Downsize, Papa

We had a bon voyage soiree last night for some Outward Bound friends who are moving to Flagstaff, Arizona. This couple has been with the school for many years, but after their winter of caretaking at Cedar Rock, they decided that it was time to go west like little pioneers.

They are now on their way, and I have a funny image of the journey in a Toyota Avalon. Squeezed into this car are:

young man,

young woman,

young man's old father,

young woman's old dog.

Here's a picture of Harrison, the old dog:

Young man's father is living with the couple. He is from the Dominican Republic and doesn't speak any English.

The young man (who used to live at a Zen Buddhist monestary) was telling me last night, "We sent a box of things out to Arizona and we might mail one more. (M'lady) got rid of a lot of stuff that she didn't use anymore and I don't have that much. My dad came here from the Dominican Republic with just a suitcase and a duffel bag. But he doesn't wear all the things that he brought. So I just asked him, 'Why are you carrying all this stuff around with you? Do you need it all?' He gave most of his stuff to Goodwill and then didn't need the suitcase anymore."

While laughing, I asked for clarification, "You are saying that he only brought a duffel bag and a suitcase, and you were giving him slack about having too many things?"

"Yep. Now he just has half a duffel bag full..."

Fun fun fun till my daddy takes the car keys away.

Just found out today. Next week is SPRING BREAK! I'm totally going to Cancun. Maybe the "hottest 25 under 25" can be adapted to the "not bad 30 under 30."

Haiku

We had a delayed opening at UNCA today because the roads were dusted with snow. Here is a haiku from a barkeeper at Bobo who wore an ascot in shades of black and white. He created it like a Mad-Lib. I asked him for syllables and he filled in the words.

There are two interpretations:

Pentatonically
We have stepped aside ourselves
Into lush boroughs

or

Pentatonically
We have stepped aside ourselves
Into lush burrows

I think he intended the latter, but I originally heard it as the former (perhaps stepping into Queens or the Bronx?).

Asheville Cycling

Tonight the City Council voted on a comprehensive bike plan to make bike lanes and make it safer and more accessible to ride bikes in the city. There were many of us who wore bike helmets to the meeting to show our support for the initiative. There were experts talking about obesity, money, tourism, and clean air. They had many numbers and studies and were more eloquent than I can be right now.

All but one couple who spoke were in support of the plan that came out of a year-long study. This couple was a farmer (who also mentioned that he was a former marine and had shrapnel in the arm) who didn't want HIS property taxes to go to those hippies/yuppies on bikes (as if they don't pay property taxes) and his wife who, ironically enough, is a PE teacher. She said, "I do want it to be safe for the kids to ride to school and I'm all for a good 15 minutes of exercise a day on bikes, but it costs money." (When they are repaving the roads, I suppose the extra paint to put in bike lanes is just too much.)

Then, one Councilman who did not support the initiative because it was a "fantasy" said, "We have sidewalks that no kids use to walk to school and you know why? Because they have to walk past prostitutes and drug dealers and they are scared. Not of getting hit by a car, but of the neighborhoods they live in. And I think that until we solve that problem, those bike lanes aren't going to do any good." We all were laughing at this red herring when someone muttered, "Geez, his suit alone probably costs more than my bike."

He also said that the cities with great bike options (Portland, San Francisco) are elite. And we don't want Asheville to be elite. Here's some irony to his comments:
*one of the presentations before this one was about tourism and everyone was patting each other on the back when they heard that wealthy empty-nesters were the ones coming here and spending money.
*the city is getting more and more gentrified every year
*most of the people who ride bikes leave near the neighborhoods with prostitutes and drug dealers. and they are still riding bikes. I said, "well geez, if kids are scared to walk, at least they can go faster on bikes to get away..."
* The funniest, though, is that they passed something around $1.25 million to work on irrigation systems on the golf course.

Funny. Anyhow, the resolution passed and we were happy. Neighbor and Roomie and I celebrated after we were quipping jokes in the "overflow" room at the courthouse. I even drank a beer. Maybe I'll go pump up my tires and wipe off the old dirt on my two wheeler.

Love Your Sexy Body

I just found out that this is National Love Your Body Week. Above is a cool poster that I found
on the University of Texas website.



This is the one at UNCA. It's by Byron Brown:

I think I like the one above, too.

For me, this week is more than just great poster designs. For me, it's more than the activities that college campuses are hosting (forums on eating disorders, art shows depicting all different body types, dances, lectures, throw away the scale parties...).

