Enjoying the sunshine

We sat outside for a while in the shade Tuesday night. As you can see, Froglette had a great time. Our neighbor and his dog joined us for a while which gave Froglette plenty of things to look at. This girl likes being outside! We've been lucky and the weather's been nice enough to get a good walk in almost every day. They've even played outside at daycare and yesterday they took all the kids on a walk through the "forest".

I got this new wrap to wear her in while walking.

It's a woven wrap so it has less stretch than the Moby (the orange one). Our next thing to try is to wear her on my back!! She's getting a little less squirmy, so I'm hoping to give it a try in the next few weeks.

Peter wore her in it during our trip to Minneapolis over Spring Break. She slept a lot in it and we were able to walk and explore the area near our hotel.

We also have a mei tai. Here's PEter testing it out with the help of Cole.

I've worn her in it a few times, but keep reaching for the wrap first. We'll have to keep trying it out. It also allows you to wear the little one on your back too.

So much fun! We haven't used our stroller much yet, but I love going for walks this way.

What the @#%^&$#%

So, it's April 2nd. Officially spring, the birds have arrived and the weather should be improving, right?

It's snowing. It snowed two days ago, and it's snowing right now. 

Seriously? Snow? Come on. I'm am so freaking tired of this.

Brrrrrrrrr

It was -22 when we woke up this morning.


-22

That is a completely unreasonable temperature. It's warmed up to -15, which is so much better. Sigh.

Annoyed

Things I hate right now:
1) temperatures in the negatives, with wind chills in the negative 20's;
2) research papers.

That's all, really.

A break

We're off to the Left Coast tomorrow for a few days of break and "rest" (aka running around crazy-like to see friends and family and eat good food).


Someone isn't too happy about our trip.

This is assuming that we can actually get out of the Midwest. We acquired 1.5 inches of snow in a few hours today.

It's cold and blustery out (although 20 degrees warmer than the other day). Let's hope that our flights all leave as planned. We're looking forward to seeing you all very soon.

Wind

As a west coaster through and through, my experience with a range of weather conditions has always been limited. hot, warm, cold, wet dry. Only at the coast did we have weather. And it's memories of weekends and vacations there that come rushing back during days like today. It's not that it's cold today, it's above freezing, it's just so windy.

I remember flying kites with Dad at the beach when I was 14, 15. He'd wrap his arms around me to hold me down as I felt the wind pull the kite and us. We'd have to measure the wind with the little wind gauge to determine which lines to put on the kite (and which kite could handle the wind speed that day). We'd launch kites and fly and it was so great to spend that time together. One of the last things I packed before we moved out here was a kite. My sister and I sat on the floor and tried to decide what to do with them. We sent a special pair to our Coast Friends and my sister and I picked a kite and related equipment each. It's bundled up the closet here, but I should remember it in the spring. It's surely flat enough here to fly it.

Or Dad and I would go fishing out in the ocean or sometimes in the bay. Mom didn't like it when we went in the ocean and we stopped going that far out at some point after the sand started filling the mouth of the bay and it got dangerous. I think some boats capsized even, coming back in against the waves. We'd go early in the morning and spend a lot of time out there. I think back now and wish I had a tape of our conversations out there. I don't remember what we talked about, and I suspect we didn't talk very much. It wasn't really about the talking but the being together and watching the boat rise and fall with the swells, reeling the line in and out, and replacing the bait as the sneaky salmon ate it off our hooks without our noticing. Of course, we caught some too, back in the days when people caught salmon in that bay. We'd catch them and they'd be all slippery and shiny, with their scales shimmering. Of course, then you'd have to bonk them on the head which was never nice but I didn't feel too bad about it, better a quick bonk than slow suffocation was my idea. One time, we had a terribly unsuccessful fishing trip and just gave up. We were outside our normal area and decided to turn our fishing trip into a scenic tour. We drove around and saw different parts of the shore than we normally saw. A whale surfaced oh, 100 yards maybe from us and spewed foul smelling breath. I remember be scared (that thing was probably under us!) and delighted (we saw a whale!) almost simultaneously and I remember Dad looking for the lifejackets, just in case.

I remember our walks to town. It was almost always easier to walk towards town because the wind was at your back. We'd wander into the same 3 stores (with changing names and merchandise). And then we'd head back, against the wind. It was never nice to walk back with the stingy sand and rain against your face.

I remember a crazy walk on the beach with Mom. There's a great photo somewhere. We headed out into an awful storm repleat with ponchos, one orange and one clear. We walked in the rain and the wind with the stormy seas and came home with pockets of sand dollars (we gave those things away to school friends for years). We were soaking wet too as I remember. The fire was always going during the winter at the coast (and the dryer was always running!).

