Doing your part during the drought

A good rain hasn’t hit our town since May, and farmers and families alike are feeling the pinch. Area businesses are having serious conversations about whether to use disposable items or continue washing reusable ones.


While it seems like water reduction is a futile thing in a family of four, but these days, every drop counts. And while our efforts seem small, they could make a difference in extending the availability of water in the coming days and weeks.

Some low-cost and low-effort ways to reduce your water use inside your home:

Reuse your water when you can. While it seems strange to save the water from steaming your broccoli or cooking pasta, cooling and reusing it can add nutrients back into your garden’s soil. Lately, given my garden fiasco, I’ve turned to pouring that water – as well as my husband’s leftover coffee – onto my compost pile to keep it moist.

Watch your leaks. Replace washers on dripping faucets and fix that annoying leak in the toilet.

Take shorter showers. I’ve been even plugging my bathtub and using that water for my kids’ baths. Or place a bucket in the shower to catch excess water for watering plants.

Replace your showerhead with a low-flow version.

Turn off the faucet! Don't let the water run while brushing your teeth, washing your face or shaving.

Avoid flushing the toilet unnecessarily. Dispose of tissues, insects, and other similar waste in the trash rather than the toilet.

Fill up that dishwasher or washing machine before you run it.

Compost your kitchen scraps instead of using your sink disposal.

What are you doing to reduce water usage at home?

Teamwork and tornadoes

The tornadoes that hit southern Indiana two weeks ago struck too close to home. And I don't mean geographically.

I grew up in Wichita, where tornado sirens blew twice a week in the worst of the season and you didn't really worry until the crazy weather spotters on the radio spotted something on your end of town. I remember clearly the F-5 that hit the suburb of Anderson just before my senior year and how one house, walking distance from my home, was fine, and the next looked stepped on.

I was blessed that when the F-1 hit our one-stoplight town in Kansas in 2001 that it lifted a block from my home. I still remember the train sound, the destruction, the leaves embedded in my plastic lawn chairs and siding. And I remember the little children hysterical in church the next time it stormed.

And of course the former reporter and tornado survivor (a decade ago at work) watched it all unfold on Twitter and the news. And the children were watching.

You forget how much little ones absorb, even when they're playing. So when my daughter wanted to pray for the people in Henryville two days later, I knew we had to do something. Children need to know that they can pray for results, but they also need to know they have the power to make change.

That was when we decided our Daisy Girl Scout troop needed to do something. The funny thing about tornado relief, though, is that organizations aren't equipped immediately to take things. They need food. And water. And shelter. And cleaning supplies. And, ideally, money. All of which would teach the girls nothing, and impose yet another thing for parents to buy.

Several calls and emails later, we found our answer.

Our troop would do a shoe drive, collecting outgrown shoes from our closets for Soles 4 Souls. (As my pastor put it: Kids lose their shoes on a good day!) My hope? Each family could find one pair to donate.

And then it grew. Our church's disaster committee, who I contacted for possible help in donating them, hooked us up with our pastor, who announced it during a sermon on Girl Scout Sunday. (The first-graders were thrilled!) So we made posters and collection boxes. And the word spread.

Each day, I'd tell my daughter: We have 11 more pairs. We have 20 more pairs.

Officially, our drive is over, but a few donations are trickling in. We've easily exceeded 200 pairs of shoes. More than half are going to Osgood, Indiana, with the church disaster committee this weekend. The rest are being shipped to Soles 4 Souls to help other communities in need.

It's an awesome lesson to share with our girls: By yourself you may not be able to do much, but as a team, you can accomplish a lot.

A little hail damage never looked so good

Given the craziness of this spring's weather, I'm grateful to live with a little hail damage on my car and a knocked-out porch light after yesterday's three rounds of tornado warnings and storms. Haven't taken a full tour of the property, but my loved ones are safe, and I can live with that.

When the rain, rain goes away

The last week or so, rains of varying degrees have hit our home. Morning drizzles. Afternoon showers. Nighttime thunderstorms.

After probably six inches or so of the precipitation I needed last fall to save my landscaping, I'm anxious for some sun. But I can't complain. Because in those instances when the rain does go away, I've been blessed with some magic moments.

Like stopping to watch a half dozen baby goslings struggle to hop up from the ditch into a flooded rainfield.

Or seeing the first "heart flowers," as my daughter calls them, of the spring, and seeing her pluck them lovingly off my plants to share with me.

Or taking a quiet walk - in the sun, no less! - at a retreat center on the way home from a funeral, the one non-rainy moment of the day.

Or taking a less quiet walk, getting splashed by my children, who have a knack of finding even the most miniscule of puddles.

Sure, I'd like the rain to stop. But sometimes, it's a reminder of the little moments that we otherwise take for granted.