Trees in the Wind

We had a major windstorm the Saturday of President's day weekend.  There were consistent windspeeds of 30 mph and gusts up to 48 mph, according to the website Ryan checked periodically during the day.  The giant tree in the driveway/parking area always loses branches during windstorms.  Always.  We have various piles of branches drying to burn once the wood is no longer green and smoky.  We do have a compost pile, but mostly burn piles.  Ryan does like to make a good bonfire.

This windstorm was the cause of two major branches breaking off the big tree.  We were indoors playing games in the afternoon when we heard a loud crack and then the sound of debris hitting the windows.  One branch down. But not really, it was high enough that it only sat on top of another branch.  Later as we heard more suspicious noises, we watched at the window as another big branch came crashing down. We couldn’t park where we normally do.  In fact, I haven’t parked next to the house in months because we have been worried about the tree falling and hitting the van, so we’ve been parking between the not-garage and the pig pen.  But we couldn’t even park there with the branch in the way, and I disliked walking under the standing part of tree to even get to the front door.  We listened to the tree creak, crackle, groan, and pop.  Elizabeth’s bedroom faces the front, and she couldn’t sleep with all the noises she heard.  I had her turn on a fan to provide some white noise, frigid temperatures or not.  Out of all of my kids, Elizabeth is the most scared and worried about natural disasters, and here was proof that something bad was going to happen.

To be clear, knowing that we were going to have a windstorm and our tree likes to shed, we had parked as far away from the house as possible as to not get stuck behind the tree should it fall down.  We almost always do that for windstorms.

Sunday night, Ryan decided that he just needed to cut the front part of the tree down.  It was going to fall over sometime, and it might as well happen now.  Monday was President’s Day, and therefore a no school day.  What a perfect time to cut giant hunks of wood and move them off the driveway.  Monday morning dawned clear and cold.  Our expected high for the day was 34 degrees.  At 9 am, Ryan went outside to get our 16 inch chainsaw running.  Around 9:30 I put jeans over my pj pants, and snow pants on top of the jeans, a sweatshirt, a coat, wool socks, hat, winter gloves, and my snow boots.  It was mid-20 degrees outside and I don’t like being cold.  I told Ryan to tell me before he started cutting down the tree.  I wanted to be outside in case of trouble, being the worry wart that I am.  Emma was the only one who watched from the house.  The rest of us braved the cold.  We made sure the cars were WELL out of the way.

Ryan cut a V in the front of the tree trunk, and then sprinted away in the opposite direction.  We watched in some suspense for several minutes, listening to the increased creaks and pops.  Ryan said he could feel rumblings in the ground, but the tree refused to go down.  I can only compare what happened next to a game of Chicken.  Ryan had the chainsaw idling during this time, so he got the chain going, stabbed the tree, and ran away.  More noises, but no visible movement.  Again, stab and run away.  Nothing new.  Once more, he stabbed the tree, ran away, and the tree came down.  The top of the tree hit the flower garden space in front of the house, but the house was unhurt.  (Our driveway is a different story.)

Now, it was work time.  The girls and I hauled the branches Ryan cut into two giant piles, one on either side of the tree.  Emma got out of some of the work because of some excuse about the Grease dress rehearsal… blah blah blah.  😉 The other three petered out after lunch, but Ryan and I kept going and pretty much got the driveway picked up.  Don’t get me wrong, there are HUGE piles of branches and Ryan wasn’t sure how to get the last branch completely disengaged from the tree with his smaller size chain saw, but we could get to the front door.

(Ryan pulling the top branch off with his truck) 

As cleaned up as we could get it on Monday.  It doesn't look like much, but this was hours of sawing and hauling wood.  

The next plan of attack was to see if we could borrow The Dog to haul the branches away.  It was going to take about 50 trips (give or take) to get them hauled away in Ryan’s truck, and the truck affectionately known as The Dog was sitting alone and available.  The tabs were expired, and the battery was dead, but would we let that stand in the way?  Never!  The owner had been our home teacher before he passed away from cancer, and his wife hadn't taken it with her when she moved away late last year.  Wednesday, Ryan walked in with the registration and cash (and permission to do so), and walked out again with tabs.  No one asked for ID or his name, and so no one was the wiser.

First load!  

And no, we are not going to wait months for this wood to dry so we can burn it.  Besides, I'd be worried about starting the field of winter dry weeds next door on fire.