So today, I remember the coast and the wonderful times we had there. There was always a cozy couch to curl up in and read a book (or the special reading nook that Dad made) and a fire and cocoa and my mom and dad and sister. As much as they drove me nuts during my teen years (because I was an annoyingly difficult teen girl more than anything else I'm sure) what I remember now is the time we spent together.

In a few days we'll be home and I cannot wait. I miss them all terribly, although I'm often so busy that I don't have time to notice. It's days like today, when I'm not rushing from place to place and dropping of sheer exhaustion that the memories flood back, triggered by a little wind.

First snow

Hot

It's currently 95 degrees out, but the heat index is 111. I'm not actually sure I've been this hot before. There's a heat warning until dusk. Don't worry about us, Miles and I are staying inside.

Can you imagine living here without AC? How did the pioneers do it?

Tornados

Well, we're not even home for a week and the storm season is starting. They just interupted NPR with a severe tornado storm warning for our county. This means that they haven't sighted an actual tornado, but that the weather conditions are right to produce one. I've canceled my plans to head out and look for a new laptop and we're staying downstairs near the "tornado shelter" (aka the space under the stairs).

It's not particularly scary, more crazy than anything else. They just announced on the tv of visibility at near zero on the freeway and cars blown off the road.

Interested in following? Put our zip code into weather.gov

Updates to follow

5:00 pm-
Well the rain and excitement have passed safely. No tornadoes were spotted and the cat is coming out of his secret hiding place. We're supposedly in for a week of rain and excitement! Wanna come visit?

It's raining everywhere!

So, I've been following Peter's stories of the flooding in Iowa. In fact, the floods in Cedar Rapids have made CNN en español here, which is interesting and a little strange. But, I 'm not missing all that much, because it is rainy season here too. This part of Mexico really has two seasons (like Portland really). Wet and dry. But, unlike Portland, wet = summer and dry = winter. So, we are just beginning wet season. The monsoon like rains come in the afternoon or evening usually, and they downpour and then stop very dramatically. We're in a valley, so you can watch the storms come in from the north and make their way down the valley, with full thunder and lightning shows. It's dramatic and exciting.

The other weekend, in Guanajuato, we endured epic rain (all day long). Since Guanajuato is hilly unlike Queretaro, the water rolls downhill.

It looks like this.

Instead of streets, we had rivers. And we waded through them to get from place to place.

Here's poor J trying to make her way across the street

We got through just fine, of course, but they told us that during the real rains, people can't leave their houses due to the water levels. Flooding everywhere it seems.

The Life is a Cruel, Scary Place Sometimes

I am writing this from my secret hiding place. This place is so scary that I need to hide in this cool, dark place, where no one can find me, for 20 hours a day. Fortunately, I sleep 20 hours a day, so the overlap is nice. But let me tell you this, being awoken by loud cracks of thunder coming from the sky is not a fun time. Even when I'm in the happy dark place.

This is the scariest place I've ever been. EVER! It's so loud, and the flashes so bright, it's scares the poop out of me. Literally. I've been pooping all over the place, I'm so scared. So scared. And my favorite Kimberly isn't here to cuddle with me. So much sadness layered over the scared.

Damn, that was a loud one!

These storms are just the latest in a string of unfortunate events over the last few months.

First, there was the whole bird incident: We had this little bird come visit for a week. At first, I thought to myself 'Yum, what a delightful looking snack that little guy is. He's all bright and green, I bet he's very tasty.'


So I tried and tried to meet my new 'friend', but alas, the defenses around him were too strong for my little paws. Also, he yelled really, really loudly, which is so off-putting. Eventually I just sat with him and fantasized about chewing on his little tasty wings.


A little while later, Kimberly and Peter were hiding things from me in a small room. They were trying to be all sneaky, but I knew there was something in there. I could smell it.


Eventually, I was able to break in, and I went to work right away, investigating what was in the giant bag. I got to eat some tasty paper while searching for something that smelled suspiciously like tasty food.

Peter stopped me once, but I wasn't going to let him stop me from my new quest.

I eventually was able to break in again, and this time I wasn't letting go of that special bag. I wanted in, and no matter how hard Kimberly pulled, I wasn't letting go of that tasty paper. I did my best sucker fish impression.

Eventually, they moved the secret bag and, unfortunately, I haven't been able to find it yet. But my quest continues for it, and other tasty snacks through out the house.

Now if only this thunder would ever stop, and Kimberly came home, then all would be well again.

Devastation

First of all, thank you all for the wonderful comments in the original garden post. I appreciate them.

