The night before I was speak to the students at Delhi Elementary I drove an additional 12 miles east on highway 20 toward Dyersville because Karen George graciously offered me the use of her Downtown B&B in Dyersville during my two-day stay.

While Karen tidied up a bit, I chose to run a few miles on Beckman's all-weather track. I couldn't recall where the burst of energy had come from but I ran two miles with the ease of a tortoise running against a hare. The clouds overhead darkened and years of living in the Midwest gave me a clue that a storm was definitely brewing. I hobbled back to the B&B. Karen quickly gave me a tour of the house where the crew from Field of Dreams had once stayed. The first place she showed me was the basement because word had quickly spread about a tornado heading this way. It wasn't five minutes before Karen had left and then the tornado warning alarm blared and an eerie stillness took hold. I galloped down to the basement and a rumbling roar of fallen tree limbs gave me a clue that formidable winds battered the brick structure.

I thought to myself: "Great! I've come all this way to get caught in a tornado." Then the electricity shut down and I was cloaked in darkness.

I could almost hear Hannibal slurping behind me saying, "It was good of you to come, Clarice. Slurrrp!"

However, mercifully the tornado didn't have a lock on the house and the electricity turned on. I bid Hannibal ado and slumbered back up to the cozy room that Karen had decorated like one of those Better Homes and Gardens pictures.

The next evening I was invited to speak to the Delhi Elementary Parents at Parents' Night. Becky Willey had done an excellent job with her door prize giveaways and newsletter to the parents to try to gain awareness of the literacy event. However, the Maquoketa high school track meet and poor weather conditions caused a lower than expected turn out.

It is difficult to speak to a light crowd of 10 parents and 12 children. The children suddenly become very reserved and my speech draws on the children's enthusiasm. I mustered all my enthusiasm to put on a good show despite the quiet peeps I received from the few volunteers I dragged up to the front.

I was finally able to break the silence and even noticed reserved smile on parents' faces when I read about Creeper and his glass eye. Unveiling Erin's Team USA uniform at the end drew claps of appreciation - and yet the dismal weather had like the evening before dampened the enthusiasm.

I was then given another chance to redeem myself when I was invited back to the elementary school on Tuesday to speak to the K-5 students about the art of writing. The children this time had come to life and with it lots of enthusiasm - like riding a bike as they say. We had created our own fictional story with each student having an opportunity to add their own unique pizazz to the story.

Becky said it was amazing. Students who rarely volunteer had astonishingly shown excitement and contributed their bit to our group story. The story was about a boy who gets in a fight with his sister and is disciplined by his mother, who cares for her ten children. Our main character and his buddy slip away. They catch a 5 pound lake trout and the youngster surprises his mother with the fish, which she graciously cooks up for supper.

I then talked to grades 3-5 and we developed a rather interesting sentence about Captain Hook and his dying just as he falls from a cliff. As I headed west toward Spirit Lake, I felt the reading mission had been accomplished in Delhi. The sun had actually slipped through the few remaining rain clouds.