Ice Storm Photos

Posted on April 23, 2013 by gretcheno

This is what we woke up to the morning after the lights went out. All the following ice photos are from that first day – all taken through our windows. The snow photos were the second day, mostly also from our windows. Finally, on the third day, we went outside as a family and saw the damage first hand.

The climbing tree, broken branches frozen to the ground

Surveying the backyard.

The pine trees were like Narnia – only the bad, evil witch part of Narnia.

A few shots around town.

The golf course.

Not exactly a safe place to play right now. I have heard many reports of eye injuries as people clean up the branches all over town.

Yes, this is a power pole. Or should I say, was.

Nothing but splintered remains and criss-crossed lines.

Horray!

Our saviors from Wadena.

And so the clean up begins.

I apologize for not posting these photos sooner…I couldn’t look at them without feeling ill. Seriously. I had to avoid them for a few days to get a little perspective.

The following is what I wrote on Wednesday morning, after the lights came on the night before. Allow me add that the power was back out on Wednesday night for a few hours, but that was because of a tremendous thunderstorm and lightning hitting a transformer…just what we all needed, right? It is Monday night now, almost one week later, and again we’re having snow and wind like crazy. It has been a wild couple of weeks that I really don’t want to re-live. On the good side, people were safe and there were very few injuries – mostly the injuries came later with damage to eyes when people were out cleaning up fallen branches. There are some streets that look like tunnels, the piles of branches are so huge. This will take weeks to clean up…months, perhaps. And years to get back our trees.

HOW MANY TIMES DO WE FLIP ON A LIGHTSWITCH WHILE LOOKING FOR A FLASHLIGHT WHICH WE NEED BECAUSE THE LIGHTS ARE OFF?!!! I think that everyone has done this in their lives.

So many switches were on in our house, and that’s how I knew the power had come back on because there were suddenly lights!

We’ve put away the flashlights. The dishes are gently rocking on the Anti-Bacterial setting in my dishwasher. A load of towels is “cooking” on high heat. I turned on my electric blanket last night, just because I could.

But the TV? You know, I kinda didn’t mind not having the TV on. Not having the internet bummed me out, I admit. But I really don’t have to compulsively check Facebook every half hour in order to be happy.

I tell you what does make me happy, though. Three men from Wadena, Minnesota – a town about 5 hours north of here – who restored our power last night, just two hours shy of one week exactly from when it went out. (The oven clock came back on and read 9:06 – it picked up right where it had left – almost as if time itself had stopped. As if the past week never happened.)

I looked up Wadena on my newly-restored internet and discovered that this town of 4,000ish suffered a terrible E-F 4 tornado three years ago. In other words, these men know what it is to suffer at the hand of nature. They know what it’s like to need help from others. They came down to my town so that they could give back what they received.

I told them, “Thanks for leaving your homes and your families to come down and lend us a hand.” They shrugged and mumbled and waved for my camera.

I am not usually given to dancing. But I danced last night.

Suddenly everything seems possible.

THANK YOU, Mr. Electric Man!

Posted on April 16, 2013 by gretcheno

Still no electricity. Furnace is acting up because it doesn’t like the generator. The cost of a storm like this is in more than just dollars. It’s in sanity.

Here’s some statistics I heard this morning. I know there are more and perhaps better ones, but this gives you an idea. (I appologize if these numbers are incorrect – this is what I’ve heard as of Tuesday morning.)

One hardware store in this town of 12,000 people has sold $177,000.00 in chainsaws and generators over the past week. That’s just one of the half a dozen or so hardware stores in town.

As of Tuesday morning 991 homes are still without power.

2,000 power poles snapped or otherwise are unusable.

120 linemen have come to help us out, from across Minnesota and even, I believe, from South Dakota. The hotel parking lots (at night only!) are solid with power trucks. The image of all those trucks made me cry. We are so thankful for all that is being done to get us back into the 21st century!

I know, I know – we can live without electricity. We’ve proven that this week. But it sure is nice.

Here’s my daughter’s take on the storm – in her exact words:

Electricity. A necessity we take for granted. The power has been out for 6 days and it still is.

We had a HUGE ICE STORM. Plus we had a SNOWSTORM after that!

There are MANY trees down, all over the place.