For me, like for many others, this week needs to happen all of the time. My long and tedious story involves more than fat grams, control, and the size of my jeans. I can't teach anyone anything about it, but I can tell my story and hope that no one follows my self-destructive obsessions. I can introduce people to beautiful ways to know their bodies-- the beauty of climbing and swimming without worrying about harness or bathing suit sizes.

Adventuring and risk saved me from my own control. I can't bring myself to give the advice, generalizations, and wishes for self-love that seem so cliche and blah. Instead, here is a poem by Lucille Clifton:

Homage to My Hips

these hips are big hips

they need space to move around in.

they don’t fit into little petty places.

these hips are free hips.

they don’t like to be held back.

these hips have never been enslaved,

they go where they want to go

they do what they want to do.

these hips are mighty hips.

these hips are magic hips.

i have known them

to put a spell on a man

and spin him like a top!

........................................................................................................................................

Bless your sexy body-------------------

overheard

When: On the way to our caving trip
Where: TAASC bus, seat behind me
Who: Two ten year old boys

Z: You know, before the Civil War, this slave was hiding out and trying to get North. He found this cave that went like 1500 feet straight down and--

A: Well, how did he get into it if it were that steep?

Z: He climbed down. He was hiding. Anyway, he found this whole group of Indians down there who had been living there for as long as they could remember.

A: Whoa. How did they get down there?

Z: They didn't know. They didn't even know they were in a cave that went somewhere else. I think that one guy moved his family there and then they raised all these other people through time. They ate like, things in the cave.

A: Like what?

Z: Mushrooms, and little things that were in there. And the guy didn't go out of the cave. He learned their language and lived with them.

A: Well how do people know about it if he never came up?

Z: He did actually come up just one time. It was a long time and the Civil War had happened already and he followed the cave up. But someone built a church the field that the cave opening was in. So he came up, but then had to knock on the floor of the church! When he got out, people were screaming. And all he said was, "Hi," and then he went back into the hole. And they were so shocked.

A: What was he wearing? The same clothes from when he went in?

Z: No. He was wearing fur because that's what these cave people made their clothes out of. They just had little dead animal fur in there.

A: Really?

Z: Yep. I read it in a book.




Now, while I think I read this story when I was 10-ish as well and was equally as mystified, I think that Z took some liberties with the details in order to be able to answer his friend's questions. It was like having a Wikipedia expert in the bus.

Enchanted

Saw the best movie tonight.

Yes. It's Disney.

Yes. Roomie and I made several phone calls to some lucky ladies and fellas.

Yes. We sang, "I've been dreamin' of a true love's kiss! I've been dreamin' of a big brown dog!"

Yes. It was enchanted.

Rescue me.

Here are some photos from the last few days. We are practicing first aid/evacuation techniques in TAASC. I asked the kids to be purposely blurry so that I could post them on my blog. One does show some faces, but I love the perspective and how Connor (our canine friend) is on the picnic table. That is pretty normal.

It's been an interesting week so far.

I flew through the air during a run and landed on my face and knee (below... it looks and feels a lot worse...);

Check out the moon boots in the photo. They are one of the best gifts ever. Notice that I'm talking on the phone in the one below and wearing leisure wear.the kiddos carried some litters with small and large people;

They are tootsie rolling someone through a tight space between two tight trees above...

While doing the litter carries, some students weren't listening to their peer leader. In frustration, she said, could you PLEASE pass this litter through the trees? One 8-year old responded, "Could you PLEASE not micromanage us?"

Other things aren't so easily captured by my little camera:

the lunar eclipse crept clay red like cave dirt; I reminded myself that I am content when alone; I blatantly lied; I joined the economics club's stock trading contest (mostly as an experiment); I commiserated with a close friend who is feeling frozen in a couple of ways; I felt nostalgic then realistic and hopeful then skeptical; the daffodils peeked out only to freeze back into the earth. Tonight I feel like tucking into heavy covers.

Total Eclipse of the Heart

Tonight there is a total eclipse of the moon at around 10:20pm (Eastern Standard Time). Check out this diagram on the NASA website to see the timeline. As I'm excited about this, I'm trying to think of the best place to see it... I read somewhere that it might be turn bright or blood orange and even turquoise. I love moments like these that have the potential to make me feel small and connected like sitting on my backpack during lightning storms.

