As a child growing up in Iowa, I was mortified of tornados. I remember once my folks were out shopping and left me with my older siblings (who loved to torment poor, poor me). They decided it would be fun to tell me there was a tornado warning, so we all went down to the cellar and crouched in the corner. Then they got bored.

Iowa City, my home town, is somewhat on the fringes of tornado alley, but still tornado watches and warnings are things you grow up dealing with. There is nothing quite like the eerie calm that preceeds a prairie storm, with crepuscular light turning green and forboding. Then the rains and winds begin, with angry intensity. Funnel clouds can poke down along the front, but usually recede back into the blackness. The storm marches on, heading for the Mississippi, maybe dumping some golf ball sized hail on the way.

Last night was such a night in Iowa City, but one of the funnel clouds persisted and grew, and turned into and F-2 tornado. It cut an 8 mile path through the heart of town a third of a mile across. (An F2 tornado has estimated winds speeds of 113-157 mph and causes considerable damage).

The Daily Iowan has four photo galleries online: night-of-storm, morning after, and reader submitted. They also have some aerial photos.

The Iowa City Press-Citizen also has morning after and reader submitted photos.

The Des Moines Register duplicates some of these in its two galleries: damage and cleaning up and reader submitted. The register also published an approximate map of the twister’s path.

Update, 4/15/2006: All three papers listed above seem to be updating frequently. If you’re looking for Iowa City tornado photos, I recommend checking the home pages of the Daily Iowan, the Press-Citizen and the Des Moines Register. The Cedar Rapids Gazette has several galleries too. (Please post links if you find others!)

WackyMommy requests that I print my “Rules for ex-girlfriends” that I once sent to a good friend who was dating somebody, er, close to Wacky Mommy. It was written in an ironic tone, but Wacky Mommy and the person, er, close to her who was dating my friend both thought the rules were perfectly reasonable.

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What the fuck is a meme tag? Well, I’m not that into this blog thing, at least not enough to know. My lovely wife, Wacky Mommy, got “tagged” by Amalah, which means she’s supposed to list 6 weird things about herself, which she did. Then she went and tagged me. So, herewith, my weirdness in all its glory:

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Since becoming a dad, I haven’t spent nearly enough time appreciating the glory of nature around Portland. The kids, suddenly, are old enough to actually want to go out and hike. When did this happen? Now they can’t get enough.

So last weekend, the whole wacky family packed it up and headed up to the Columbia Gorge and saw some waterfalls and did some nice little kid friendly hikes. It’s a truly spectacular place, with giant waterfalls, monolithic rock outcroppings, and the immensity of the Columbia River. (Click on thumbnails for larger views.)

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Well I went down to the local arena
Asked to see the manager man
He came from his office, said, “Son can I help you?”
I looked at him and said, “Yes you can…”

I want to Drive the Zamboni…hey
I want to Drive the Zamboni…Yes I do!
—Zamboni Song by the Gear Daddies

As if I needed proof of the old adage that life is better with a Zamboni than without one, I got to the old rink today for my lunch hour pick up hockey to discover the Zamboni (actually an Olympia) had blown an intake manifold.

“No ice cut today!” said Swede. Well, how bad can it be, I’m thinking to myself. “Pond hockey!” says Swede.

Indeed. The ice is so clouded, the lines have been hidden for months. And the Zamboni broke down last night (not this morning), so we weren’t talking about a few little scratches from the ice dancers this morning, but the gravel and snow that’s left after a hockey game. The only thing missing were carp frozen in the ice. Swede said it sounded like a gunshot to his head when the thing blew.

They’re closed tomorrow for “building repairs,” which means they’re going to keep the roof beams from falling off their concrete pillars. Well, that’s good. I guess it means they’re not going to condemn the old barn and bulldoze it. So I asked Swede if he was going to take the day to shave down the ice. Nope, they’re going to have all kinds of heavy equipment out there. So we’ll be skating without lines for some time to come. But at least we’ll have the Zamboni back.

No, seriously, if you take the view (as I do) that everything in life is metaphor, you can learn valuable life lessons in anything you do.

For instance, in a previous avocation as a musician, I played bass. In hockey, I play defense. (I’ve come to realize that I spent the first half of my adult life living “This is Spinal Tap.” Now as I enter the middle of life I’m living “Slap Shot.” In the words of Reggie Dunlop, “Fuck ’em.”)

If you’re not familiar with music and hockey, here are the similarities between bass players and defensemen:

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Okay, Wacky Mommy, you’re not the only one around here that can post recipes.

Made a big pot of this for dinner tonight. My goodness, it’s good and tasty. Cholle is a North Indian garbonzo bean dish. It’s very easy to make and very tasty. The only “exotic” ingredient is garam masala. If you can’t find garam masala, don’t despair. It’s just a mixture of cinnamon, cloves, black pepper and cardamon.

I used a ton of garbonzos I had cooked previously and frozen. They were in a 12 cup freezer container. With that many beans, the unit of measure for the spices was 1 tablespoon. So where it says “1part cumin”, I used 1 tablespoon. You could certainly use more, but this seemed about right to me. I used about an onion and a half, a couple tomatoes and nice chunk of fresh ginger, about the size of my thumb.

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I am. It’s true.

Fancy Portuguese espresso machine crapped out a while back, and I’m taking it as a sign from the heavens. I’m down to half a cup of drip brew today. Drinking lots of agua to flush out the system. Hopefully I won’t put on too much weight or lose my edge on the ice.

Wish me luck.

So, despite me having a new blog, I’m still obsessing over the wife’s blog. I must say, hers is looking pretty darn slick now (the purple flower theme was her idea, I just had to scavenge the art and whip it all into shape). Now it makes me wanna redesign this one already. But I’m out of ideas.

The water damage is covered by our insurance. The adjuster just left.

Bad news: the plumbing work is not covered. And we have a $500 deductible.

Next step is getting a contractor out here to start digging and figure out how far they have to go. We’ve been hoping for a new shower, so this could be our chance. Ah, the joys of owning a 100 year old house (that a previous owner/do-it-yourselfer remodled).