Sign up now to have a booth at the Tomato Art Fest

Attention world!!

It is NOT TOO LATE to get a booth at East Nashville's premier community event, the 5th annual Tomato Art Fest.

BUT IT IS ALMOST TOO LATE.

Artisans? Food vendors? Busineses? Nonprofits? People with cool stuff and ideas to share?

Download a booth application and contract here, now. Preference is given to applications received by Friday, July 25. That's the day after tomorrow.

The 1998 Nashville tornado -- 10 years ago today

I have so many memories of the Nashville tornado in 1998. My neighborhood was one of the epicenters of destruction 10 years ago today. Tonight, my church hosts part of the city's official commemoration, with an original choral piece we commissioned for the occasion. See The Gardener, composed by David K. Childs, conducted by Joe Lee, tonight at East End United Methodist Church at 7 p.m. I'd get there early if I were you. I'm only guaranteed a seat because I'm in the choir.

I'm going to share some scattered memories here.

• The tornado. I remember the afternoon very vividly. Back then I wasn't nearly so paranoid about the weather, so I don't remember any apprehension about the storm coming. But it was very clear as it began arriving that we were in for some truly horrible weather. It's the only time I can remember actually going to the basement of my building for weather. Seems like the alarm went off a couple times that day. I was one of the first ones back upstairs after the tornado passed by -- and it did pass directly by my building. My boss stayed upstairs to watch.
• When I got back upstairs, Rex, Will Weaver, Lewis Pennock and it seems like a couple other folks and I all piled into Will's car -- an SUV, I remember, because people were piled in the back, too -- and headed to Centennial Park. Rex had seen the storm heading that way. We arrived to see the dozens of trees destroyed by the storm, and saw the paramedics pulling Vanderbilt student Kevin Longinotti from the wreckage of the picnic shelter. He died at the hospital. I remember standing there, a decent distance back of course, but feeling like this was a movie. It just didn't seem real.
• We went back to the office. You started to hear from friends around town -- not everyone had a cell phone back then :) -- and it became obvious that East Nashville was hit badly. I saw the destroyed sanctuary of St. Ann's Episcopal Church on Woodland Street on the news, and I left work for the day. When I did, another tornado came through -- I heard it on the radio as I was driving down West End. I made a quick detour and huddled in the basement of the Towers dorms with my sister and a few dozen other Vandy students, while we wondered where the hundreds of other Towers residents were. No doubt up in their rooms 14 floors above, playing video games.
• I drove into East Nashville and it was immediately obvious that the damage was worse than anything you could have imagined. I remember having to zig-zag the blocks several times on my way to our house on the 1600 block of Fatherland Street -- trees, power poles and downed lines choked much of the neighborhood.
• Many people in Nashville have discovered this great neighborhood in the years since 1998. What you still don't see, even 10 years later, is how wooded this neighborhood was 10 years ago. The whole neighborhood was shady. Thanks to a number of neighborhood organizations, Releaf Nashville and other groups, hundreds and hundreds of trees have been planted here in the last 10 years. But I still shake my head when I drive down Stratton Ave. or Rosebank -- streets that looked so different the first time I saw them. The houses are almost all the same, but the streetscape is completely different. Basically, you can assume that any young tree you see in East Nashville is replacing a mature tree....and many of the bare yards were once shaded. You see a lot of yards like mine -- where mature, understory trees like dogwoods and redwoods still thrive, but are no doubt a little more stressed than they should be, having lost the hackberries and maples that used to shade them.
• At the time, my then-husband and I lived in a cute little house on Fatherland, with two enormous trees that were the entire front yard. I was so relieved to find that neither had crushed our home [either easily could have wiped out most of the structure]. Instead, we'd just lost one major branch, which came to rest with its leaves just brushing our neighbor's car, parked in the street. Our house ended up having about $4,000 worth of damage, as I recall -- the insurance types determined the storm had lifted the corner of the house enough to send cracks running through most of the walls, but no true structural damage.
• I had left the dogs outside, as I used to do every day. When I arrived home, the fence was blown open but they were still in the yard. Absolutely terrified. Sally [now 12 years old] to this day is petrified of rain and most especially thunderstorms. She doesn't just have to be inside, she has to be in the room you're in during a storm.
• Of course, everyone was without power and phones. I remember the phones came back first, within a couple of days. Our block was among the first to get phone service back. We were all living on the front porches, sharing news of the cleanup, drinking beer in the evenings after a hard day's cleanup effort, so when Craig and Denise's phone came back down the street, everyone else went in to check theirs. We were without power for 10 days. I don't remember, did we have a gas water heater? Did we shower at the Y? Or brave the cold?
• In the first days after the storm, there were who-knows-how many potlucks in East Nashville, big gatherings where people ate gallons of ice cream, or roasted hot dogs on the grill, or ate whatever had begun to thaw in the freezer. Cakes. Roasts. Casseroles. People with gas stoves or grills played host, and you brought whatever you had.
• I have no idea how many people from East Nashville actually worked [you know, at their jobs] in the week after the storm. Not many.
• Our friends Paige and Bob had just moved to DC in the weeks before the storm, and they had not yet closed on the sale of their Nashville house. We picked our way five blocks over trees and power lines [were they still live? who knew? who wanted to find out?] to see it Friday morning the 17th at sunrise. It was not destroyed, but close. An entire wall gone. Both enormous pines in the front were down, one crushing the porch. Their enormous hackberry in the back, through the side and the back of the house. The inside -- despite having been empty -- was still ruined, though no possession had been there to scatter.
• After seeing so much destruction, you'd think you become numb to it, like you do when you see such things on television. When it's your neighborhood, you don't get numb. Every new thing you see is another blow. When you know the houses, and the people, and the trees, you don't get numb. You wish you would, but you don't.
• Almost immediately rescue and cleanup efforts began. Our church, East End United Methodist, served as a hub for relief efforts, organized by the church, UMCOR and the Lockeland Springs Neighborhood Association. The 8yo's dad didn't show up the last two weeks of classes at Owen [where he nonetheless managed to graduate with his MBA, three weeks after the tornado], and instead spent the time getting friendly with a chainsaw. So many of my good friends were in the middle of things. Me? I'm not so good with a chainsaw, but I do remember going to bed tired every night for days and days and days. It's just astounding how much there is to do when something like this happens.
• Truckloads and vanfuls and busloads of people came to help. I don't know where they came from. From everywhere. We were so grateful for the people who just showed up, knowing there would be work to do for willing hands. There was.
• I remember later in the summer of 1998. The day I woke up and realized I didn't hear a chainsaw. And it was something you noticed, the not hearing. Because they were the pulse of East Nashville for weeks and weeks after April 16.
• The blue tarps -- all the cool roofs had one -- took longer to disappear, but they, too, finally slipped away.
• My friends finally sold their house, but not before months of insurance wrangling and legal hassles. Today, it's completely restored, and I know the people who live it in again [it's sold again in the meantime].

