F16’s Don’t Kill People, 500 Lb. Bombs Kill People

After the tornado, many of the old barns and outbuildings had to come down. This is problematic for the cats on the farm as they relied on those buildings for shelter. In the absence of the barn and garage, I’ve been seeing more cats around the house lately. At first, I was concerned the dog might try to go after them, but being quite elderly he starts after them, stops, begins coughing and the cats then sit there mocking him. Poor old doggie.

Last month, a new litter showed up and we’ve enjoyed watching the kittens grow. At some point, they became interested in Danny, watching from his bedroom window and began jumping up on the outside ledge to look at him. Now that they are a bit bigger, we hear crashes as they leap on the window air conditioners and ledges, sometimes two at a time.

Tonight is a very cold, windy evening and one sad looking kitten perched himself on the window by my desk and wouldn’t leave. He stayed there a good forty minutes looking at us with pleading eyes, but I’m much too allergic to let him in. I know Danny wants to feed them (hell, I want to feed them) but we just can’t do that. Besides, there’s plenty of food for them in the rubbish pit as it hasn’t been burned in quite some time-they can eat there. Still, having a sad kitten with big eyes meowing at you through the window is a bit hard to take. I stop myself from warming up a saucer of milk for "Little Lookie Lou", but I also know I’ll probably cave on the first sub-zero night and "accidentally" leave the door to the mudroom open with some old towels on the floor. I’m not completely heartless, you know…even if I traumatise my kid with threats of cooking them. I wouldn’t really do that. Nobody really eats cat…except Swedish people.

Anyone want a cat (or three?)

It was like the slow motion in the movies where something takes but a fraction of a second but seems to drag on in horribleness. I’d reached into the drawer next to the sink for an extra towel without looking as I had a washed glass in the other. I’m not sure what part of your brain coordinates with your sense of touch but I knew immediately, without looking that what I had hold of was not a dish towel. I think I knew before turning to look, but I looked anyway-then I screamed because I had a field mouse in my hand. It took the poor frightened thing (the mouse, not me) a second to scurry out of my hand and back out over the back of the drawer. I’ve noticed that farm mice aren’t terribly shy of humans (I guess compared to the feral cats, we’re tame) and have a tendency, when surprised to look at you as though you’ve disturbed them. In this case, the little grey mouse had tucked itself in snugly between my dishtowels.

I washed the dishtowels and set traps. I hate this time of year when the corn comes down, and the mice come in. I washed my hand too. Blech.

We live next to a wildlife area where people can hunt and fish. Yesterday was the start of dove season. Today, I let our little doggie (all nine pounds of him) out to do his thing when a truck drives up. Out hops a guy in camouflage toting a rifle. I know he was headed to the other side of the yard, but he parked directly in front of the house and well, our little dog is kind of territorial.

It’s always the little dogs that bark the loudest. I quickly brought him inside and waved to the guy and he went to the back of his truck and let out his hunting dog. Let me tell you, that big dog looked nervous. I don’t know how well the birding will go while he’s on the lookout for a vicious poodle. For a fourteen-year-old dog he still has it!

It took him under three minutes to shoot his dove and leave. I can’t understand the challenge in that-is it even worth getting into the whole uniform? Isn’t the variety of dove here basically a pigeon? I guess having never tried it I shouldn’t knock it but it does seem like quite a bit of bother for such a short hunting trip and tiny bird.

I guess pheasant season is around the corner and I can look forward to people knocking at the door wanting to shot birds in the lawn when there is a state wildlife area adjacent to the driveway. Signs everywhere-not like you could miss it.

We’re slowly getting back to normal here. I still need to replace my car (living with one car in the country just won’t cut it) but most of the new windows are in, and the debris in the yard is mostly carted away. I know this is hard to believe, but the insurance company was terrific in getting payments out to us and we didn’t in any way feel screwed over by them. Really, I didn’t expect it to go as smoothly as it did.

The tornado may have taken out half the farm, but my tomato plants not only survived they are thriving. The delicate sage plants are happily producing leaves as well.

