in. Fair enough, I rather like the idea that he is distrustful of pirates, witches and actors.

After the treasure had been found it was time for pizza and an ice cream birthday cake and finally, a treasure chest piñata.  Every kid took two turns, three swings each whacking it, but of course in the end it was up to the daddy to actually break the bloody thin open. A few of the kids gave it good and proper whacks, but there were also a lot of very light wrist-flicks, for which I blame Star Wars and lightsabres. There is no way a proper pirate would fight that way.

The triumphant return of Treacherous Thomas!

Helicopters of Happiness

Our back deck is covered with these, and it makes me happy. It’s a seedpod from a maple tree (penny included for scale), but the syrup connection is not what brings a smile to my face. It's the memories. When you fling such a seedpod into the air it floats down with a gentle spiraling motion. When I was a child growing up in the small town of Ely Iowa, we had a maple tree in our yard and I used to love playing with the helicopters. Over the years I must have spent hours looking for the best ones judged by perfection of form, but mostly by how slowly and gracefully they spiraled their way back to earth after being tossed skyward.  And when the quest for perfection lost its appeal, quantity has a quality all its own.  I distinctly recall gather up bags of these seed pods to dump en-masse off the edge of the nearby railway bridge.  That was big fun for a small kid in a preX-box, tiny town Iowa.

That bridge was a treasure in its own right. The occasional train would pass through, often leaving behind a searing hot flattened penny that some child had left on the tracks.  Standing underneath the bridge while a train thundered overhead was also a popular event. The bridge even spanned a wide, shallow creek that provided great entertainment and relief in the hot and humid summer months. 

These days, I have the pleasure of introducing the kids to the joy of nature’s helicopters.  It just so happens that there is a maple tree right next to the bridges at the end of our street. Fancy that.

Another milestone for Thomas

Before the wheels came off.

Last year, Thomas took a tumble off his bike and could not be coaxed back onto it for anything. This year has been better. Yesterday Thomas finished his dinner and declared that he wanted to ride his bike. So I grabbed a handful mail that needed to go into the local letter box and we headed out the door.  Lillian was nowhere near finished eating and stayed home with mommy.

After posting the letters we decided to head home through the park that runs parallel to the river.  It has a bike lane and lots of flatish soft grassy areas, which is when it got interesting. With almost no complaints from Thomas I took the training wheels off and gave him a push out onto the soft grass.  He went for about 10 meters and then fell over. And then we did it again, and again - almost entirely without complaint.  Eventually I brought him back onto the bike path, gave him a push, and quickly found myself running to try and keep up with him (yes, welcome to the rest of my life).

 He still doesn’t get more than 15 - 20 meters before spiraling out of control, but this year at least he is keen to keep trying. Oh what a difference a year makes.

Spring is GLORIOUS.

After a rather long and drawn out winter, spring is well and truly upon us.  With anticipation heightened by the severity of the Canadian Winter, it is hard to overstate how much people around here embrace the change. And it’s not just people, the environment itself seems over-invigorated. The trees in the neighborhood and local parks exploded and are awash with blossoms. The air carries a powerful mix of fresh cut grass and flowers (with the odd wiff of mulch thrown in for variety). Half the population is wearing shorts and short skirts, while the other half has accidents and whiplash. Australia’s two seasons - ‘on fire’ and ‘under water’ - are simply no match for the explosion of greenery and life on display around here at the moment. Glorious I tell you.

Jane's work, and quite a contrast to my Halloween window boxes.

Spring means frocks, hats and freezy-pops!

Spring means new swimmers and flowers, lots of flowers.

I Sense a Disturbance...

I know I already posted these pics on Facebook, but not everybody here is also there. Plus, I was looking at them earlier today and realized there is more about these pics that I like than was raised on Facebook.
 

The short version is that Thomas was recently invited to a Star Wars birthday party, so we put together a fairly simple Jedi costume and I bought him a lightsabre (red was all the shop had, so don’t read too much into it). The two pics were taken of him in his costume shortly before we went to the party. I like the obvious Sith vs Jedi division of the pics, but I really like the way one picture shows him trying to look like a powerful Jedi while the other is just a very sweet little boy, excited and happy about his costume and to be going to a birthday party.

And here is a bonus picture that did not appear on Facebook.
For those who enjoyed Dexter’s Lab, I defy you to see this picture and not think of
Dexter and Dee Dee.

Season of Birthdays: Once More Round the Drain

...I mean sun. Once more round the sun. It was my birthday back in mid-Feb (yes, I am waaaaay behind in my blogging, again). After turning 40 last year, I intended to keep this year low key, but this was positively subterrainian. It started nicely, Lillian provided her usual 6:30am wake up call, which segued smoothly into handmade birthday cards and prezzies. After that it was business as usual. Kids to school, Jane to work, me to work, retrieve the kids, off to Tom's ice skating lesson, home for their dinner, bath, bed. Normally Jane turns up around their dinner time, but on this of all night's she was required at a no-spouses diplo-dinner. She got home, fairly well exhausted, shortly after 9pm. So basically, I spent the night of my birthday eating pizza and watching TV. Meh. 

Ah well. Next year will be back in Australia for the big day, and I did get some nice stuff this year. I am particularly pleased with my condiment gun. Yep, just in time for BBQ season I am packing heat, and by heat I mean mustard, and by mustard I mean that yellow stuff North Americans put on hot dogs. Fear me, or at least fear the yellow stuff.