The Rains Came (Finally)

We have been baking in the nation's heartland.

Most know this already, at least in some way. Most have read about the intense heat. But my dad and his wife excepting (who experience extreme hear in central Texas each summer), it's hard to fully appreciate how hot it has been here this summer, when you break out in a full sweat in a matter of a few paces. Most have read about the drought gripping Iowa and the agricultural belt. But it's hard to fully appreciate how dry it has been unless (again, excepting my dad and his wife, who endured an epic drought last fall) you see swaths of grass gone brown and expanses of corn fields turn from aspiring, green shoots to withered, tan stalks. It's a real eye opened, I tell you.

It just hasn't rained here.

That is, until today, when we got a real doozy of a storm.

I was at our new house, bagging all the leaves, sticks (I never knew there could be so many sticks in one place.) and yard debris. It was late morning, and humid. It had rained a little on and off for a half-hour, but considering how much we need, it was more the sky spitting in our eye than delivering anything substantive. I had started to think this would be another day of promise unfulfilled, when I looked to the west. The sky had turned green, and it grew completely still, nary a breath of air.

I knew something was coming, so I began to collect the lawn bags and take them into the garage. Within minutes, the storm hit, a freight train of thunder, lightning, wind and pounding rain. It was downright awesome in its intensity. I rushed around the yard like a fool, collecting the yard implements, then sprinting to my car to roll up the windows, then dashing into the house to close the storm windows.

Then I waited in the dark when the power went out.

Michelle, meanwhile, was at her mother's and sister's house experiencing much the same. Except while I dealt with gushing water and gusty winds, Michelle watched with some degree of horror as 70-mph winds sheared off huge limbs from the maple tree just behind the house, blew lawn chairs and jettisoned branches like javelins against the windows. It must've been a little like being in nature's war zone.

Ten minutes later, the storm belt had passed. But even in that short time, it dropped 1 1/2 inches of precious water on the soil and crops. I think we got more in our little town.

Scary? Yes, a little. But more than worth it.

Progress

Last weekend was one filled with some hard labor.

While Michelle, assisted by her sister, Rachel, lined cabinets in the kitchen, I took to landscaping the yard.

OK, let's be more truthful: I took to hacking away at the jungle that is our yard. We have a big, L-shaped plot in our fair little town. If you look at our place on Google Maps, you can make out our house – barely – but all you see is a mass of green to the north and to the west. That double lot, my friends, is ours. Currently, it's a mess, a cacophony of nature let loose to compete with itself. Someday, it'll be a lot of space for our boys to romp and roam. But for that to happen, some order needed to be restored.

So, armed with loppers and two handsaws, I got to it. It may seem against my nature (pun intended) to relish chopping down trees and clearing vegetation, but it's also sound ecology, in my book, to make way for species that are valued (to us, admittedly) and to get rid of those that are less so. So, yes, it is modification, stamping our imprint on the land, but the fact is this lot has been remade many times already, and we can create something that is good for our children, for us, and for birds, bees and other critters.

Luckily, we have a lot of really good stuff in our large yards. Two soaring evergreen trees in front. Two mature oak trees on the side and in the back. A maple tree. Blackberry bushes. Vines of grapes. A cherry tree in the back. More trees of other kinds. Some wild grasses. Nice variety. My goal, then, was not to engage in some clear cutting, but to let what we have breathe and thrive.

Here's what I was working with:

Back yard before

Back yard after

Side yard before

Side yard after

Do you see a difference? I must admit it doesn't seem as dramatic in pictures as it does in reality. The back yard looks like it's been leveled, which isn't quite accurate. Here's the back yard, as seen from the street:

You can barely see the scraped-away, newly mowed grass in the middle and back of the lot. Most of the trees in this picture will stay, which offers some measure of seclusion and a nice bit of woody diversity to the yard. We're getting there.

Mourning and Prayer

I had planned to write about all the home improvements we did this weekend and to show pictures of progress on our grounds. But that'll need to wait, for I learned today of something far more important.

The head men's basketball coach at Southwest Minnesota State lost a son in an awful head-on collision this past weekend. It's the second family tragedy to befall this family in a year.

The story is here.

I don't know Coach Bigler, but I mourn with him and his family, and my prayers are with them. It just underlines so starkly how capricious and fragile life can be, how so much is beyond our control, no matter how much we think we have it all buttoned down and figured out.

Southwest Minnesota State is in the same conference, the Northern Sun, that my brother-in-law Matt joined when he was named last week as the head coach of Minot State University in North Dakota. Matt reported on his Twitter account that he visited Bigler, and that the coach was in good spirits despite his injuries and his loss.

You can join the conversation via Twitter at #PrayforBigs.

We hope and pray for a speedy recovery.

Beaver Man

We've got a fair amount of house work to do this weekend, so I'll make this a quick one. My brother-in-law, Matt Murken, has a new job.

On Wednesday, he was named head men's basketball coach at Minot State University, in North Dakota.

The move is a wise one; MS elevated itself to NCAA Division II status this summer and entered a conference called the Northern Sun. Matt is familiar with both, from his tenure at Wayne State, in Nebraska.

Congratulations, Matt. You done good.

True to his nature, Matt played this one pretty close to the vest. Three weeks ago, he was helping me fell a big tree and didn't even mention the position. Then again, the position wasn't even open at that time. It only opened less than two weeks ago, and Matt apparently pounced on the opportunity. Good for him.

