Mud Fence Creations | Conni Delinger
When I told my daughter I was moving to Iowa, I told her I wanted “blue skies, green grass, and four seasons.” Little did I know that Iowa is capable of doing all four in one month (or even one week!)
I was raised in Phoenix, where we had only two seasons: ‘Hot’, and ‘Hotter Than ___’. As a kid, we did not notice the 115 degree Junes and Julys as we ran thru the sprinklers. August was even hotter. It was always a guess by which date in April we would hit 100 degrees. (The earliest recorded 100 degree day was March 26, 1988.) We wore jackets in ‘wintry’ December, when all the ‘snowbirds’ were golfing in shorts and fanning themselves.
Life in the little Swedish town where I had lived for the past 40-plus years before moving to Iowa has slightly more distinct seasons: the cold, dreary fog of winter, the 105 degree heat of summer (sometimes hotter), and the inversion layer – a miserable haze that lays over the San Joaquin Valley for months at a time. We usually forgot there were even mountains very close, and in view on a clear day. Clear days were few and far between, especially after the droughts hit. The Fresno area historically has 100-plus degrees in seven of the 12 months.
When I first visited Iowa two years ago this week, I was enthralled with the rolling fields of green, sculpted so perfectly, and I knew I had found my new home. I was finally going to have all four seasons, just like the science books taught, back in the Phoenix grade schools. They even had finite dates for each of the seasons to start and end.
And then there was April in Iowa….
My friends in Phoenix hit 100 degrees for the first time this year on April 10. On April 10 in my former home of Kingsburg, Calif., the high was 86 degrees, after a week in the low 70s. We in the Red Oak/Stanton area, on the other hand, had spent most of April in the mid-30s to low 40s. We had snow. We had rain. We had cold. What we did not have was the expected “spring thaw,” of both the land, and of my hands!
It could have been worse, however. On April 8-10, 1973, a blizzard came through for three days, dropping more than 14 inches of snow over much of Iowa.
We generally look forward to spring as the time to plant gardens, tune up the lawn mower (NOT the snow blower!), and open the windows to air out the fusty smell of a closed-up house.
While my friends in Phoenix were trying to get their flowers and vegetables planted before the 100 degree weather hit, I was still sleeping under my electric blanket, as well as a couple comforters, and starting my day with a cup or two of hot tea.
While Target was bringing out the bikinis and summer wear, I was still wearing gloves and three layers. During a trip to California for Christmas, I had brought back all my summer clothes, and gotten them washed and pressed, in anticipation of spring. On a warmish day in March, I had packed up the heavy sweaters and gloves, to make room for the shorts and tops. I have now shuffled my closet more times than a poker dealer!
Then, suddenly, everything is Iowa-green again! The grass needs mowed again by the time I finish the first trip across the yard! The dandelions are more colorful than my flower garden. The weeds in my supposed flower garden are taller than the irises, which don’t know whether to pop out or not. There is plenty of green in both the yard and the flowerbed, but I think the weeds are winning! The fields are once again sprouting their curvy rows of green, and the farmers are sighing in relief as they are finally able to get onto their tractors.
Everyone is smiling again, greeting the neighbors in the yards during their walks, and chatting about the weather, this time favorably. Farmers markets are starting up, and we are all looking forward to the fresh produce. Canning supplies are coming out of the cellar, to be cleaned and prepped for the season. Playgrounds are being freshened up, and planners are gearing up for festivals and fairs. Boats, RVs, and campers are being de-winterized, and the catfish and walleyes have started calling our name.
And, as I write this, the forecasters are predicting 93-98 degrees.
Welcome to ‘spring’ in Iowa!
Maybe I’ll wait another week or two to take the electric blanket off my bed…
Conni Delinger lives in Stanton. A business woman, she also is a freelance writer. Her column appears monthly in The Express. You can reach her at mudfencecreations@yahoo.com.