What we're up to

We are waiting, waiting, waiting for the new stove. It was supposed to come tomorrow, but the plumber [who is installing all the gas lines, including to my new water heater and YAY to my gas grill] had to resked for next week, so I moved the stove delivery too so as not to be without one at all for several days. Unreliable and old as the current stove is, it does at least cook stuff. Mostly.

The big news here at Fixin' Supper is that I canceled the cable earlier this week.

"What?" you say. "I know that's not possible, because all we've been getting here all week are links to articles on del.icio.us. What the @#$#@ are you doing, if you're not watching TV and you're not blogging??"

Hahaha good point you have there, in the conversation we're having in my head. Whoever "you" might be.

Well this week the 8yo is here, so I'm sure you realize, this week is all about homework.

I have actually cooked several things in the past couple of days, in a last-minute frenzy, as if I'd miss this awful stove once it's gone.

* Chocolate peanut butter treats [They probably have a real name but I'm too lazy to go look it up.]
* Roasted butternut squash soup. To.Die.For. Don't be fooled by the time to make this in the recipe: It takes all day. First you make the toasted spice mix, then the roasted squash and only THEN the soup. Worth every minute.
* Green beans with cracker crumbs. I must have expounded on these before here. [Apparently not. I will share the secret with you soon.] It makes no sense why these are so good, but they are.
* More chicken and rice.

And I've spent most of today and tonight reading about the weather online, of course. Someone at work asked me what the heck I'd do about tornadoes, without cable.

Pause.

I thought the whole point of a tornado was to interrupt your cable access, but maybe that's a unique phenomenon in East Nashville. Of course, as a long-time East Nashville resident, I have both my battery-powered weather radio, and intimate knowledge of every weather website on the web. So whether we're having a lose-the-power storm or a freakishly-didn't-lose-the-power storm, I'm all over it.

Dragon Boat Racing - This Weekend!

So you may remember that I enrolled in boot camp earlier this summer. Julia Ledbetter runs a great fitness program at her gym, The Body Shop. I highly recommend it, and as soon as my schedule permits, I'll be back for another camp.

Julia and her husband Levi are not just promoting fitness in the gym, though. They pulled together a team for this weekend's Dragon Boat Festival. It's a charity race benefiting the Cumberland River Compact and the Tennessee Scenic Rivers Association.

Here's the Body Shop team practicing this week in the Cumberland River, right in front of LP Field. I'm not in the picture or on the team, but I'm planning to head for the riverfront this Saturday morning to cheer them on!

One of my favorite things ever

  So far, the Stephen Vincent
sauvignon gets a thumbs-up

So, I realized this evening that I was enjoying one of my most favorite activities in this world. I was cooking something new. I was drinking a glass of wine. And I was listening to Garrison Keillor.

Happy, happy, happy.

I started this fabulous evening by stopping in this afternoon at the Woodland Wine Merchant, the newest business in our neighborhood. It is catty-corner from The Turnip Truck in one direction, across the street from Beyond the Edge, two doors down from Margot and across a parking lot from Marche.

