After meeting today, I went to get some tea and then for a walk with a friend and his sons.
Let's get a coconut! My friend's 11 year old son said to his dad.
Okay, let's get a coconut.
Thus began our downtown IC hunting trip to find a coconut. With only two grocers in walking distance of downtown, we tried our luck at the least likely market to find a coconut. To our surprise, they had shrink wrapped coconuts. Perfect. However, icepicks and mallets are not usually toted in ones bag. So, after purchasing the coconut, we went to the deli counter to ask for assistance, handed over the coconut and asked the fit young man to help us out. He looked at the coconut like, well... we had just asked him to crack a coconut. Not sure where to begin he pulled out various sharp knives and began stabbing and drilling into the coconut. Interesting thing about coconuts is that one being cracked draws attention. Everyone wants to be a part of the experience. Before long four men formed a train and followed each other through the kitchen offering suggestions, wanting to be part of the action. After about 10 minutes, we exited the market with one cup of coconut milk and three chunks of ice white coconut. We sat outside and snacked on fresh coconut.
The serendipity of children's suggestions is inspiring. The experience in and of itself was a fabulous birthday present.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Peter's Blog
Introducing a special new blog. Many of you have heard of my friend Peter in Kenya. His mission is to provide education for girls in is homeland. Being the dedicated and driven individual he is, he started this blog...
http://peterscause.blogspot.com/
Peter is a remarkable young man and I encourage you to visit his blog and look at the pictures and read about Peter, his family and his mission.
http://peterscause.blogspot.com/
Peter is a remarkable young man and I encourage you to visit his blog and look at the pictures and read about Peter, his family and his mission.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Tornado Season
My sister reminded me that when I was in Denver I always longed for Midwestern storms. And I admit, I missed the hearty storms that rumbled for hours on end. It was something I anticipated as I moved back to Iowa.
Midwesterners are unique when it comes to storms. When I lived in New Jersey, people would ask about Kansas tornadoes. I'd entertain them with stories of how Manhattanites would go outside to watch the storm approach- maybe with a beer in hand. We always figured we had fair warning if we needed to run inside. By fair warning, I mean actual spotting, not the warning siren.
That is why I wasn't really surprised when the following events happened at my softball double-header this evening. Prior to gametime, we all were watching the radar on one woman's cell phone (technology is amazing) and wondering if we could at least play the first game. We analyzed cloud patterns like true armchair meterologists, watching the clouds twirl and wring any daylight out of the sky.
As the home team took the field and our first batter stepped to the plate, the sirens started. Now, this... this is what I always find fascinating. Everyone looked around as if someone would direct us how to procede. Several players wanted to...play on! (Afterall, we don't SEE a tornado!) Some were understandably (I included) reluctant to play with sirens sounding. The ump was going to have none of it and called the game. The first group of players tried to coax the ump to continue the game. The official for the league ran over and called the game OFFICIALLY. Game over.
Once the sirens subsided, an unusual tune blaired through the air. The ice cream truck was trying to drum up business in the parking lot. "Its a Small World" whined from the speakers. Really? What kind of icecream truck sells popsicles during a tornado warning? But, no tornado was spotted so... why not try to sell an icecream sandwhich or two?
Once I got home, I prepared myself and my apartment for bad weather; charged my cell phone, got out my emergency kit (lovingly given to me for Christmas from my sister,) took the emergency radio and flashlight out of their packaging and learned how to use them. I logged onto my computer and started streaming local weather. The clouds were unmistakeable- with talons and claws that reminded me of Chinese dragons. Except, these figures were not auspicious.
The severest of weather was shy of here and now we are just (just?) under a flash flood warning. Tis the season.
Midwesterners are unique when it comes to storms. When I lived in New Jersey, people would ask about Kansas tornadoes. I'd entertain them with stories of how Manhattanites would go outside to watch the storm approach- maybe with a beer in hand. We always figured we had fair warning if we needed to run inside. By fair warning, I mean actual spotting, not the warning siren.
That is why I wasn't really surprised when the following events happened at my softball double-header this evening. Prior to gametime, we all were watching the radar on one woman's cell phone (technology is amazing) and wondering if we could at least play the first game. We analyzed cloud patterns like true armchair meterologists, watching the clouds twirl and wring any daylight out of the sky.