Second, remember how mentioned I would keep you updated on said garden? Well, this may be the last post in that thread.

So, I mentioned that it was raining and we were having thunderstorms, right? Well, I awoke this morning to a co-worker who also has a plot near us: 'The rain gods are fickle.' I know he's trying to plant his plot, so I thought there was too much water still and he was sad.

I was so wrong.

When I walked down to the garden plot, I noticed an unusually large number of cars coming through the complex. Then, as I got close to the plot, I saw this:

You're looking at a soccer field. And that's water. A lot of water. More water than there should be. Like, say, a flood.

And this is where our garden plot is/was/should be:
There is a river that runs a couple hundred feet to the south of our plot, and apparently it crested overnight (I heard someone say it crested 5 feet, which sounds really bad):
Now the river is like 10 times as wide as it was before. And flowing really fast.

And if it looks deep, it is. See these basketball hoops, they're 10 feet tall. Keep in mind that the original height of the river was at least 5 feet BELOW our garden plot.
There's also a golf course across the street, which is along the river. Guess what happened to that:
I think that hole now has a water hazard.

It's supposed to thunderstorm pretty much non-stop until next Wednesday, so I think the water might continue to rise. We're fairly high up, so I think we'll be ok, but I think the units down near the filed are in trouble.

I don't know what happened to the fence and plantings at our plot, but I'm going to go ahead and assume they're all gone, based on how fast the water was flowing.

Here's the schematic of our plot now:

I'm not sure what it will look like once the water falls, so I'm not sure if I'll replant. right now, I'm a little shocked.

Goodbye dear garden, we barely knew ye.

[More pictures of the devastation on Flickr]

An Open Call to our Former Plants

I was going to put my sunflowers in the ground this morning. Then I saw that the temp was 45 degrees at noon and that there was a chance of a frost and snow overnight, so I didn't. It's almost May.

In light of this delay, I started thinking of all the plants we had in Portland, but which we gave away right before we left: the hot-pepper plant, the strawberry pot full of succulents, all the spider plants and mother-in-law tongues, the aloe, the fig trees, the jades, etc.

I was wondering how all these plants are doing. I know some of the people that read this have some of them, so I'm looking for updates. I know one of the fig trees was planted in the ground, but is it still alive? Maybe bearing fruit? Did the succulents grow and multiply as fast as they did 2 winters ago? Is the pepper plant still alive, providing wonderful little hot peppers?

So let me know in the comments if you know how our plants are doing. The memories will get me past the snow tonight.

Not more winter....

It appears I spoke too soon. We woke up a few times in the night to the sound of rocks bouncing off the roof, and eventually I concluded that it was hail. Then, it turned to snow. It's still snowing now. We're predicted to end up with 3-5 inches.

On Sunday it was so warm that we decided to begin our spring planting!

This is the view outside my window now:
Will it ever end?

Happy Spring!!!

(note that this post was originally composed on Monday 3/24, see the post above this one for an update)

Although we still have forecasts of more snow in our future spring has arrived. The robins are out in force, pulling worms and antagonizing the little "chickadees" (I'm not sure exactly what the little ones are). As I went to bed last night, it was gently snowing and this morning we woke to a white Easter Sunday. But even so, the grass is beginning to turn green and there's a promise of spring everywhere.

Mom came to visit over part of this last week (my spring break) and got to see some sunshine mixed with her snow. By the time she left, she was tired of hearing me describe the weather as "balmy"! It was in the high 40s and 50s most days.

While Mom was here, we took a road trip out east and explored a new part of the state. Note that the more of you who visit, the more excuses I'll have to leave my desk and see something new! I'll let Mom speak for herself, but I thought it was a very interesting and pleasant road trip.

We drove out to the Mississippi River and wound our way up the Old River Road. We were both quite surprised to see icebergs floating in the river in Davenport. Slightly north, in the quaint town of Le Claire, we tried to go view one of the locks. Evidently, many (most?) of the locks are now closed to visitors (perhaps a result of 9-11) but we entertained ourselves watching the river and the ice.
That is, until we noticed the GIANT bald eagle perched right above our heads. Seriously folks- this bird was enormous! We then explored a little path and found more evidence of the giant birds- these little fish were scattered all over- even in the trees.

Apparently, we had happened upon a huge bald eagle migratory area, albeit 2 months late. One of these years I'm definitely bundling up and heading out in January to see hundreds of bald eagles.

We wandered our way north even more, driving through small towns, visiting antique stores (but not buying anything!), and talking all the way. We decided Saturday morning that we were going to go as far as Dubuque and made a reservation in a B&B for the night. The proprietress encouraged us to arrive by 5 as to not miss the main event: the St. Patrick's Day parade down Main Street.