Having the power out is scary. Mr. Al Oberloh [the mayor of Worthington] said, “Worthington will never look the same again.” I agree.

I live in the country, so we didn’t have rolling blackouts [as they had in town]. We just had no electricity at all. Our power lines are [broken down] and buried underneath lots of snow.

I believe that the electricity people are pretty AWESOME. They worked for like 24 hours straight to get power back on [for those in town].

The power went out at like 9:00 Tuesday night. It’s still out. Oh well. They have to get other pepole before us.

I think that I will remember this forever.

THANK YOU, ELECTRIC PEOPLE!!!

By Katie O’Donnell. Age 11

Ice, Snow, Devastation and a Kazoo Band

Posted on April 13, 2013 by gretcheno

There are moments in your life that you never forget. When I am old and wrinkled and more gray even than I am now, I will remember this week with tears, with smiles, and, possibly, with laughter.

My son asked me if, like with hurricanes, they name Midwestern Ice Storms. I told him that we didn’t rate that high on the weatherman’s scale.

“But it’s so bad!” he pointed out.

“Yes, it is,” I replied with a wry smile.

It really is so bad.

April usually is a time to anticipate bulbs poking out of the earth, to dig out asparagus recipes, to watch the daily progression of the leaves on the trees, the birds returning to the upper Midwest.

Not this year.

For those who don’t know, Tuesday night, April 9th, 2013, Worthington, Minnesota and the surrounding area experienced a terrible ice storm which left about 1.5 inches of ice on the trees, followed by 8+ inches of snow on Wednesday night. I live out in the country on ten acres of trees and stream and farmland. We lost electricity Tuesday night. Still don’t have it back as of Saturday afternoon. We have a generator – a reliable one – as of Friday night. The one we had, which came with our house 8 years ago, had never been put to the test before. Sure, we’d used it a few times for a few hours – but nothing like this.

It failed the test.

So finally, last night, my husband forked over $700 for a brand-new (and much quieter) one, so that we can have heat and toilets that flush and food that won’t give us food poisoning.

Can’t wash our clothes. Can’t run the dishwasher. No internet. No TV. (My son’s comment on these terrible facts: “Mom, what did you and Dad DO all day when you were kids?”)

But all of that pales in comparison with what’s happened outside of our windows.

Total tree devastation. It’s a war zone, a bombing site, an unrecognizable horizon.

And no, I have no photos for you yet – not until I get power back and can download all of my photos onto my PC. I’m in town right now, at my favorite hang-out, BenLees Café. It’s a refuge here from the sadness out my window.

My kids have named all of their favorite trees. There’s the Hosanna Tree, so named because its leaves resemble the palm fronds on Palm Sunday. (I think it will survive.) There’s the Shady Tree aka the Climbing Tree. It’s our favorite. My girls and I cried yesterday when we stood in front of it. I don’t think there’s any way it will survive. And then there’s Mr. and Mrs. Maple Tree – Mrs. Tree is doomed. Mr. Tree might make it – but it looks like he got a terrible hair cut.

And then there are 100 more trees – give or take – which have suffered the indignities of a very angry giant stomping through our yard and tearing twigs and branches off and throwing them willy-nilly all over the yard.

At least that’s what it feels like.

And sounded like.

Oy, vey, the sounds of the crackling ice when you stood outside in the silence of zero electricity. It was almost like running water, only then you realized that everything was frozen and it was just the constant crack of ice on trees as they blew in the wind.

And the sounds indoors: nothing. Utter, unimaginable, silence.

Until the generator goes on!

But there have also been sounds of laughter. Of a fire in the grate, of games played, of a Kazoo Band, and of 30 year old cassettes wallowing on my 30 year old tape player. (“Turn it off, Mom! It’s creepy!”)

And then there was the sound of tree limbs tearing, of thunder smashing right overhead, of a little girl learning to tie her shoes, running to tell Daddy when he walked in the door and his exclamations of pride.

Yes, I will look back on this with tears and smiles someday.

Someday.

PS – I will have photos for you – probably more than you could ever hope for – as soon as I can. I’m sure I’ll write more about it, too. There is so much to process – to think through and put into words – I know I’m not yet finished.

