Wind Damage

So Alison and I were minding our own business downstairs about 6:30 tonight, letting a sick Jeff Reed relax when he bursts into the family room with news that there may be tornadoes on the loose. We're not in Kansas, but all good Hoosiers respect the tornado sirens, so we broke out the candles and stayed downstairs. Just as we'd gotten word thru the TV news that we should take cover, the power went out. We didn't have a battery-powered radio. It was like we were the last people on Earth.

So we did what anyone would do: we played Monopoly by candlelight. Two hours later, we still didn't have power. The wind, which had sounded just a whisper short of the fabled freight train, had died down and all was quiet. The power returned but the cable wasn't back on yet. We came upstairs. I checked the news on the laptop as soon as I could and learned that a big tree had fallen in the 56th and Carvel area. Hey, that's our area! We have a disgustingly healthy sweet gum and a sickly oak tree in our front yard, but we hadn't heard any crashes.

Jeff went to explore. It was our neighbor's (the Jansens) tree where Ali occasionally swings. A hue oak. It had fallen parallel to the house, which was lucky because it's a big-ass tree and could have taken out Mike's Superbowl ring. And maybe the kids, the cat or Beth!

I'm not saying I wanted trees to fall in my yard, but why would the wind take that beautiful oak and leave my sweet gum and its limbs full of sticky balls?! Not fair, man. Not fair.

So no need to worry: all is well on Castle Row. The Jansens will have a bit of yardwork to do, but it seem like no one was hurt. Let's hope that holds true for the rest of the path of the storm.

Update:

Apparently we were more blessed than I knew. Our street is only one block long, and the downed tree is on the west end of it. I found this morning that a power line is down at the east end of the street, and Alison's school -- maybe 1/4 or 1/2 mile away is closed. Wow. I may have to buy a lottery ticket!

PhotoShoot Sunday -- update

Alison greeted me at the door at 6:23 this morning as I came home from the gym. She was all dressed for school and had decided that if she could be ready early, we could play for a while.All of her symptoms but her cough are gone, so the weekend of laying around seemed to have done the trick.Just after she had brought up her Pet Shops ("But not all of them because I don't want to have to drag them all up just to have to take them back downstairs!") she remembered that today is "Crazy Day" at school and she didn't have to wear her uniform. So then she was off to find the craziest outfit she could put together. Jeff helped her.If there's a prize for crazy today, she should win it...I'll try to hold off on sending you the photo until next week.

Of Mice and Stomachaches

Alison went to school Friday complaining of a stomach ache. It had seemed like a scam to start the weekend early, but when I was cleaning out her backpack that night, I found a note that she’d been to the school nurse. Even though the nurse hadn’t called, I started doubting myself. She wasn’t herself, really, and said she had both a stomachache and head ache, so I kept her home from dance class and we just stayed in all of Saturday. She was finally asleep around 9:30 that night and I thought we were home free.

At about 10:30, she came in, saying she thought she was going to throw up. So I went in with her and snuggled. We put a cold cloth on her head. She was restless and clearly not feeling well, so I agreed to stay with her for a little while.

At 1:26, she woke me up again. No vomit, but not a happy girl. I wondered if I had made a strategic error by being between her and the plastic trash can I had ready for the vomit.

At 3:15, she was awake again. “Mom, I’m not sure, but I think I might have had a heart attack,” she said. I had to put my ear to her chest and assure her that it was beating fine before she snuggled back in.

At 5:26, she was wide awake. I sent her downstairs to snuggle on the couch and watch TV and collapsed back into her bed. Sweet sleep wouldn’t come, though. It sounded like Tom and Jerry (the MGM cartoon pair) were right in the room with me. Alison couldn’t hear me ask her to adjust the volume, so down I went. I was bleary-eyed, to be sure, but when I got to the family room and saw it barricaded, I thought, ‘She’s been faking the whole time!”

Then I remembered that during one of our early morning potential vomit alerts, Jeff had come in and told us that he’d been on an adventure. He’d been Tom, and the Jerry in our house had been dispatched, he proudly reported. He told us that he’d chased down the rodent and taken it outside. I’m sure I mumbled some sort of accolade for his bravery, but I was asleep again within minutes, and I’d forgotten all about it until I got downstairs and found my way to the family room blockaded.

He’d sealed off the room with screens, the interlocking spongy mats we use in lieu of carpet down there and books. He’d moved the furniture. He’d up-ended stuffed animals and sent some of the Littlest Pet Shop animals flying. Alison was sharing part of the couch with a herd of stuffed cat family members and a framed picture of Nomar Garciappara (before his defection from the Red Sox.) She was following orders to get on the couch, but she didn’t want to chance breaking the artwork, so she had snuggled in with the cats on the other end. I could barely find her in all the mess.

I can only imagine how long Jeff spent chasing the little rat and how many times he screamed like a girl in the process. I bet it was long and often. From the looks of the family room, our home invader was more Jerry-like than Jeff had counted on. I have yet to ask him if he really did catch-and-release. I think he must have. I can’t imagine him killing it, and putting it in the trash can alive would have given us both nightmares. Of course, putting it out in sub-zero temperatures probably didn’t do it much good either.

In any case, we may no longer have a mouse in our house. I tend to think they travel in packs, though, so I’m on the look-out.

After I’d put the room back together, Ali was tired of TV and challenged me to a “carnival of games.” We’d play seven board games and the person who won the most games would be the champion. There’s something disturbing about coming out the big loser against a sickly 6-year-old, but that’s what happened. I was sleep-deprived, but I managed to win only at Candyland.

Jeff the Mighty Mouse Trapper didn’t get home as soon as I’d expected this morning, so instead of letting him be victimized by Alison’s board gaming skills, I brought her along with me to a monthly brunch I have with some great girlfriends. She fell asleep in mid-sentence on the way home and hasn’t woken up since. That was two hours ago. I think I’m going to follow suit in just a minute.

Wish me luck that Jerry doesn't find a way back in and bring any of his brethren with him. I need the rest!

5 Things I Learned at Dance Class Tonight

1. If you eat a burrito (or two) 30 minutes before dance class, it will try to crawl back (from any orifice it can) out before you've finished warming up.
2. If you position yourself to be smack in the middle of where two mirrors meet, you can cut your body weight and size in half.
3. Just like high school, if you distract the teacher and let him/her tell a personal story, you'll reduce the amount of work you actually have to do.
4. Scarfing down a double cheeseburger on the way home from dance class because you were afraid to eat beforehand makes you need to find that line between the mirrors again.
5. Just like the gym, dance class is better when you're with a friend.

Oh you disbelievers!

For those of you who don't believe that real people actually consume varmints of the woods, or more pointedly, that I ever did, I give you this photographic proof. It was taken when I was about 4-years-old, I think. It was during squirrel season, of course, and we were showing off the bounty of the hunt. I'm the one closest to my Dad and apparently most proud of my catch. (The kids didn't go hunting; we just showed off the catch before they became dinner.) I'm not sure how old my brothers were before they got to go with the big boys, but from the look on Donnie's face, I'm guessing this either wasn't his year, or he'd been left behind on this particular hunt. While I've renounced squirrel, plenty of folks back home still enjoy the delicacy -- among others. I should organize a trip for all my city friends...

A joke from Alison

Q. What do you call a tick in the winter?

A. An Ar-tic.

Hahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahaha!
Come on: you know you laughed.

This just in

With apologies to Colts fans, I just reviewed Alison's Valentine that she made for her Grandpa. It has the usual heart design and notes from the granddaughter, but then she added this:

Go Pats!