Holy cow, I love this neighborhood.

WWM feels fresh and light in the afternoon, with lots of daylight coming in from the front pane windows. The wines are displayed in cases where one bottle sits vertically on top, and the rest are on their side beneath. They have a really interesting selection -- some you will have heard of, and many that may be new to you. They were to me, not that I am a connoisseur. But I go to the wine store from time to time.

I picked out three bottles whose descriptions I liked and was home before Prairie Home Companion started. Sweet.

Today is the Tomato Art Fest!

Today is one of the best events of the year in Nashville, the Tomato Art Fest! Started a mere three years ago by Bret and Meg McFadyen, owners of the Garage Mahal and Art & Invention Gallery on Woodland Street, this festival has gone beyond tomato art and into the realm of fabulous neighborhood celebration.

Go check out the dozens of activities....there are all sorts of tomato-related contests. You had to register for some in advance, but for a number, you can just show up today at the right time. And there will be booths from many, many neighborhood businesses and organizatons....And food. And music. And a really fun time will be had by all.

I may or may not make it out today. I've been feeling really puny the last day and a half, but I hate to miss the Tomato Fest. However, my fever is gone so I doubt I could share this nasty little bug....if I can work up the energy, I'll see you there!

Tomato Time

Hey folks, it's less than a month before this year's bigger-and-better-than-ever Tomato Art Festival!

Get the scoop on the TAF website.

Dear Neighbor,

I applaud your owning a dog, joining the vast majority of other East Nashvillians. And I too think little yap lap dogs are awfully cute. I'm sure yours is no exception. I used to have a little yap lap dog myself.

I feel sure that you either work third shift or take Ambien to sleep every night. Because I just know there is no way you are aware that your little yap lap dog spends lots of time barking really shrill-ly in the middle of the night. Like last night for instance, 3 a.m. to 4 a.m., no break! Really, that's impressive.

Because I'm sure, if you were aware of this, you would somehow fix the problem. I just know that if you had any idea this yap dog from hell sweet lap dog kept your neighbors up, you'd be horrified.

I'm sorry to have to post it here on my blog, even. If I could figure out exactly what house you lived in, I'd just come tell you myself. Unless you're that guy behind me who guns his motorcycle/large truck/hard to tell motor repeatedly every morning about 7:15 a.m. Because that scares me. And your dog is just fine with me, sir.

Ultimate navel-gazing

I have a friend who recently said that almost all blogs are navel-gazing, "but not yours. It has a point."

Heh.

I challenge anyone to find the point around here but I am glad you are reading. [Anyone? Mom??]

In the spirit of navel-gazing, I wanted to share this article about the listservs in East Nashville. I'm pictured and quoted, talking about the East Nashville listserv that I started Jan. 1, 2000. It's alive and well today. Holy cow, the paper is right. As of this morning, we have 852 members. Thank you all.

I'm a weather weenie

So when I go to weather.com and see a picture like this, I get a little freaked out. Right now, that big red area isn't anywhere near my house. [Sorry for all you folks in my hometown. I hope you know the nearest neighbor with a basement. You all are in the red zone!! I guess you are just in for it, Mom and Dad. I doubt there are many basements near you. :( ]

It's just tornadoes that do it to me. I have lived my whole life in tornado country but not til the big one in '98 did they ever bother me. I mean, twice when I was growing up, tornadoes came down my street, skipping over the houses. In neither instance did any of my neighbors [or us] suffer severe property damage. I remember storms that knocked down massive trees -- on my street and all around me. I remember one storm that just laid waste to the countryside out past my grandmother's house. Farmhouses, trailers, trees -- miles and miles of destruction starting what must not have been more than 2-3 miles from my house. Yet I grew up without a basement and never thought a thing about it.

Ah, the ignorance of the young.

Just like my 11-year-old dog, who also lived through '98 [albeit outside in the middle of the storm -- far different scenario than my personal story], thunderstorms and tornadoes bother me more with each passing year.

After saying I wouldn't even consider a house without a basement on this last move, I went and bought a house without a basement. It has many other charming aspects which overall, more than make up for the lack of underground shelter. But I know that at least three or four days a year, as long as I live here, I will be convinced that I was insane to purchase this place. So I am always grateful for storms that come during the day. I feel more in control of that. I hate nothing worse than waking up to the sound of the weather radio at 2:38 a.m., wondering where I am and why I'm up. Once I figure it out, I can't go back to sleep until I see the storm is over.

All in all I suppose fear of tornadoes is both a rather minor phobia and also a rather healthy one. You won't catch me out videoing any upcoming storms. On the other hand, I love a good thunderstorm. Never mind the light show and the accompanying chorus: I like the reminder that this physical earth is more powerful than we can imagine, and that its systems have a lifespan of their own, outside of humankind's control.

It's just, are those tornadoes really necessary? Thanks, I thought not either.