As I was thinking about writing this post last night, I started singing the words from, "Total Eclipse of the Heart." I wish I knew all of the lyrics, but it sounded like, "Turn around, every now and then I get a little bit lonely and dah dahdadada dadadada dah dah... turn around and I get a little tired of listening to the sound of my tears... TURN AROUND bright eyes... and I need you tonight and I need you more than EVER and if you only hold me tight... I'll be holdin' on FOREVER..."

After I got out of the shower, I asked Roomie, "Do you know what that song means?"

She said, "No, but you've been singing it for the last hour."

I laughed, and she added that it's probably about someone who is so in love that her heart is totally eclipsed by love. I thought it was about someone with unrequited love who is pining. I called tinytinbird and she agreed with Roomie.

I asked her if it would make sense to link "Total Eclipse of the Heart" with the unrequited friendship that I have with my friend who is angry with me. She said, "No."

I started remembering the connection between Brain and this song. When we were in college, we used to perform at open mike night in the dining hall during dinner. Most of the time, we told innocent jokes and used Nate as the protagonist. We'd read these jokes in the Country magazines that Brain's grandma would send to him and then repeat them during dinner. Nate would leave as soon as we walked on stage. (I'll have to post some of these jokes later. They are really wholesome!)

Sometimes, we'd sing songs like Fleetwood Mac's "Everywhere" with an interpretive dance. I still remember the moves to "Can you hear me callin'? Out your name... you know I'm falling and I don't know what to say..." It was a hoot. We brought the house down.

I don't remember if "Total Eclipse of the Heart" was one of those songs, or if I just remember Brain knowing all of the lyrics from another situation. It impressed me, though.

What impressed me even further was seeing that Brain's sisters still have the same love for this song. In December, I witnessed the passionate interpretation (again, knowing all of the lyrics) of Bonnie Tyler's hit song.

Tinytin suggested that I might do a compare/contrast essay about my easy and fun relationship with Brain verses this more difficult and complicated relationship with this other friend. Without getting too analytical (I do have to do some work today...), I guess I just have these two hypothetical images in my mind:

Both involve watching the eclipse. One is with my new friend, the other is with Brain.

In the first situation, I can picture myself timing a serenade of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" to match the total eclipse of the moon. I can picture this friend being angry at me and telling me that I'm insensitively teasing him. I'd apologize and miss the moon for being eclipsed by reasons and explanations...

In the second situation, I picture Brain creating choreography with his lovely bride to this song. He would have her walking in front of him as the eclipse would be beginning. He'd start softly, "turn around," she'd have some dramatic moves, and he'd go on with the song as the eclipse continued. It would crescendo to the big moment when the eclipse would be completely happening and he would be singing, "I REALLY NEED YOU TONIGHT! Forever's gonna start tonight. Forever's gonna start tonight."

Let me live like this.

Renovation. Inspiration. Donation.

Look how tall the ceilings are...

Making upstairs a little more spacious. He needs a lot of head room to move around.

Here are some more photos from my superstar friend's house in Nashville. It's pretty dang awesome. I don't know if I've mentioned this guy's creativity and handwriting before... but it is truly inspirational. I'll post his updates as he goes. Also, here's my folks' blog about their work with Habitat of Hancock County MS (not New Orleans like I had thought...): http://patersonhabitat.blogspot.com/

Check it out. Give them shout outs. Do your own service. Good night. Sleep tight. Watch the bedbugs and all of that.

like Tucker with a rock or squeaky toy

This is quick and random.

As I am doing work (really! I even have the little "do not disturb" logo up on my gmail), I am playing with the idea of "sensible self-denial." I research 19 grants or I write one section and then I allow myself an email check or a blog post. That way I'm not completely distracted.

However, I find that when a friend writes me back consistently and often on email, I itch to check it. Or if I see that someone has made a comment on my blog, I have to restrain my little finger from clicking over to check it out. I'm like a kid who sees a brand new mountain bike and trail outside of her classroom and can't wait until that bell rings.

Right now, I'm trying to grovel a little bit to a friend who doesn't want to be my friend. He hasn't answered any of my calls. I finally sent him an email this morning, and he actually wrote back! I was so excited that I wrote right back. And now, I've been checking on every study break possible. Refreshing the email window and hoping that he wrote me something else. It's like passing notes in class and waiting to see what the person circled from options of "yes" "no" or "maybe."

Okay. Study break time up. Back to work. Right after I check the email one more time.

President's Day

Happy President's Day! Brain used to say that it's the most romantic day of the year. I hope he's giving his lovely bride a President's Day treat today. Maybe I'll send out some cards... Like the one he made once with a picture of George H.W. Bush that said on the back, "Read my lips... then kiss them." To all the single gals and guys out there: get ready. Love is in the air.

