I don’t know how many of you readers are fans of musical theater, but as anyone who lives in the Midwest (the actual middle of the US-not the “fake” Midwest of Ohio and Pennsylvania which is so obviously still on the eastern side of the country and not the middle) and the plains states knows, the wind is something fierce here.
Editing Jenna here interrupting the start of this week’s post. It’s been a dark week here in the US, and I’m afraid I’ve felt the darkness in my heart and soul. And, it probably hasn’t helped that I dealt with a migraine most of the week that wouldn’t let up. But, for posterity and my sanity, I wanted to say a few words. I’m deeply saddened by the violence and seditious acts that led to several deaths in DC this week. It is no secret that I don’t support Trump. But even though there are other Presidents I haven’t been fond of (I can’t say I agreeded with much of anything George W. Bush did or said and some policies that Barack Obama passed and oversaw were terribly flawed), I have struggled with this man representing our nation.
This week, I returned, time and time again, to a hot summer day in 2016 when I was driving to a nursing home while I still worked as a music therapist in a hospice company. It’s burned into my memory, because as I drove along Hwy 9, I heard tape of a speech Trump gave where he promised to create a national list of all US citizens who practice Islam if he became President. I believe he called it a “National Muslim Registry.” And, on that warm morning, I had to pull off the highway because my eyes filled with tears, making it impossible to drive safely. I was worried. The language he used was the exact type of rhetoric I heard at the tour I attended at Auschwitz (one of the Nazi Concentration Camps in Germany) when I was 16 and also felt straight out of my History of Nazi Germany class in college. It was fascism to its core and it bothered me that so many fellow citizens were overlooking the dangerous things Trump was saying, in favor of getting rid of the status quo. I recall asking Tyler that evening about the speech and if this man could actually be serious And Tyler replied something to the affect of believing a person when they show you and tell you who they are.
The storming of the capital was a senseless act of violence by our own American citizens who should be tried for treason. I’m sure I’ll be holding my breath until after Inauguration Day and for many months to come. Because these times are more precarious and dangerous than they need to be. And we are walking a very fine line of history of right now. Please, stay safe.
The wind has a name in the show Oklahoma and I think it’s fitting because wind can turn a warm day chilly and a cold day dangerous. It certainly impacts everything about life here.
Just before the predicted Christmas storm, we had a day that would have felt unseasonably warm if not for the intense wind.
And, while Tyler was finishing up his last day of school before the break, the wind started causing a ruckus here at the homestead.
The tarp blew off the wood pile by the shed. And every time I tried to cover the wood pile back up, the wind caught the tarp and ripped it back off. I ended up moving rocks from the rock pile to sit on the tarp, as the steel poles Tyler had used to hold the tarp down were failing in their duties.
It was rough going. Because I was dealing with a walking in water day. You see, some days it feels like my legs are dragging through water. It makes me want to just lay without moving, but when I do that, the electricity starts to move through my legs. It’s a catch-22 basically. And when you are walking in water, it takes you 3x as long to complete any task. But Tyler was at school and I had to do something before the tarp blew into East Lake.
After I got the rocks on the tarp I heard a large banging noise. The pieces of a grain bin Tyler brought to the homestead (for a future project) were starting to fly up off the concrete pad. I tried to go over and pull them down, and then a gust came up and nearly knocked me over with the pieces flying about.
I thought, “Well played wind. Well played.”
So I brought in the reinforcements. I called my dad.
He, not being a person walking in water, was able to pull down the two sheets of metal that were stuck at 90 degrees. Then he suggested we put the paver stones on the sheets until Tyler could come home and find a more permanent solution. Also thinking it wouldn’t be great to have large pieces of metal flying through the air, this seemed like a reasonable plan to me.
It wasn’t an amazing feat, or maybe even a terribly interesting day. But it is a little part of life here on the homestead. You never know what you’ll need to try and do next and what surprises the weather will bring. But that’s acreage life. And Iowa.