I Dream an Ocean

Posted on February 4, 2013 by gretcheno

I live on the prairie, but I was born near the sea.
On rocky shores and tidepools I cut my teeth.
And it is never far from my mind.

So I give you this today – a poem, I suppose – because I can’t stop remembering.

I Imagine an Ocean

I pretend, sometimes, that the field to the east of my house is the sea. I imagine that the brown slopes are actually undulating waves; that the trees far off on the edge of the hill are trees on an island, waving their branches in a salt-scented breeze.

Not palm trees – no thank you – these are pine trees, the trees of my childhood, the trees of Puget Sound with their balsamic scent (Does that word work here? I choose to say it does.) and their sticky sap just waiting its turn to enfold unsuspecting bees which, in their amber prisons, will fascinate scientists millennia from now.

I imagine my prairie ocean with the most success when it’s foggy and I cannot see the dirt. Then it’s easy to see phantom many-masted ships, their sails set and their scuppers gleaming. Or, more likely in these days, scurrying speed-boats, as we used to call them, their purpose apparently nothing more than making waves and scaring seagulls.

I imagine I am on a tall cliff – not unlike that of my youth – and I – why not? – a lighthouse keeper, a fog-horn blaster, the sole protector of sailor’s lives. Their one and only defense against a watery grave.

Would that I had been there for the Edmund Fitzgerald.

In the autumn when combines, like ships in the night, roam the sloping shores of my imagined ocean, I sit out on the deck and savor the sight: I am in a valued port, a sheltered haven where HMS John Deere tacks back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, in her attempts to reach safe harbor. I wave and shout, “Ahoy!” but the good ship cannot hear me over the chugging of her engines and she carries on – back and forth, back and forth, until, finally, she sails away, taking her fleet with her.

And I am left on deck, with nothing but my dried-up ocean, my memory of water, the scent of salt-spray tickling at my throat.

Bonus: For those of you who don’t know my reference, The Edmund Fitzgerald was an ore ship which sank in a storm on Lake Superior on November 10, 1975. All 29 men in the crew perished. This video link is of a great song, by Gordon Lightfoot, titled, the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. The video is entirely footage of Lake Superior, the wreck itself, and with the song as the background.

Yes, I realize that I referenced a fresh-water incident in my salt-water poem…but it’s the ship which comes to mind when living in Minnesota! In addition, I must say that I did not mean to be flippant about the wreck…it was a heart-breaking incident and remains, to this day, the largest ship ever to be lost on Lake Superior.

Brief Reflections on this Frigid Winter Day

Posted on January 24, 2013 by gretcheno

My nose is cold. So are my feet. I’m wearing two pairs of socks, but I’m foolishly sitting by a sliding glass door and it’s two degrees out with a wind chill of minus seven. I suppose I ought to move, but if I do then I’ll see the dishes that need washing and the clothes that need folding. Perhaps I’ll just stay here and be chilly.

After 19 years in the Mid-West, I still can’t get used to the deep freeze months. Even weirder is how it can be 40 degrees one day and high of zero the next – and I don’t mean at night, but in the day. I do like the days when the sun shines, though. Out in Washington, where I grew up, the sun sometimes chooses to hide for days – weeks, even – at a time. This is a depressing truth. By contrast, here in Minnesota we use our sunglasses year-round. We often get lovely sunny days…even if the temperature doesn’t rise above ten…if you’re lucky.

I think that the ability to appreciate frigid temperatures must be inborn.

This bodes well for my children, all Minnesotan in birth and in their choosing to pronounce “aunt” to rhyme with “taunt” rather than “ant”. I am stubbornly sticking with “ant” just because I like to be different.

I also, apparently, am stubbornly sticking with this chilly spot by the giant window to do my writing today, even though there are several warmer places I could move my computer to…places like the kitchen stove, perhaps, or my electric-blanket-warmed bed.

I think this will be a short post.

I think, in fact, that a need a cup of hot tea. Or mittens (which make typing difficult). Or, preferably, a hat and a scarf. Either that or I need to move back to Miami, where I was born.

No. I’m not that desperate.

I guess I’ll stick to the short post idea.

There. I’m done.

My Thoughts on a New Library for Nobles County

Posted on January 15, 2013 by gretcheno

I woke up from my afternoon nap on Sunday, and before I’d even gotten off of the couch, I was struck by something I’d contemplated before: the fact that I, at the newly-minted age of 43, have turned into my mother.