As the home team took the field and our first batter stepped to the plate, the sirens started. Now, this... this is what I always find fascinating. Everyone looked around as if someone would direct us how to procede. Several players wanted to...play on! (Afterall, we don't SEE a tornado!) Some were understandably (I included) reluctant to play with sirens sounding. The ump was going to have none of it and called the game. The first group of players tried to coax the ump to continue the game. The official for the league ran over and called the game OFFICIALLY. Game over.
Once the sirens subsided, an unusual tune blaired through the air. The ice cream truck was trying to drum up business in the parking lot. "Its a Small World" whined from the speakers. Really? What kind of icecream truck sells popsicles during a tornado warning? But, no tornado was spotted so... why not try to sell an icecream sandwhich or two?
Once I got home, I prepared myself and my apartment for bad weather; charged my cell phone, got out my emergency kit (lovingly given to me for Christmas from my sister,) took the emergency radio and flashlight out of their packaging and learned how to use them. I logged onto my computer and started streaming local weather. The clouds were unmistakeable- with talons and claws that reminded me of Chinese dragons. Except, these figures were not auspicious.
The severest of weather was shy of here and now we are just (just?) under a flash flood warning. Tis the season.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Later
Evidently, I wasn't the only one who needed to get out of the apartment. I bumped into a classmate at the pool and we shared a lane. She, too, was steamed out of her apartment and decided to go for a swim. Between laps we talked of ice cream and air conditioning. I forwent the usual post-swim sauna visit and just walked outside instead.
This sucks
It is miserable here. The humidity is stifling. There was no warning, we were all caught off guard. The bank thermometer read 91 degrees. The heat is not the problem, the humidity on the other hand, is palpable.
I couldn't even eat dinner in my apartment so I went out to eat.
The last thing I want to do was wash dishes in hot water.
This sucks...
I couldn't even eat dinner in my apartment so I went out to eat.
The last thing I want to do was wash dishes in hot water.
This sucks...
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Ahhhh....summer!
To live in Iowa is to appreciate the simple things. Really, you MUST be able to appreciate the simple things. Last night the simple enjoyment was a free showing of Cool Runnings. While waiting for the showing, I worked on some knitting. Ahhh.... summer.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Visitors
My folks came to visit this weekend. Friday, we found ourselves savoring homemade cinnamon rolls in Kalona and bobbing in and out of the main street shops. It is a cute town not to far from IC with a unique mix of midwest, Mennonite and Amish culture. I realize I, like many Americans, have a romanticized view of the Amish. There is a longing for simple ways, for evenings by lamplight, for sewing my own clothes, and harvesting and preparing of meals I and the earth helped cultivate. I realize it might be a whimsical wish, but how nice it would be, just for a little while, to live in such close community with others and with the land.
This is what I love about Iowa, the spring-green rolling hills and trees stitching the land to the sky. Lazy summer clouds hover above like a mobile, inviting you to recline back in the grass for a summer snooze.
I had to make a quick "phone call" at the cheese factory to tell Katherine and Sarah to hurry back to Iowa!
My parents brought me the first fruits from their garden. A lone green pepper- as small as it was tasteful. Not the sweetest bell pepper one has eaten, but it is early in the season. My dad said the plant probably put all of its energy into squeezing out one cute pepper since the plant was only about a foot tall!
For the record, Iowa City is an amazing place over the summer. Once the undergrads returned to their respective summer homes, and the average age of Iowa City increases by about ten years, it morphs into delightful city. Not, that it is not a nice city during the rest of the year, but during the summer, Iowa City's identity reemerges as it is not smothered by the university's presence. It gets to be its own city and have its own three months to shine.
This is what I love about Iowa, the spring-green rolling hills and trees stitching the land to the sky. Lazy summer clouds hover above like a mobile, inviting you to recline back in the grass for a summer snooze.
I had to make a quick "phone call" at the cheese factory to tell Katherine and Sarah to hurry back to Iowa!
My parents brought me the first fruits from their garden. A lone green pepper- as small as it was tasteful. Not the sweetest bell pepper one has eaten, but it is early in the season. My dad said the plant probably put all of its energy into squeezing out one cute pepper since the plant was only about a foot tall!
For the record, Iowa City is an amazing place over the summer. Once the undergrads returned to their respective summer homes, and the average age of Iowa City increases by about ten years, it morphs into delightful city. Not, that it is not a nice city during the rest of the year, but during the summer, Iowa City's identity reemerges as it is not smothered by the university's presence. It gets to be its own city and have its own three months to shine.
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