Highlights From The Weekend

1. Swing dancing with a bartender
2. Doing my taxes with J. Ru
2.5 Watching this Obama music video (Yes, we can) by Will.i.am from the Black Eyed Peas:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jjXyqcx-mYY
2.75 Laughing on the phone with tinytinbird
3. Working on a grant for Outward Bound
3.81 Looking at postsecret and Modern Love on Sunday
4. "Cleansing" on Saturday night and Sunday morning (actually, that was not fun, but cathartic)
5. Writing letters (oh, whoops, that might not happen)
6. Reading Exit Ghost by Philip Roth
8. Breakfast at 1:30pm on Saturday morning
9. Having a good friend help me while I was cleansing (see number 4)
10. Going to yoga class (whoops, totally forgot)
11. Running the Sunset loop as hard as I could
12. Writing a press release for TAASC
12.99 Buying some books to give as gifts at Malaprops
13. Sending packages to my neices and nephews from the Pirate Captain Morgan (he's marooned on the island of Superheroes and needs their help to get back to his ship... "he" sent them packages to help plan his trip home.
14. Napping
15. Studying.
16. Seeing a hazy circle around the moon
17. Being inspired by my parents, who are going to New Orleans to build houses with the New Orleans Area Habitat For Humanity for a week
18. Reading Gary Snyder. Including this one:


New Moon Tongue

Faint new moon arc, curl
again in the west. Blue eve,
deer-moving dusk.
Purple shade in a plant-realm--
a million years of sniffs,
licks, lip and
reaching tongue



Life in town.

Tucker

I've been asking some major life questions lately (about which my uncle wrote me the letter that I read while my tire was being patched...). Relationships have been interesting. Plans have been stirring me in so many directions that I feel like I'm on that zipper ride that comes to Fire Department sponsored carnivals that travel to different towns. Thoughts of volunteering and service are on my fringes. I've been working and not working well. I've been creative and social. Life has been full. And, as I mentioned in Bits and Pieces, I feel anxiety and happy anticipation at the same time.

My roomie came back last night and we went out to breakfast (lunch, really, since it was 1:30pm by the time that we were seated) with another friend who is on his own journey. (That's such an Asheville thing to say! Next thing I'll be saying, "It's really an organic process...")

Anyhow, while my roomie was gone, I spent a considerable amount of time with her dog, Tucker. He is also neurotic and obsessed with chasing rocks and rubber chickens. He's a great friend.
It has been the one part of my life that is so simple. We wake up; he licks my face as I squeal and hide it; he gets into bed and curls into the nook of my knees; we sleep for another 15 minutes. We get up. He eats. I put on the kettle. He drinks water and then tries to lick my legs to dry off his tongue. I squeal again. We play while I drink tea and turn on my computer. I work. He naps on the couch. We walk to the empty lot so he can pee. I work or go to class. He comes with me to the town office or to TAASC meetings, or stays at home if necessary. I go for a run with him. We stretch (he looks for rocks to drop at my feet). We watch the sunset and feel lucky. We go home. He eats. We go back out for him to take care of business.... My drama is filled into this skeleton of Tucker's day.

almost like an adult

This past week has been BIG in my self-sufficiency.

First, I had a nail in my tire the other day.

(Not in a great mood at about it first, as I mentioned on Nashville 2).


However, it was the first time I've changed a tire. (Actually, I didn't really change it, but I watched my coworker do it and learned like that. Don't laugh too hard at this being a big step for me: I'm a visual learner.)


My other coworkers laughed and said, "kd aren't you an Outward Bound Instructor? Don't you need to know how to change the van tires?"

Technically, yes. We have extensive tests to drive the 15 passenger vans (high center of gravity, easily tipping, no students in the way back seat, turn off overdrive when on dirt roads, don't drive on the soft shoulders on the Forest Service roads, check all of those fluids... see, I know all the answers). However, I haven't had to change a tire.

And that's what assistant instructors are for.

I could use AAA, bribe my co-instructor with a great performance evaluation form, tell the kids it's a team intiative... there are so many ways to not be self-sufficient. (I know it's one of our "four pillars" but I like physical fitness and compassion better.)

After my coworker "helped" me, I went to a tire place that my friend at Outward Bound suggested.