At least a little bit.

I distinctly remember thinking, thirty some years ago – as I watched my parents go off to their Sunday afternoon naps – “They are the craziest people ever. Who on earth would want to sleep Sunday afternoon away?”

Boy, do I understand now.

There are other ways in which I resemble my mother.

I am outspoken about things I care about.

I will never forget my mom’s frustrations with the school board. I didn’t know then – and I still don’t know now – what her exact beef was with the board, I just remember that whatever it was bothered her enough that she couldn’t keep quiet about it.

She had to speak up. She had to do what she could to make them change their minds.

Well, fast-forward a few decades and here I am: trying to convince a governing board to see things my way. Only this time it’s not the school board and this time it’s not my mother: it’s me.

On Tuesday morning, as the sun broke through the fog on a chilly Minnesota January morning, I stood – okay, sat – before the newly-sworn-in board of Nobles County Commissioners and presented my thoughts on the question of a new library for our county.

The fact that I like books ought to be clear to anyone who knows anything about me. The truth is, however, libraries today are about so much more than shelves full of books. They’re about information. They’re about computers. They’re about help and and tax forms and service and English as a Second Language. They’re about children, and story time and Easter egg hunts. They’re about teenagers fitting into society. They’re about book clubs and poetry readings and yoga. They’re about community.

I didn’t use those exact words before the board – perhaps I ought to have – instead I told a couple stories, as I am want to do – and I threw in a few facts, and I shared my Most Surreal Moment of my Life tale – always a favorite of mine. I came before the board as the chair of the Friends of the Library, but really I spoke to them just as little old me, nothing fancy. Mostly I just wanted to say something worth hearing. Something that wasn’t a waste of time. Something that made my point.

And what was my point? That we need a new library building in our county and we’d like the county to build it. We have out-grown our space, and, with 350-400 people (on average) using our facility every day, we have out-grown our building which is, by the way, older than I am.

I – and all of our supporters who were present at the board meeting that morning – are pleased with the board’s decision to seriously look into this issue – to nail down the space, size, scope and location – and that they set a realistic date to have this done by, that being April 15th. I want to thank the board for not letting this issue fade away. I did not expect the Capital Improvement Plan to be approved on Tuesday, the first day in office for 3/5ths of the county board. Who would approve a multi-million dollar building project on their first day in office?

I am exceedingly glad, therefore, that the board did not sweep the issue under the rug and for that I thank them. I am confident that when the April deadline comes along they will look at the information fairly and logically and make a wise decision.

What can we do while the county and the library folks get their ducks in order? We can begin by giving money to the Nobles County Library Foundation, established under the Worthington Area Foundation. This will show the county that people are serious about wanting this library and that they are willing to pony up to do so. This is the largest fund raising goal that the Worthington Area Foundation has ever committed to, and we are very excited to see how it goes!

If you’re interested, checks may be brought directly to the library and made out to “NCL Foundation”, or they can be mailed to:

Worthington Area Foundation
P.O. Box 373
Worthington, MN 56187
(507) 372-2919

Thanks, everyone. Here’s to a new library in our county!

It’s no Trick, Just a Wonderful Treat: Glazed Apple Pie Squares

Posted on October 31, 2012 by gretcheno

I am no kind of expert chef or baker, though I do enjoy getting into the kitchen and my friends tell me I ought to make my cheesecakes professionally.
Trouble is, that takes work, and what is now a fun thing to do would become, I’m afraid, a chore. So I’ll stick with just being a mom who likes to bake.

A very happy helper.

This weekend it was the O’Donnell’s turn to bring goodies to church. Without hesitation, I looked up my favorite fall dessert: Glazed Apple Pie Squares. With a sack of Early MacIntosh apples from Ocheda Orchard, I went to work. I hate peeling apples, so I don’t make this too often, and I had decided to make a double batch…which meant even more apples to deal with. I pulled out my trusty Pampered Chef peeler/corer/slicer, enlisted some help, and voila! A treat worthy of any Autumn get-together.

I’d have never been willing to make this recipe without this handy-dandy peeler.

So…grab some apples and get to work: it’s a treat worth the effort, and that’s no trick.