Meow Mix

I was talking to my Grandma the other day, talking about our many adventures as a family.  She asked if I was writing any of them down.  Um, does posting a picture and a sentence or two on Instagram count?  I'm by no means a great photographer, but between Instagram and Chatbooks, I figure the highlights are being recorded and printed.  But she's right.  It's not the same thing.  The funny thing is, the girls LOVE reading the old blog books that I've had printed.  They love the pictures, the funny stories about themselves, and it really does help keep those stories and memories alive.  

So, I am going to try to write on my blog again.  We'll see how long I can keep it going.  Writing has been a good outlet for me in the past.  It's good to articulate these thoughts and feelings I have rumbling around in my brain. 

Today I volunteered in Maddie's class.  It's Dr. Suess week, and her class of 3rd graders combined with a class of 1st graders for a Reader's Cafe for roughly a half hour.  I was supposed to be at Maddie's class around 10 am, and at 8:59 am I got a text from Maddie's teacher asking me to pick up some last minute supplies.  Namely, 3 boxes of Capri Suns and a bag of large plastic cups.  I had an idea that might be the case, as this is not the first time I've been sent on supplies errands, so I was dressed before I dropped Annie and Maddie off for school.  

I made it to Walmart at about 9:40, figuring I could pick up a couple of extra things like shampoo and more hair rubber bands while I was there.  I made a beeline for the drinks and cups, and then ran into a friend.  I am often tongue tied around people and try to run away after the initial "How are you" pleasantries have been exchanged.  But Chantel is a good enough friend that I feel like I can converse.  Until I checked my phone and realized I had 7 minutes to check out and drive myself over to the school.  I had better run.  Hopefully there are no long check out lines.

I made it over to the school, got signed in, and was waylaid by the secretaries.  "Are you working tomorrow and would you be willing to help with our school Book Swap tomorrow?  Which of these 5 times would be good for you?  How about these three times?  Yes?"  I had my standard Thursday answer of I can only be there until 2:30 because it's piano lesson day.  I have been around volunteering and substituting long enough for the secretaries to be able to write both my first and last name without asking for help.  This both pleases and scares me.  There's the part of me that likes to be noticed, and then there's the other more vocal part of me that is anxious that someone will put me on the spot making me feel awkward and I will later mentally kick myself for not sounding like an intellegent adult.  Sometimes hiding in the corner is the safest, if rather lonely, place to be.

I finally make it to Maddie's classroom, with really no idea what my job will be.  Mrs. S wants me to make a Pinterest recipe she found for Meow Mix.  It's to go with the Splat the Cat books the kids would be reading to their 1st grade partners.  I was given a large mug for melting marshmallows in the microwave, and bags of pretzels, popcorn, Lucky Charms, Chex mix, and M&Ms to mix all together.  That didn't sound too bad.  I've made rice crispy treats before.  This could be awkward (yay, my speciality!) but doable.  I have one giant bowl, two large bowls and a large plastic stirring spoon.  So I dump in a whole lot of stuff in the bowl and blob my microwaved marshmallows in after.  Good heavens, what a sticky mess.  In the process of stirring, food is falling out of my bowl.  It's too full.  So I try to dump some in one of the large bowls so I have more room for stirring.  I've got marshmallow goo in giant globs and it isn't spreading all over the Meow Mix  Mess very evenly.  So I try to jam the plastic spoon in the middle of the globs, and by this time I have melted marshmallow on my hands.  This just keeps getting better and better.  If not for my height, I could be mistaken for a messy 3rd grader at this point.  More melted marshmallow is just what this situation calls for because darn it, I am going to make Meow Mix.  This time I make dollops of the sticky substance around the bowl, which does work better.  But I still have pretzels in the bottom of the bowl that are not getting stuck to its counterparts.  I grab my sticky Meow mix with my sticky hands and transfer it to another bowl.  I added more popcorn, etc. to the bowl (only going halfway full this time, see I can learn from experience) and then more blobs of goo spaced around the mix.  It's going a little better now, and I'm really hoping the two teachers in the room are not conversing about the weird mom in the back of the room who can't handle herself like a competent adult.  Like when she came in on Valentine's Day to make lumpy pudding for the class.  In my defense, I was given the same plastic stirring spoon and big bowl, and surely everyone knows pudding doesn't get smooth without the use of powered kitchen tools.  Right?  Or is this just another one of those things I personally need to work on because it's never worked for me or my kids?  (Cue music, "Whip It, Whip It Good.")

I made Maddie up her own special cup of Meow Mix when I was done serving the rest of the class, with no popcorn or marshmallows.  Her palate expander is making her 3rd grade snack life hard.