The tire guys were nice and down to the sweet Swannanoa earth. While I was checking out this spinning tire thing, I said, "While you have the one off, why not just switch 'em all up?" (Actually, I asked how often I had to get them rotated and they told me 5000 miles and I sucked in while curling the lower corners of my lips down as if to say, "Oh boy." Like when my cousin's daughter wanted to sew something to fix it, and my cousin's husband made that face and said, "Ooo, I think it'd be better if we used the glue gun." As a result of that face, they asked if I wanted them to do it right away. I said yes, please.)

The most important part of this interaction actually happened after the tires were back on my car and all fixed. I was reading a letter from my uncle and sitting on a wooden flower box outside while the man was fixing my tire. When I came into the garage, he had the tire propped against the back of the car and was standing there, looking like he was waiting for something. I thought for my money, and fumbled for my wallet, but he said, "Oh, can you unlock the back of the car so I can put the spare back?" I said, "Oh, it's open."

I was about to add that I could put the spare tire back in the car myself, when he said under his breath, "Really? Most people lock it when we're working on their tires."

Surprised I said, "What? Really?"

He said quietly, "Yeah, you're just one of the good ones, I guess."

It was a simple exchange, but it seemed like something that he considered before. It was a strange commentary on class and perceptions, I thought.

*****
The second thing is going to happen this weekend, I think, when----get ready------ I'm going to do my taxes. Actually, a friend is going to help me (remember, visual learner), but it is a big move, I think, from sending it all away to my parents' accountant. Wow.


These are the first steps towards being a 28 year old, I think. And this is the big 28th year. 2008.

We have an associate who now has an assistant to do things like his taxes, get him to the front of a line in the DMV, type emails, write personal Christmas cards, floss his teeth... you know, the things for which he is too busy and important... So I'm thinking one of two things:

1. I learn how to do these things so that I can say that I pulled myself up from my bootstraps and cleaned my own toilet when I was 27... for my biography later. Or

2. I stop learning to be autonomous so that it's not hard to transition back to someone taking care of my every whim when I'm famous.

I don't know which one is better. For now, I'm grateful for the help that folks have given to me over the last few days. Good help is easy to come by, I guess. (Tongue is in my cheek.)



....................................
Confidential to the author of After the Roomdogs: Sorry I didn't get this done by 4pm (it's 4 pm in the ocean somewhere right now...) to help you procrastinate. Also, next time you talk with your old Roomdog, please tell her that I'm sorry for being a micro-manager all of those years back. I didn't know what I was doing. I'll be her personal assistant any day. *** One of the reasons I did that confidential business is because I used to love it when there'd be one at the end of a Dear Abby column. I always wished that it was me to whom she whispered.

Post By 4pm

Dear Reader,

I have been having a full and interesting last couple of days. So I haven't posted. However, I'll have one up by 2:30 or 3ish this afternoon. I put 4pm on the subject line to give myself some space to stretch out my shoulders. My right shoulder is hurting a lot, too. Any ideas for mitigating the ouch?

Sincerely,

KD

** Side note: When the Carolina Day students first had a dress code this year (kahkis or black pants or skirts with a shirt that either has no writing or just "Carolina Day School" embroidery in navy, light blue, yellow, red, or white), they were pissed off. On a bus ride, I suggested they have a sit-in (great idea at a private school that costs something like $15,000 a year). They said they got in trouble for even just having a petition. So I said, "Well, write letters to the principal..." They crafted them aloud on the bus, one at a time. The little 8 year olds had the best ones. They sounded like this (names have been changed for privacy):

Dear Ms. Potts,

I think these uniforms are idiotic and stupid and dumb.

Sincerely,
Caitlin McCormick



Dear Ms. Potts,

I don't like these uniforms. We look terrible.

Sincerely,
Fredrick Jones



Each sounded something like this. I loved that they said, "sincerely" in each one.
I will write a real post this afternoon after hanging with Greg and then one of my favorite babies.

Sincerely,

KD

Caving Photos

Here are some photos from that caving trip. None of the Gremlin grabbing my ankle, but some tight spots. The one above is a bit spotty, but shows some of the cave conditions. Don't you love our suits? I want to wear mine all the time.

Here's me crawling around some formations. Gremlin almost thought he had to go through a slit that was about five inches high until another kid found this squeeze around. I felt like I was in a video game... going from level to level from room to tiny room.

Here are some crystals in the cave. Close-up

Here, going through the tight squeeze final pinch. The photographer is actually crouched in a tiny spot to take this picture. The whole crawl took over a half-an-hour to get through.