A month later, I’m just starting to really think about it. At the time, there was so much cleaning up and filling out forms to do that I really didn’t have a chance for it all to sink in. I know we were very, very fortunate. Danny’s sticking a little closer to us than usual, and he talks about it quite a bit, but otherwise seems to be handling it OK. Three year olds don’t really understand mortality, so while it was scary, I don’t think he comprehends how life threatening it was. I wonder if keeping him away from television his entire life has changed the way he makes sense of things like tornados. He’s been spared watching hurricanes, and tsunamis in a constant loop of "news".

As I type there is lightning in the sky to the south, and fireworks going off to the west (it’s the town festival this weekend). We’re expecting bad weather late tonight and I must admit to getting a bit nervous when the weather radio alarm goes off, even though I understand the likelihood of ever being hit by a tornado again is pretty damn slim. Did I mention that they now know there were two tornados that came through here? I figure that really ought to put my odds into the millions and millions to one territory.

…And now the storm is coming in. It’s weird, listening to thunder mixing with the boom of fireworks.

Today, we set up a very large shelving unit that can hold 450 lbs. per shelf for all my canning. I’ve only filled one shelf so far, but it is early in the season and I haven’t started tomatoes or pickling in earnest. This is how I cope with worry-I shove hot food into jars and boil it in a canner. I won’t be fooled into relying on the freezer again (after a week without power after the storm) and I’m concentrating my efforts on canning and preserving. I very nearly splurged and bought a dehydrator yesterday, but I’m still interested in making fruit leather between a couple of large window screens laid out. We’ll see. I don’t really like fruit leather, but it seems like something mothers are expected to make for their children.

…Crap, now the lightning is getting closer. 11 PM. Danny’s still not asleep (I can hear him stirring in his room) and I’m too tired for a long night. I wonder if I should soak some beans for tomorrow, or start a sponge for bread? If I’m going to be up, I might as well be productive. I seem to be very productive these days. Weather radio going off in three…two…one…"The national weather service in Omaha has issued a severe thunderstorm warning for the following counties in Southeast Nebraska…"

I put up some cherry cordials today. My hands are stained blue from pitting them.

Their heads are green and their hands are blue, and they sailed to sea in a sieve.

Far and few, far and few, are the lands where complete total fucking idiots like us, live.

(With apologies to Edward Lear).

I just went to the kitchen for a drink of water and the widow is covered with millions of insects and June bugs (don’t they know it is July?). Two of them were copulating in plain view. L. thought I should put a photograph of them on the Internet…to shame them.

…The severe sideways wind is coming in now-must be 70 mph. I shouldn’t have bragged about the tomato plants-I’m not sure they’re going to make it through this. Now the whole house is shaking. I hear hail. Hooray. Danny is now wide-awake. Wide-awake and he wants to sit in the bathroom because the radio said to get to an interior room without windows. I’m pleased that he follows emergency instructions, but less pleased with him cowering on the toilet.

…We’ve brought him into our bed. The weather radio went off again with another warning. Danny’s pissed off and scared and declared:

"I’ll go to bed when Zephyr stops blowing."

Yeah, I’ll bet. None of us are getting any sleep tonight.

…Oh excellent, here comes more hail. So what was I saying back in the first paragraph about getting back to normal? I mean, normal except for everyone jumping in my bed at the first sign of rain?

Screw it; I’m going to bake bread.

As promised, here is another weekly home economics lesson. This week’s subject is home preserving with a water bath canner. I’ll leave pressure canning for another week.

I’ll say from the outset that I will not preserve fruit without putting it through a water bath for at least ten minutes. People will tell you that they’ve always just hot-packed into sterilised jars and never caught botulism. I will tell you that they have been fortunate, but stupid nonetheless. Organisms in the soils are much different than they were twenty or thirty years ago and it is recommended by the USDA to follow water bath guidelines. The days of melting a bit of paraffin over the top of jelly are gone.

