I tried to take a picture of something exciting to share, but discovered that my memory card was still in the computer here at home. So much for that idea. Tomorrow, though, promise.
Speaking of tomorrow, it’s the last day of school! We are hoping for no rain, as the kids would sure like to be able to have their Track and Field Day.
Thanks for the ideas about my afghan issue. For now, it is stuck back in the bin, to be dealt with another day. I’ve got a pile of stuff on my plate (more about that tomorrow when I can take that blasted picture…).
I got an e-mail that this month’s theme for Nablopomo is “HOME” — I’m pretty sure I’m not going to manage a post every day, but I thought I’d try to have some home-themed posts.
I thought I’d start by telling you that my home is about 45 minutes away from Parkersburg, the city that was hit by an EF-5 tornado last Sunday. Over 200 homes were destroyed, and I think the number of people that lost their lives is 7.
I can’t even imagine. Can you? Can you even fathom having your home just ripped to shreds? And your belongings strewn who knows where? One of my husband’s coworkers lives east of Parkersburg, and his home was destroyed as well. Mark and some other men that he works with went up on Saturday to help pick up debris from the ditch, yard and fields surrounding this home. Some of the stories he shared about the things he had seen or heard about were just amazing. The wife had been at work and had left her wedding ring in her jewelry box. The box was gone, but they found her ring embedded in a wall. Their John Deere tractor was found a half mile away. It still worked. Their car was in the ditch and the kids’ 4-wheelers were out there somewhere, too. One worked, the other was mangled.
They still haven’t found his snowmobile. Or the enclosed trailer it was in.
I think the communities affected have actually been overwhelmed by volunteers and donations. The REd Cross has said it has the money it needs to cover its costs, but they’d love it if people continued to make donations to the general Disaster Recovery fund. The donations of goods has been pretty overwhelming, too.
Makes me think of the song at the beginning of the musical, The Music Man:
Oh, there’s nothing halfway
About the Iowa way to treat you,
When we treat you
Which we may not do at all.
There’s an Iowa kind of special
We’ve never been without.
That we recall.
We can be cold
As our falling thermometers in December
If you ask about our weather in July.
And we’re so by God stubborn
We can stand touchin’ noses
For a week at a time
And never see eye-to-eye.
But we’ll give you our shirt
And a back to go with it
If your crops should happen to die.
I know I fuss and moan a lot about the weather (which has been absolutely freakin’ gorgeous this weekend, by the way….), but for the most part, I’m pretty proud to call Iowa my home.
Until next winter. Then I’ll probably be talking about moving south again.
And now, I must get to work cleaning up my Home. I’d say that some of it looks like a tornado hit it, but I think, in all honesty, that would be disrespectful. Especially after I’ve seen the pictures of what homes hit by tornadoes actually look like.
I hope you are having a beautiful weekend wherever you call home, I’ll yak at you tomorrow.
Karen S says
Rather thought provoking. I so enjoy reading your posts, as they are well written and inspire emotion in the reader.
Honey! I’ve got a suggestion on what to do with the, but I’m afraid our dear Carla has already expanded the hole in the ozone with her own burning and torching…..Please note that this is NOT a comment on the physical attributes of the afghan– more a comment on the finishing of said afghan! ELEVEN more skeins?????
Of course the John Deere still worked, right?
I meant to tell you, I was curious how close the tornadoes were to you so I google mapped them and decided they were entirely too close for comfort. I’m happy to hear your friends are all right.
Lynn Douglass says
Oh my goodness, Suzanne! With being all caught up with graduations and subsequent parties, I had no idea what was going on in your part of the world. Probably better that I didn’t, because I’d have been worried sick about you! I’m sorry about the devistation, but so thankful that it bypassed you.