Here's us in camp, eating dinner. It's pitch dark other than our headlamps and this flash. It reminded me of some fake museum exibit with the clay floor and the rolling mounds. We made sure to tag the walls with "TAASC WUZ HERE 2008!" after this dance party:

Nashville Part 2

I didn't hear from Speed about whether or not I could post pictures that he sent to me. I was about to do it anyway (since I am bold and he didn't immediately write me back with a roaring, "NO!"), but then I actually heard from him and he said, "Sure" in his calm voice. I needed to hear that voice (even though it was through a text message and I didn't really hear it...) because it's been a bleh day. I had been bleh and then I ran over a nail and punctured my back tire and then I was really bleh.

All is working out, though, I got them rotated after they fixed. The folks there were super nice, too. These pictures are nice, too. I didn't put any ones from inside his house on this site.
You need to have a secret password to get to see those ones...

Quotes From the Land Down Under

We went caving this weekend. There was a lot of belly crawling, river walking, rolling, sliding, crawling, squeezing and a little crying and grunting. We saw cool formations, salamander-like things, and many small brown bats (which were hibernating). My arms are bruised and I'm happily tired.

We did some tight crawls; one was without headlamps and was magical. Another was long and tight, squirling around stalagmites with a final pinch at the end to a magical room called the "radon room" because someone once tested it and found it to have extraordinary levels of radon in it. We didn't stay there long, but it had incredible formations and crystals.

At first, I felt like that part in the Goonies when they found that ship. I actually said, "Down here, we're on our time!" These 13 year olds didn't pick up on it. (They did, however, get a Star Wars reference to the big worm holes on that other planet.) One kid hid under a ledge and grabbed my ankle with a Gremlin-like noise. It freaked me out. I'll tell you what! He claimed it to be one of the highlights of his trip. Hey, I do what I can to keep the kids happy.

While we were exploring, someone got the song, "I come from the land down under..." stuck in everyone else's heads. The Gremlin made some comment about calling Australia "the land down under" because it was the closest to hell without burning up.

Someone retorted, "That's not true. You can burn in Australia. From the sun. It's called a SUNburn."
.............

Before going to sleep (at about 8pm), several kids were hanging out and fooling around. As they were walking back to their sleeping bags, the Gremlin said to me, "You know, Katie, I just found out that fun does come at a price." He paused, and then pulled out his broken spare flashlight. As he held it between us, he continued, "And it costs $5.99."

We slept in a basecamp that was about 20 feet up from the main cave. The cave has a slick clay floor, and although there are steps worn into the cliff climbing up to this large loft, it's slippery and steep. So we set up a handline to ascend with our packs and descend to the river when necessary. At night, we pulled it up to the top. Despite the treacherous approach, we had visitors in the night. First, two folks who seemed to be with a group came up, saw the rope and one of the instructors, and went back to tell their group that they'd have to find another spot. That was fine and respectful.

The second time, however, seemed more usual to our cave camping experiences. We've found that drunk local people seem to come into the cave around 1am. They seem to throw rocks, smoke cigarettes, drink, yell, and scare the blood out of me. The last time we camped with our kids in the cave, we were in a more exposed spot where it wouldn't be hard to walk right to us and mess with us or our packs. I was a lot more relaxed sleeping up in the loft-- at least when I went to sleep.

When the loud people came splashing and yelling, and when I could smell the cigarette smoke, I felt my primal fear. There's something really vulnerable about being in my sleeping bag and hearing them approaching. I could feel my heart panting and I made myself as small as possible. I'm glad that one of my co-instructors was "guarding" us by sleeping near the entrance to our camp. I'm glad that these people didn't hurt us. Two guys actually climbed up the slick entrance. I listened as they yelled down, "Hey, ya'll wanna rope?"

Someone from below said, "Why? Is there one there?"

At this point, our guarding co-instructor said, "Hey!"

The guys yelled to him, "Ya'll campin'?"

He said, "Yeah."

There was a slight pause before the guys said, "Ya'll sleepin?

Our co-instructor said, "Yeah," but he told us the next morning that he wished he had replied, "No, we're just waiting here in the dark at 1:30 in the morning for our human sacrifice to arrive. I guess you're it." I'm glad he didn't say that. I'm glad that the only bruises I have are from the clay and rock. Fun, after all, DOES come at a price.

On the Claw and the Tootsie Roll.

At the start of our TAASC meeting today, Greg, my South African co-instructor, was joking about an ace bandage wrap on one boy's hand. The kids have been practicing splinting arms and legs and know some basics such as stabilizing above and below the injury, putting the patient in a position of comfort, and being able to check for circulation.