It is important to be extremely sanitary when doing home canning. Set aside adequate time and make sure all your surfaces and utensils are in order. Sterilise everything. That’s a good guideline anyway, but for canning (and cheese making) it is crucial. Once the fruit is ready to pack, you will need to work fast-having everything ready to go avoids fumbling around in drawers and risking possible contamination.

The fruit and vegetables used for canning should be as fresh as possible and in excellent shape. Think of it this way-from the moment the produce was picked it has been decomposing (spoiling). Don’t purchase (or pick) more than you can preserve in a couple of days. On a related note, don’t convince yourself that you’ll make batch after batch in a single day-you won’t. Canning is hot, on-your-feet work and after a well-made batch is completed you’ll just want to sit down with a nice cool drink and admire your handiwork. It won’t be enjoyable if you spend sixteen hours on your feet cutting, cooking and canning fruit and vegetables.

Once you’ve followed the recipe directions (and canning guidelines available from the USDA and your local Extension Office) leave the jars alone. They should be spaced a couple inches apart on a firm surface away from drafts. The jars need to sit undisturbed for 24 hours, or they could shatter. You do not want that to happen after all your hard work. Keep those fingers busy doing the dishes and putting your canning materials away neatly for next time-but don’t touch the jars. Admire them from a distance.

So now you’re wondering, how to be certain everything went OK. If you followed the directions and left adequate headspace and remembered to remove the air bubbles with a small spatula, you should be looking good. Always remember to wipe the jars before sealing them to ensure a good seal. Next day, remove the screw band and press a finger in the centre of the lid. If it pops back, it did not seal. I always like to try and lift the lid with a fingernail as a second proof. If both these things are good-it worked. Wipe the jars with some white vinegar on a rag (to remove hard water deposits on the glass from the canner) and you’re ready to start the next project. Some jellies and jams take a while to completely set, so don’t worry if it still looks a bit runny. Of course, if the set completely failed, you can remove the fruit and re-cook it according to directions. If you’re going to do this, it must be done immediately.

Yesterday, I made red plum jam. Tonight, I prepared bing cherries for preserves tomorrow (they have to sit 18 hours prior to cooking and canning). The day after, I have apricots. Last week, it was strawberry and blueberry jam (oh, that blueberry jam is good. It is going to be even better when I’m eating it in December).

View the red plum jam HERE.

 View grapefruit/orange marmalade HERE

How about some freezer jam?

Strawberry? Blueberry? 

Still afraid of canning? That’s OK. Try this strawberry jam that keeps a week in the fridge. 

Think I’m going overboard? Check out THIS couple that have been tracking their canning adventures since 1966!

Happy canning.

I’m sorry, but I just can’t seem to collect my thoughts lately-at least not enough for a coherent post. There really isn’t much to say. We continue cleaning-up and trying to get various insurance forms filed, etc. I can honestly say, without exaggeration this is the most exhausted I’ve ever been in my life. The first month of round-the clock feedings with Danny was loads easier than this-believe it or not, I was getting more sleep. I know some people liken the birth of a child to a tornado-but it’s not; the clean up is easier with a baby.

My living space is actually pretty well dealt with, but I still haven’t gone to the attic to deal with the broken glass. I have clothes stored in plastic bins that were kept dry, so I don’t see it as a good use of my lacking energy to climb the narrow, rail-less stairs to clean up glass where no one ever goes. You know when I’ll decide to do it? Some night as I’m tossing in bed I’ll get up at three AM and go clean it up. My days and nights are so screwed-up it isn’t funny.

And now I need to buy a freaking car because mine was totaled in the storm. Know what I want? I want a nice car that is old enough that I can fix it in my driveway with tools I already own rather than making my mechanic and his magical diagnostic machine wealthy. I’m thinking something along the lines of a Rambler. Or a Valiant. God, I hate new cars that cost you fifty bucks to change the oil.

I’m sitting here thinking of all the things I could tell you about, but it really does sound like I’m whining. I mean, hell-Iowa took a worse weather hit than we did. Sure, I had 100 mph winds hit my house, but I didn’t have pig shit and pesticide-laden water up to my ceiling. I did however avail myself of the free tetanus shot the Red Cross was giving here-just in case (not that it would help much with pig shit and pesticides, but rusty nails ain’t no party either).