The B&B was in a lovely old mansion built by a lead baron (or was it lumber?). The town of Dubuque is very historic and used to lay claim to the highest number of millionaires per capita in the nation. It's also a very scenic viewpoint of the Mississippi River. We got in at 4:30, enough time to get the tour of the B&B, enjoy a glass of wine, and wander out onto the wraparound deck before the parade started. And what a parade it was! It is the epitome of the small town parade, with a few cars, the vans for the local radio stations, some people throwing candy, and a group of people and their dogs all walking in it. Everyone had on green, of course. And there were two St Pats on rollerblades!

After the parade, drained from the excitement, we had to contemplate dinner. We discussed going to this place- due to the family connection.

However, we decided that modern Iowan food was more our style and ended up in a lovely little bistro. We even shared warm bread pudding for dessert. Yum!

I must confess here that the prime reason for picking this B&B was the fact that it had two house cats on the premises. In fact, we even requested one of the cat's favorite rooms. Well, little Cindy did indeed decide to spend part of the night with us, curled up beneath the comforter at the foot of the bed.

She was quite happy there until my phone rang at almost 2am to warn me of a gunman on campus (several hundred miles away). This turned out to be okay. Mom and I slept fitfully after that harsh awakening. We were rewarded in the morning with unbelievable omelettes: brie and pears. It sounded beyond weird to me, but turned out to be fantastic.

We spent the morning exploring the National Mississippi River Museum & Aquarium . It's an amazing place that even has a touching pool! Woo hoo! We were amazed by the fact that that the Mississippi River is frozen over .
In fact, there were even fish frozen into the water . I wonder why they couldn't escape to deeper waters.

So, all in all, we had an exciting fantastic trip though Eastern Iowa. Come visit and we'll take you somewhere cool too!

Has to be Done

I don't like it when people complain about the weather. There's nothing we can do to control it, unless you count slowly and systematically destroying the atmosphere through the burning of fossil fuels for industrial purposes to fundamentally change the atmosphere and, thus, weather patterns. Of course, I occassionally do a little complaining, but that has more to do with my Italian upbringing, where complaining is a way of life (I like to call it 'critical observation'), not necessarily a reflection of how annoying something actually is.

But then, I saw this post over at kch's place. And I got really annoyed. Or sad. Or mad. Not with kch, but with this crazy Midwest weather.

Wanna know why? Here's why: On the same day kari and co up in Portland are enjoying 'fake-spring,' the weather here in the middle is just messing with us. Take, for instance, yesterday:

The day starts out real nice, so you decide you'll spend some time outside. It's 65 degrees out and you go for a walk in the park with short sleeves on. All the snow is melting and you think you actually might see some green grass. If you imagine hard enough, you can even imagine leaves and green buds on those gray, sad trees. A couple hours later, when you get home, the temp drops 20 degrees in an hour and it starts sleeting outside. Then the thunder and lightning start. During a sleet storm. In March. Then, it drops another 20 degrees when the sun goes down. The snow starts coming down like you live on Hoth. By the time you go to bed, all that kind-of-green grass that was poking through the melted snow- remember that? - well, it's gone. It's covered in 4 inches of snow. 4 INCHES OF SNOW in, like, 30 minutes. When you wake up, the car is covered in half an inch of ice, with an additional 6 inches of light, dusty snow - you know the consistency, the one where when you brush it, it just goes straight up in the air and then down the neck of your jacket or back on the car.

Yes, I grew up in New England, where the weather swings are just as monumental. And I went to school in a place that was so cold that the 6th Great Lake would freeze over. But I moved to the NW, where the Goldilocks weather turned me into a giant weather-wuss. You could go hiking in January. And play Ultimate Frisbee year round. And the rhododendrons and dogwoods are probably already in bloom. And you could grow rosemary year round without having to worry abou tit freezing to death.

And now, I have to deal with this Midwest weather. The wind whips through constantly, creating snow drifts so high I'm worried Kimberly might disappear. We haven't been snow-free since Thanksgiving, which, let me remind you, was in NOVEMBER.

Hopefully, once this cold streak ends - which, I hope might happen by June - we'll get 2 or 3 months of nice weather before the heat and 90% humidity kick in. Meanwhile, in the Northwest, they'll be enjoying 85 dry degrees, blue skies, and not a vision of rain for 3 solid months.

Yes, I'm going stir-crazy.