This ace bandage was supposed to be for his wrist, but it was only wrapped around the hand and fingers. It tightly bound the fingers together (even the thumb) into a hook of a hand. It was so tight that his fingers were stacked on top of each other. His hand was cupped like the front leg of a praying mantis.



It looked like the Penguin's hand from Batman. Except without the thumb-like thing:





(I wanted to get the web address for this picture to credit it, but couldn't find the link again...)

We called it "the claw."

This meeting was about safely lifting injured people; packing them into litters (heavy-duty stretchers); and then carrying them through the woods. We were practicing for search and rescue scenarios or evacuation situations. Our praying mantis said that he could only use one hand, but he was effortlessly flailing that wrist around like he was a jazz dancer. Seeing this, Greg replied, "Nah, man, hook that claw on." So he did.

We had the group carry the litter around some obstacles in the woods. They practiced passing the litter around trees, lowering it as a group, and squeezing it through tight spaces by putting it on its side. This move is called "tootsie roll" in some wilderness first responder books, and it's like moving a couch through a doorway. Or, imagine the top of your hand is the stretcher with the person strapped into it on top. Most of the time you can carry it flat with your palm facing down and in the same plane. Sometimes to squeeze it through a tight place, though, you have to turn it on its side. Take your hand and turn it so your pinkie finger is down and thumb up.

Greg introduced this maneuver, so the kids pronounced it with his South African accent, not knowing that it was spelled like that chocolately chewy goody, the "tootsie roll." I think most Americans would pronounce that candy as if it rhymed with playing "footsie" under the table.(Unless they are homeschooled and taught to say "bag el" or "Sandra Bull lock.")

Instead of this 'merican pronounciation, all but one sharp kid called it "toot see" like "tutu" or "toot that horn and see." Just like Greg. While they were planning, they'd say things like, "Okay, you two stand on that side and we'll toot see her through here." Or, "Wait until we're ready before you toot see roll her on the side!"

When the kids were learning knots, he taught the munter hitch.

Here it is:

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Munter2.gif. Got this link...)

So I would pronounce this "mun ster" (as in rhyming with Attila the "Hun" ster). By the way, isn't it great that I know phonics so well? I should write for a dictionary company. Forget those little symbols when you can explain it like this. How do you pronounce "belay?" Hmm, how about rhymes with tilapia "filet." Carabiner? "carpet cleaner." But I digress.

So munter hitch like "hunter kitsch" (you know, knicknack bears wearing plaid shirts and hats).

Greg, however, pronounces it as if it sounds like "moon-teh." I'm not doing his accent justice. I should ask him how he would rhyme it. I loved having all of the little TAASC kids run up to get checked off on their knots and yell, "I have the moonta heech!"

It's rubbing off, on all of us though. When we were packing backpacks for this weekend's trip, I said to Greg, "We mustn't forget the helmets!"

As if "we mustn't forget them whilst we pack the bus for our holiday in the cave." What a giggle.

Oh, the praying mantis/penguin/clawboy's hands could also look like t-rex claws.

Man alive, all of these things make me laugh.

Bits and Pieces Part One

First, I must apologize to my close family and friends for monotonously droning, "I'm so unfocused... I'm not balancing my work/study/social time well...I've lost creativity..." My sister got the brunt of it twice as we started watching The Office (at Christmas and then last weekend). I don't know what it is about starting to watch that show... Both times, in a very Sassafras way, she said, "Kates, don't worry about it right now. Let's just watch tv."

It must be even more frustrating for these patient family and friends that my complaining is often followed by the continuation of these same patterns. My social life has gotten to the point of "double booking" (as someone on my calendar put it last night) in which I stop by one social function on the way to another; which is then followed by hanging out late night somewhere else. (Mom and Dad, don't fret I don't really do this on "school nights.") To all of those friends and family: Sorry. AND I'm on a great roll today so the complaining will stop. At least for today. I think I'll even stay in tonight!

(By the way, I'm not procrastinating by writing on my blog right now; I'm on my way to a meeting and really can't start something new in this little time).

For all of the bad reasons for going out, it has also been pretty fabulous. As a result of being so social, I have started to think about the relationships in my life now. I've been blessed with forming new relationships through a long string of connections in my little city and little community. The same guy who mentioned "double booking" asked how I have such an extensive network (he probably didn't expect the long-winded story about how I met all of these people. Expect long winded from now on, kid.)