Given the extent of the damage, five days without electricity was pretty good. Those teams worked like mad getting all those downed poles replaced and rewired. Say what you will about FEMA but they really did do a "Heck of a job" getting money into our tiny community to rebuild. I suppose the size accounts for that-a few hundred people aren’t New Orleans. For a town that looked like a war zone just under two weeks ago, the clean up is remarkable. So many volunteers showed up to help it was really heartening. The police did close off the town briefly, but that was to keep the curious (and press) out while people assessed and registered the shock. No one was going door to door confiscating guns, and really, the main police presence consisted of the county sheriff handing out stickers to shell shocked kids. He seemed slightly uncomfortable with the task, but to his credit, he did it anyway. Under the circumstances, I’d rather make a drug bust than have to talk to freaked-out children too.

One of these days I’ll write a real post (I kept notes in the aftermath of the tornado) but for now it is all a bit too recent and I’m still dealing with it.

Thanks again to everyone for your well wishes. I have the most excellent "Sorry Your House Got Hit By A Tornado" card hanging on my fridge. I really do have the coolest friends.

I mean, holy crap, freaking tornadoes!

I’m posting from a very nice hotel because our house-make that our whole town was destroyed last night. Everyone is OK (no fatalaties that we know of) but all our windows are blown out, the ceiling is peeled back to beams and there are trees and the better part of a barn sitting in the front lawn. Pictures will follow eventually.

Driving out of town we saw the power lines all down the county road knocked over like dominoes. We still don’t have an official statement of what hit us, but the suspicion is it was multiple tornadoes. For a while we were trapped in the storm cellar by debris-that was exciting. Thank God for neighbours because 911 was overwhelmed last night and couldn’t dispatch calls locally. Good to know for future problems.

Now everything is flooding. Tonight is expected to be even worse. We tried getting to a motel in the next town, but it was flooded out so we turned around and headed to Fremont. The staff at the hotel have been wonderful-particularly with Danny who is a bit freaked out at the moment. By some miracle, his room was left completely intact and all his toys and books are fine. Even weirder, my antique glass bowl and platter that sit in the middle of my dining room table were intact with blown-in window glass strewn around it. Go figure. We could hear all the glass breaking down in the storm cellar.

Did I mention the baseball sized hail that punched hundreds of holes in the not-quite year old siding? Yeah, that happened too.

Pardon my typos-I’m posting from a hotel lobby on a strange keyboard.

It may be a week before power is restored out to the farm (I walked out this morning and it look like a bomb had gone off). The Volvo is totalled. I have a great photo to share later of a large piece of metal from the roof of the barn sticking up out of the windshield. The rest of the metal was hanging from the one remaining tree. Oddly, as my husband noted, that was the damn tree with the low limb that always poked him in the face when mowing the lawn-that tree is still standing!

The state police have actually closed off our small town-that’s how bad it is. I haven’t been in town to see it (we live on an acrage)but our insurance agent said it was pretty bad from what she’s hearing.

I do credit the weather radio with saving our lives-we’d have never made it upstairs. We were very, very fortunate. This is the part where I tell you to take severe weather warnings seriously and get a NOAA weather radio with an alarm. If the weather sirens went off in town, we didn’t hear it three miles up the road. The radio was our only clue.

Now I just need to find a good home for the sourdough starter and the dog until things get organised. Any takers?

I don’t expect to be checking back too often over the next week, but we are all OK, which is of course the important thing. I’m still in too much shock to process any of it, but I’m sure it will start to sink in soon. Relatively speaking, our damage was mild compared to many of our neighbours.

Yikes. I hope we don’t have a repeat tonight.

I posted some scary photos and the story of my utter stupidity over at the other blog. I’m finding it too difficult to post photos here.

Storm chasing isn’t my idea of fun.

If you have a weather radio, this might be a good time to check that it is plugged in and set with fresh batteries-just in case. Yikes.