Dunes

If I look out the bedroom window, I see drifts of white. The wind has been fierce, and I can watch it sculpt the drifts, creating the undercut that makes them look like waves as they are about to crash. The wind picks up the top layer and blows it into the air. The small particles sparkle and swirl, showing the patterns of the wind.

If I squint just right, I can almost convince myself that I'm standing by the ocean. Even the cold isn't quite wrong, standing outside waiting for the bus it's almost like the coast. Those early spring days, where it looks so lovely outside and then it turns out to be soooooo cold. It's like that but colder, much much colder.

The snow is often so beautiful. It's so cold here that the snow isn't flakey or lumpy but instead it's tiny granules. They shine and I actually need my sunglasses here. They also sting just like the sand as they just get blasted towards all exposed skin.

The comparison falls apart quickly but, in a way, it brings me a little comfort to pretend, just for a minute, that I'm home.

Exhaust: Good for the Environment

The past two days, the high, the HIGH, has been about 258 degrees Kelvin (or 5 Fahrenheit. You might remember from Chemistry class that Absolute Zero = 0 Kelvin = -273 Celsius = -459 Fahrenheit). At night, the temp has reached a balmy -9 F; you can actually see the cold air moving our curtains on the windows. Fortunately, we are inside and usually nestled under our electric blanket.

I don't write this to complain, although I've barely left the house in the last 48 hours. I am mentioning this because of something we've noticed lately.

We were sitting in a bar the other night, looking out the window, drinking a beer, when I noticed that one of the cars parked outside had smoke coming out of its tailpipe. Since the wind was blowing snow all around, we weren't sure if it was exhaust, meaning the car was running, or if it was just an illusion. Kimberly assessed that the car was running, since the snow on the hood of the car was all melted. I thought that was crazy; I know we're in Iowa, but wouldn't someone drive off with the car, a drunk college kid or something?

At least an hour later, a guy from the bar walked right out to the car, stepped in, out it in gear, and drove away. Apparently, he left the car running so that it would be warm inside when he needed to leave. Peculiar.

Over the last couple of days, I've noticed unoccupied cars idling all over the place - the grocery store, outside the coffee shop, the gym.

So I have to wonder: do people here leave their cars running so that they're not cold when they get back in them? And are people really that nice here; I've definitely seen some homeless people around, so why wouldn't they just take a car? Do you need to carry 2 keys with you to keep the car running, but lock the door? Doesn't gas cost a lot? I grew up and went to school in some really cold places, and I'm pretty sure this wasn't common there; or was it and I just didn't notice? Or maybe a lot of people here have automatic starters (a good idea), and I've just happened to walk past all the cars just after they were started?

If anyone has any insight on this, I'd love to hear about it, because I think it's really kind of weird that there are all these cars running with no one inside them here.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

So, this snow thing. It's going to stop soon, right?

No?

It's snowing again today. At the moment, it's a balmy 12 degrees out (Fahrenheit) and I'm watching out my office window as the snow piles up again across campus. This makes the third dumping of snow this week. And, while it sure is nice to have all that ugly gray snow covered up by the pretty white stuff, I'm awfully tired of slipping and sliding and landing on my ass. Not fun!

Send us your warm thoughts and hot cocoa dreams...

(Finals this next week too- the end is in sight!)

Things I'll Miss About Oregon: Volume 12 [Sitka Spruce]

When we got married a few years back, we spent our 'honeymoon' on the Oregon Coast in the nice little town of Manzanita. To get out to the Coast, you head west from Portland on Highway 26, up and over the Coast Range, until you hit Canon Beach and Highway 101. Right when you come down from the Coast Range, you hit a flat spot in the road. It's along this flat spot that you will find the World's Largest Sitka Spruce tree.

We had driven out to the Coast a bunch of times. I always contemplated, but never followed through on, stopping at the Sitka Spruce. Kimberly stopped once when she was like 12. On the way home from our honeymoon, I decided to pull into the parking lot. We spent about an hour just hanging out near the tree (it was a Wednesday and we were the only ones there), taking pictures, hiking around. It was pretty fun.

Sadly, on Sunday, the world's largest Sitka Spruce finally fell.

The tree was somewhere between 700 to 750 years old. 50 years ago, it was scarred by a lightning bolt. Then last year, during another storm, a giant chunk fell off, showing that the inside was rotting. The tree toppled this past weekend.

Kimberly in front of the Sitka Spruce. You can see the scar
from the lightning strike on the tree above.

No one really knew when the tree would fall because of the rotting wood. I think most people thought it would stay up a little longer than this.

Anyways, the Sitka Spruce is gone. It's kind of a sad day.

Kimberly pretending to be a hobbit under a
neighboring tree (this is not the Sitka Spruce)