Rural Electrification

Saturday, September 1, 2007
California Zephyr train, Illinois

We’re speeding across Illinois on a bumpy Amtrak train but it’s better than driving a car despite the jostling. If I was better able to nap I’d be fast asleep in no time – but I’ve only managed to fall asleep in the afternoon two or three times since Reed was born, I don’t know why. Hyper-alertness I suppose…maybe when he goes off to college I can relax again. We said goodbye to the farm this morning around 8 a.m. and drove to Ottumwa with Mom and Dad in Betty Su, and they took her back home to the farm with them after helping us get unloaded at the station.

We were at the farm almost 3 weeks, a long visit with the 3 of us there, underfoot all the time. I cooked a few times and baked several times – we made apple pies twice this week! – but still we were a lot of work for them. Walt did some branch trimming through, as well as mowing and spraying once, and painting the outside door thresholds which needed it badly. Walt did avoid spraying around the spruce where the mourning dove has her nest with two babies in it, and of course he didn’t spray the new stand of banner grass in the ditch, which is lovely and not noxious or overly invasive, although Glen doesn’t like the way it blocks his visibility and is trying to eradicate his portion of it.

Reed spent a lot of time up in Glen’s machine shed, taming two white kittens who were inclined to be friendly. He fed them and watered them and sang them songs; I hope that in France he will have some small animals in his care. The week that it rained all the time he played inside, arranging “parties” and watching edifying movies like Pollyanna on video. It’s an unusual activity for him but with the horrible weather so much of the time it helped pass the time. Yesterday as a treat I let him watch The Sound of Music for the first time ever. It was fun to see him recognize “My Favorite Things,” a song that I have sung to him regularly since he was a newborn. Reed also played his violin for Grandma Polly in Waterloo early in our stay. Then, it turned out that one of the residents of Friendship Village played violin with the Waterloo symphony from 1957 until 2004, and was first chair. So Grandma arranged for us to visit him and his wife so that Reed could play a little bit. He was reluctant but practiced for several days ahead of time nevertheless; then, when the moment arrived, this older couple was so enthusiastic and encouraging that Reed blossomed ever so slightly and played sweetly, especially on May Song and Ode to Joy when Mr. Wendt joined in for a duet. We then took G’ma to Perkins for her 92nd birthday. It is a strange thing to say goodbye to your 92 year old grandma when you know you won’t be back for an entire year, but of course I have been doing that for many years now and she is in good health. But going to Europe makes it seem like a bigger gap, I suppose.

Walt recovered from his back spasms by taking long walks and last Sunday I joined him for the first time, walking 4 miles around the “block.” Out in rural Iowa wherever it is flat, the roads are often laid out in 1 mile grids. That is especially so at our farm. Sunday we walked during the hot and windy afternoon, but on Monday we left at sunset and walked the last two miles by the light of the full moon, which rose and then hung suspended over the great expanses of corn while it cast long shadows behind us. We walked in the dark, feeling like it was the middle of the night and we were far from home; it was strangely conducive to talking about our hearts’ desires… although maybe that was the effect of Reed being back at Mom and Dad’s, getting put to bed by someone else instead of butting in on our conversation as usual.

Tuesday evening we tried to do the same thing, only a storm front was coming and we overestimated how long it would take for the storm to arrive. We set off to Alice Church to look at my relatives’ graves, and once there, realized we would be lucky to make it back before it hit. We jogged for a long way back down the gravel towards the farm, spurred on and given endurance by our fear, watching the lighting in the west get closer and brighter and more insistent, until we finally reached the highway and crossed, just as the wind hit us and the bridge of black clouds was directly overhead, and the lightning on either side of us. Suddenly I saw the sheet of rain coming towards us like a tidal wave, and within 2 seconds we were in it and completely soaked. We ran to Jacobson’s house and called Dad to come get us while we dripped on their carpet and dried off as best we could with some of their towels. Embarrassing, but as Dad drove us the ¾ of a mile back home I was glad to not be outside, which was dangerously wet and electrified. We changed into dry jammies when we got home, feeling clean, and more awake than I’d been in weeks.