So, now he's a Beaver, and so are we.

The neat thing about this is Minot State has several games in the general area where we live, so there's a good chance I'll finally see his team play. By general, I mean within a 6-7-hour drive, which is doable, because most games are on weekends. I am really excited to watch basketball live and root hard for a team in which I'm fully invested!

So, although it sounds strange – GO BEAVERS!

Invasion of the Flower People

The title says it all: We're being invaded today by Flower People.

For weeks, Michelle's mother and sister have been preparing for this day. Each morning – often before anyone in our family has risen – they pop off into their expansive gardens for some tending. Each evening, after a day of work and following a quick dinner, they're back in the gardens, working until sundown, which can be as late 9 p.m.

Why do they do it? Well, it's to prepare for the visit by the regional day lily society, of course.

Yes, the Murken ladies are one of only four stops on this year's "Dazzling Daylilies of Cedar Valley" tour. It's a big honor to have your grounds – and the day lilies in them – to be chosen as a destination.

The club's organizers made the right choice, in my book. The Murken gardens are indeed fabulous, and that's coming from someone who could barely tell the difference between a day lily and a dandelion. The flowers are a riot of colors and all are meticulously cared for. They stand in row upon row, in plot among plot, over four acres of the Murken property. That's a lot of day lilies, folks. 700, in fact.

Here's an excerpt for how the club described the Murken garden in a brochure for the tourgoers:

"Sharon's luscious city/country garden now features cultivars from many hybridizers, with favorites from Karol Emmerich and Jack Carpenter. Keep an eye out for 'Shocking,' an orienpet lilium that provides an astonishing display among the day lilies."

I have no idea what they're talking about.

But the 50 or so people from Iowa and as far away as North Dakota who disembarked from the coach-style tour bus sure did. Around 8:30 this morning (almost an hour later than expected), they disgorged on to the Murken property and descended upon the breakfast tables that Michelle's mother and sister had prepared.

After bagels, fruit and muffins, coffee and juice, the day lillians strolled through the Murken gardens, discussing the varietals, taking close-up pictures of individual flowers and amusing themselves in general. Several took an interest in watching Nathaniel and I engage in a mock sword fight with sticks. 

About an hour later, a call went out, and the group ambled up the lane and back on to the bus, which, thankfully, did not attempt to maneuver its way fully down the meandering drive. And off the tour went to the next destination.

Another crew comes later today.

A Boy & His Boots

 

You just gotta love that photo.

Looks like our second child has entered the "Elmo Luv" phase of life.

Nathaniel loved Elmo for a long time. Elmo books, Elmo dolls, Elmo television programs, Elmo songs. If it was Elmo, it was prized. He still does love Elmo in some ways. But he never cared for the Elmo booties. Whenever we'd try to put them on him, he'd thrash around, resisting. The very few times we did get them on his feet, he'd immediately tear them off and throw them to the ground in disgust.

We figured those boots would be a dead ringer, entirely coveted by Natty Lou. But no. Isaiah, however, can't get enough of them. He points and grunts for the Elmo boots when he wakes up in the morning. He points and grunts for the Elmo boots when he wakes up from nap during the day. He points and grunts for the Elmo boots at night. He wants them on his little, chubby feet, all the time.

It will be interesting to find out whether his affection for the Elmo boots will extend to other Elmo merchandise. If it does, a lot of money is going to Elmo and his creators.

But while we may be poorer, we know Isaiah will be happy.

A Cousin Returns

A major, and I mean, major, reason why we moved to Iowa was to be closer to at least one side of our families. While most of my family is spread out, Michelle's family is geographically pretty close together. That meant Iowa.

We knew this move would be good for our children – and for us. In fewer than three months, Nathaniel and Isaiah have been to Grandma's several times now, they've seen their uncle Matt at least three times, and they see their Mimi and Aunt Rachel daily, as we're living with them while our new house gets made habitable.

Tonight, our boys will see their cousin again, too.

Nathaniel and Isaiah have three older cousins courtesy of my sister and their Uncle Rob. My sister had children earlier, and I had mine later, so there is a significant age gap. Amazingly, despite differences in age and many other things, my sister's children are wonderful around Nathaniel and Isaiah and even seem to like being with them. Soon, though, they will have better things to do. I understand that.

The cousin who arrives tonight is right in the middle, age-wise, to our two boys. Her name is Kenley, and they've all gotten to know each other quite well. Barring any unforeseen developments, they will see each other regularly. They will grow up together. Their bonds will strengthen. I expect they will become quite close, like best friends.

Kenley and her parents – Michelle's brother Ryan and sister-in-law Jonie – live in Nebraska. State next door. We've seen them three times already, I think, and this visit will be the fourth. The last time we got together, we all went to the zoo in Omaha and spent the night in Lincoln. While I attended a conference, Michelle and the boys returned to Ryan, Jonie and Kenley's home, and the cousins palled around even more.

Nathaniel and Kenley at the Omaha Zoo

Isaiah and Kenley at the Hastings children's museum

The time before that, we traveled to their home to celebrate Kenley's second birthday. One of my fondest memories from that weekend was watching Kenley and Nathaniel sitting at a children's picnic table, jabbering away at each other as they socked down hamburgers and fruit. They looked like old friends, catching up.

Maybe they are. But surely they are making memories and solidifying a familial bond.

Beginning tomorrow, there will be more of that.