Additionally, I've been remembering people from other points in my life. My trip to Nashville highlighted the connections from different phases; I visited with high school friends, my sister and family friends, a college pal, and an Outward Bound friend. Lately, thanks to Facebook and other shenanigans, I've gotten in touch with Vacamas folks and people from the primitive community. I've reconnected with many "lost"aquaintances.

I wonder if my current friends will later become those from my "Asheville phase" of life. Or, I wonder if they will be lifelong friends. Lifelong friends are like players on an "all-star" team. For instance, although being "Colby friends," Sponge and his family are also on my team. Of course I want all the folks to be on this team, but we lose each other.

There's a great quote by Lois Cheney that I think speaks to the value of making those connections in the first place. We read it at the end on Outward Bound courses sometimes. It's a bit long, but it elucidates my thoughts so well.

I'm offering it to you who are a bit or piece of my life:

Bits and pieces,
Bits and pieces.

People, people important to you, people unimportant to you, cross your life, touch it with love and carelessness and move on. There are people who leave you and you breathe a sigh of relief and wonder why you ever came into contact with them. There are people who leave you and you breathe a sigh of remorse and wonder why they had to go away and leave such a gaping hole. Children leave parents; friends leave friends. Acquaintances move on, people change houses. People grow apart. Enemies hate and move on. Friends love and move on. You think on the many who have moved into your hazy memory. You look on those at present and wonder.

I believe in a master plan in lives moving people in and out of each other’s lives, and each leaves a mark on the other. You find you are made up of bits and pieces of all who ever touched your life, and you are more because of it, and you would be less if they had not touched you.

Hope that you accept the bits and pieces in humility and wonder, and never question, and never regret.

Bits and pieces,
Bits and pieces.

Nashville

We had a great time. No pictures of Mmiller and his ladyfriend or the Speedy one on this post.

No pictures of big buildings. Only driving fun and country fun. This was before we started rocking out to 80s music and dancing to some funk in the gas station parking lot. And before the crappy driving on the way back through the rain and near the big trucks.

This was after we hiked to the waterfall, but before Sophie went under the fence and towards the edge of the cliff.

This was before the big waterfall.

This was the big waterfall. It was before Sophie found a skull.

This is after we moved the furniture, after we hiked, before we ate, before we drank, before Sass and kd went into the big metropolis.

It's also before kd was inspired by Speed's style, demolition, and whiteboard.

More to come.

Primitive

The other day in econ101, my professor was talking about Adam Smith aka the "father of economics" (although, as my teacher pointed out, he really was an all around smarty pants: Italian literature, ethics, rhetoric. Also, he was synthesizing many other people's thoughts into one analysis... it wasn't like he woke up and said, "Hey, I have this great idea! I'll call it market capitalism!"). Regardless of all of this, I like to refer to Adam Smith as "papa econ."

Smith was waaay into free markets and trade. (I think I'll write it on my test like this... "he was like totally into division of labor.")

We were talking about why trade (even local trade) is good for society-- mainly that people can be more productive in doing their best talent and then trading for other things. For instance, if I made really great marmalade but sucked at making beef jerky, then I could spend most of my time concentrating on fruit and save the salting for some other hands. Then the meat gal and I could trade; we'd be the most productive, which would be great for us and society.

He was trying to explain this with a modern day example. He said, "Think about everything you don't make yourself everyday. Yeah, you might make breakfast, but did you grow the coffee beans, and roast them; grow the wheat, grind it into meal, mix it with sugar that you grew and harvested, bake it to make cereal; and milk the cow to put on top? And that's just breakfast! Could you imagine making your own clothes? Shoes? Gathering or hunting all of your own food? Building your own shelter from materials that you made yourself? What a horrible and difficult existence!"

I had a little chuckle when I thought about my friends that do live that way (mostly) and think that it's a wonderful existence. There are entire communities of people who are interested in living like this. I remember an acquaintance from that community saying, "You know, I like having leather shoes and nice things... I just like to cut out all of the steps in the middle. I'd rather cut to the chase and make them myself than rely on someone else to kill the animal, tan it, send it to a factory, sew it, send it to a store, and sell it to me."

Oh, you peasant. Obviously, I like some aspects of her lifestyle: the connection to nature, the sense of awareness, the community, the level of skills to take care of herself. And I like buying as locally as possible. However, until I master building a computer, I think I'll stick to my marmalade.

Off to see my Sass.

Back to posting on Sunday. I have one waiting in the wings...