On Monday, Aug. 10, when the derecho hit Iowa, we were all shocked by the storm itself and the severe damage it caused. (We literally didn’t know what hit us, and once we were able to read the news I actually had to google the term derecho, as I’d never heard that word.) But the second the storm winds stopped, before the last of the raindrops fell, neighbors were already outside helping each other. As we were opening our front door, the neighbor boy was running to our house just to see if we were alright and if we needed ice or anything at all. People found strength they didn’t know they had and moved heavy debris out of the street, and off driveways and sidewalks. Everyone pulled together naturally and instinctively. People were smiling and generous. There was an elated community spirit of gratitude, a thankfulness to be alive and well.
That first night we realized we would be without electricity “for a while.” We found flashlights and candles. We opened the windows. We saw the stars. We listened to singing insects in concert. We said our prayers of thanks.
That first morning with no power it was clear we would lose food and that we would need to be smart about what we ate and in order of how perishable it was. We opened and closed the refrigerator and freezer doors quickly to save the cool air and put dairy into the freezer to keep it cold … and soon my thoughts and my heart settled on Tara. The late, beloved Chef Tara of Prairiewoods, who I have thought of many times as a guardian angel. In life, she held us with her hospitality, warmth, care, comfort food and words of wisdom. In death she is a guardian angel, she is in our hearts forever, and her words of wisdom and Tara Time lessons easily come back to mind. These thoughts of Tara were the first tears I shed after the storm, and they were mostly tears of thankfulness for the time I had with her and for all I learned from her; for all she taught me and all I hold in my heart of her. Tara always said, “As long as I’ve got PB&J, I know everything will be alright.” I looked at my counter. Yes, I did have bread and peanut butter, an unopened jelly, and honey (which never spoils). I would be alright. Just thinking of Tara helped me know everything would be alright.
Tara taught me about the concept of a no-waste kitchen, one of the ecospiritual practices at the heart of the Prairiewoods mission. One of the ways we can nurture our relationship with Earth is by reducing food waste and making use of the food that we are blessed with. I’ve carried this part of the mission into my own home practices, and after the storm and loss of electricity I did my best not to waste and to make use of what I had as best I could, with “planned meals,” as Tara would call them. Of course, like everyone, there was much food that had to be thrown away, but from the experience of the storm I am reminded and renewed in my commitment to have more of a no-waste kitchen at home. This Earth-care practice of reducing food waste is one way we carry the Prairiewoods mission with us wherever we are.
—Angie Pierce Jennings, Prairiewoods hosted groups and hospitality coordinator