Today we had what could be considered the greatest day in volunteering history. Progress was made beyond its bounds. Jen’s screeching alarm went off and we arose and rubbed the sleep out of our Tylenol-pm infused eyelids.  Everyone sat up and looked around a while, confused.  Why must you wake us up at this god-forsaken (literally) hour?  No worries, what was this delicious aroma that filled the air?  But of course, it was French toast.  But this wasn’t just any French toast.  This inexplicable entity encompassing pure unadulterated deliciousness was awaiting us, and our enthusiasm for it was unrivaled.  This half jelly half toast creature was our morning companion and it gave us the oomph that we needed to kickstart our volunteering engines.  Our team was divided like improper fractions into small groups that were just enough to get the job done.  As they say, when the going get tough, more people make the tough easier.  A house was painted today.  A nice house.  It belonged to a sweet old man that had to endure the grueling hardships of these tragic events, and on top of that he had a stroke, a double whammy if you will.  The paint held on to the walls of this house for its little latex life.  Unfortunately, we had to end this latex life, in order to start anew.  The events were chaotic, paint flying in every direction, mold exploding out of crevices, it could be considered by some a near death experience.  8 hours of work paid off though, more in a mental sense than an economic sense, but that’s really what’s important.  The house went from a crackling mess to a masterpiece that had people from across the town visiting twice, nay, thrice! in order to witness its beauty.  This behaviour must be commonplace for the Iowanese, for the habitat worksite experienced conduct of similar ilk.

Group picture before we started painting.	Repairing damage due to mold from the flooding.
Everyone working together to get the job done!	Groupd picture after we finished painting.

      Just around the corner, a crew of ten worked steadily on the rooftop of house framed just yesterday by our very own volunteers.  We were guided by the voice of Don, his prayers bestowed upon us from his lawn chair.  He slowly shouted into the cool breeze his motto for all of life’s conundrums, the KISS method, “Keep It Simple Stupid!”  This simplicity consisted of an endless chain of some of the most well constructed plywood roofing this side of the Mississippi (the left).  Defying physics, this endless chain was ended, and followed by a limitless supply of tar paper stapling.  For those of you not familiar with said paper, it is a water resistant material between the plywood and shingles, quite a useful material if you ask us… this tar paper did not fulfill its name though, as it was some of the unstickiest material ever.  An estimated 4,000 staples were used to adhere this material to the roof.

Working hard on the roof.	Melanie and John on the roof.

Group picture after a job well done.

      The environment was also conserved. Trash was cleaned. It was great.

      This grueling work was rewarded with a history lesson, joy!  We had the opportunity to meet the Clarks of Clarksville.  We were all starstruck.  THE Clarks of Clarksville?  No way they could have arranged such a spectacular meeting, but alas, it was true.  We were given a briefing of the history of how Iowa was Clarksified in 1852, and how it had never been the same since.  After this speech and a song and dance number

(Iowa, Iowa, the land of every state
Iowa, Iowa where the corn always grows),

we all rushed to ask for the Clarks autographs, and they were duly ascertained.

Two generations of Clarks.	Mr. and Mrs. Clark giving us a history of their town. Mrs. Clark joked about the fact that she was only a Clark through marriage.

      Following this event of a lifetime, it was time to hit the showers for some of us.  After an awkward and scalding hot group shower in the town high school, we returned to a church empty of souls.  Where were the others?  Why did they abandon us?  Did we smell?  Maybe a little, so it was understandable.  They returned from a 5-hour trip to Wal-Mart, our new favorite destination here in Iowa - with most stores closing early in town.