What else do you do with long strips of apple peel but make a game of them?

PS: I’m not great at making pie crust, but this is easy (and tasty) and it’s so much better sticking it in a sheet pan than having it flop down the sides of a pie pan. If I can manage this, you can too!

Yes, the recipe is coming…but first things first.

Fun times with your sister.

Glazed Apple Pie Squares
2 ½ cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp. salt
1 cup cold butter
1 egg, separated
3 to 4 Tbsp. milk
1 cup crushed cornflakes
9 cups thinly sliced peeled tart apples (about 10 medium)
1 cup plus 2 Tbsp. sugar, divided
2 tsp. ground cinnamon, divided
½ tsp. ground nutmeg

Glaze:
1 cup confectioners’ sugar
½ tsp vanilla extract
1 to 2 Tbsp. milk

In a large bowl, combine flour and salt; cut in butter until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. In a measuring cup, combine egg yolk and enough milk to measure 1/3 cup. Gradually add to the flour mixture, tossing with a fork until dough forms a ball.

Divide dough in half. Roll one portion into a thin 15-in. x 10-in. rectangle. Transfer to the bottom of an ungreased 15-in. x 10-in. x 1-in. baking pan. Sprinkle with the crushed cornflakes. In a large bowl, combine the apples, 1 cup sugar, 1-1/2 tsp. cinnamon and nutmeg; toss to coat. Spoon over crust.

Roll remaining dough into a thin 15-in. x 10-in. rectangle; place over apple filling. Beat egg white; brush over pastry. Combine remaining sugar and cinnamon; sprinkle over the top. Bake at 350 degrees for 45 t0 50 minutes or until golden brown.

For glaze, combine the confectioners’ sugar, vanilla and enough milk to achieve a drizzling consistency. Drizzle over warm pastry. Cool completely on a wire rack. Cut into squares.

I Love a Foggy Day

Posted on October 23, 2012 by gretcheno

The clouds have touched the earth today. It is the kind of day where the world narrows down, lending the illusion that you stand alone on an island, like Robinson Caruso, and you aren’t exactly sure if Man Friday will ever be able to find you in this fog.

I like fog. I like the mystery, the isolation. It’s weird to drive in, though. Disconcerting. You think that you are at a certain point on the road, sure that you’ve gone far enough – too far, even – to reach your destination, and then suddenly something looms up on the side of the road and you realize you aren’t even close, you’re still miles away from home. Fog tunnels your vision, distorts your memory, confuses.

Had I thought about it, I never would have imagined that the prairie would have such fog. Growing up on an island in the sea, I knew about fog. I knew how it covers and confuses, knew how the treacherous island roads that curve and climb could become suicidal if you drive them too fast, too confidently, through the fog. I thought, self-centeredly, that the coast had the last word in fog. That nothing could compare to an ocean’s mist.

I was wrong. Here, on the flat-lands, the land of 10,000 lakes and magnificent rivers, innumerable streams and countless puddles, fog can sweep in, ruling the land with a steel-colored thumb. It enforces its dictums without care, like a tyrant, a self-imposed dictator that I did not vote for and neither did any of my friends, Red or Blue or Independent.

And yet, despite its bossiness, despite its dangers, I’ll take it. Beauty trumps convenience any day when it comes to the world I live in.

Girl Scouts: Centennial Day of Service

Posted on October 13, 2012 by gretcheno

“Can we do this every year?”

“This is awesome!”

“I didn’t know what to expect, but this is way more fun than I thought it would be!”

How can you not like responses like that to a community service project?

On Saturday, October 13th, 11 K-5th graders from local Worthington Girl Scout troops got together to participate in the Centennial day of Service (CDOS), the largest environmental service project in River Valleys’ Girl Scouting history.

Ten of the eleven girls who showed up for the CDOS. They were a terrific group!

Though cookies may be the things which first come to the minds of many people when they think of Girl Scouts, really there is much, much more to the organization. For 100 years Girl Scouting as an organization has encouraged girls to be leaders and responsible citizens, given girls opportunities to grow and learn, and yes, sung a few campfire songs along the way. The CDOS made the point that Girl Scouts exist not just to give girls something to do: it exists to serve. CDOS honored the Girl Scouting 100 year legacy by creating this event as a way of supporting the community and servicing our local environment.

Tools of the trade.

The younger girls (“Dasies”)with their leader, Barb Stirn

The focus for the CDOS was to remove leaves from streets and storm drains, thus keeping debris out of the waterways where it causes oxygen depletion in the water and ultimately leads to unhealthy fish and other aquatic organisms. According to the Girl Scouts statics, “five yard bags of this organic debris equals one pound of phosphorus.” I am happy to report that our girls were able to fill 31 yard bags here in Worthington in the 1.75 hours they worked. That means we saved potentially six pounds of phosphorus from entering the lake, which means that we prevented potentially 3,000 pounds of algae growth in Lake Okabena. (All numbers come from the River Valley Girl Scouts.)

The “Junior Girl Scouts”, working together.

Dan Livdahl, administrator for the Okabena-Ocheda Watershed District, spoke to us at the beginning of the event, ensuring that each girl understood why she was there, and explaining how the fallen leaves, grass clippings, and even dirt can impact the water systems. Each troop involved also watched a video about water cleanliness as well as doing several experiments showing them the challenges of cleaning and filtering dirty water.

Dan Livdahl speaking to the girls.

Our local troops had hoped to have 30 girls show up for this event, but due to other commitments, only 11 were able to attend. However, they joined up with an estimated 54,000 Girl Scouts and volunteer parents from across Minnesota and Wisconsin with the goal of removing 20,000 pounds of phosphorus, thus preventing 10 million pounds of algae growth in ponds and lakes across the region. The estimated savings to local River Valley communities was 6 million dollars.

My favorite Daisy, hanging a “doorknob” information sheet.

In just shy of two hours – working with 8 3rd-5th graders – (the younger girls put up doorknob signs and swept just a short patch of street) we were able to clear just one side of our chosen block. We also painted (with environmentally safe and approved paint) fish stencils above four storm drains. More than once the girls were heard to say, “Wow, if everyone just cleared the space in front of their own houses, just think what an easy job we would have!” “Yeah,” one girl replied, “and think of how many fish they would save!” Eleven girls can’t make a huge impact, but a whole town working together to sweep up their leaves and grass clippings can.

I am a Girl Scout leader – albeit a somewhat inept one – and I must say that the time I spent with the girls raking, sweeping and painting was one of the most fun times I’ve had in my four years of involvement in scouting.

I also can say that I have never been as proud of our girls as I was today. They all worked hard for almost two hours straight and I never once heard one of them complain. They helped each other, problem-solved, and learned to work together to get the job done.

Pledging and Promising.

So the next time you see Girl Scouts out selling cookies – or nuts and candy as they are right now – give them an order, if you’re able, and support your local troops. Every Girl Scout across the nation promises through their pledge and Girl Scout Law, “to serve God and my country…to help people…to be responsible…and to use resources wisely [in order to] make the world a better place.” Saturday proved that our girls are ready and willing to fulfill their promises.

Chasidy Oddson, the local contact for the CDOS, leading the scouts in reciting the Girl Scout Law.

Autumn Assignment

Posted on October 2, 2012 by gretcheno

We went out, in the blowing wind, to find six leaves. It was a kindergarten homework assignment. The kind of homework I like. The kind of homework I understand.

We found our quota, quick as a wink. The rest of the trip was trading them out for new ones. Red, yellow, green, brown, pink; speckled, torn, broken, crisp, supple. We looked at whole branches of leaves, saw trees that were almost naked, trees that were still wearing all their clothes.

We saw seed pods, brown and crunchy, and fallen bird’s nests. It was so windy that our hair blew in our faces and so dry that the dirt blew in our eyes.

The cats followed us, enjoying our little excursion, wondering why we felt the need to carry off so many things: the leaves, the forgotten shovel, the last of the tomatoes.

We wrinkled our noses at certain smells, saw that the stream is totally dry, hoped for rain to replenish the lake.

We investigated the sunflowers, saw how the seeds are growing, wondered if we could roast them and salt them and enjoy them all winter. We thought about pumpkins and costumes and apple pie.

We went inside, hungry, thirsty, inspired.

This is the good stuff of life.

The View From my Window

(Which may be different from – but hopefully compatible with – the view from yours.)

Category Archives: Minnesota