Adventure Whisper

'MASKS' - by Shel Silverstein

2011-12-02T17:15:00.000-08:00

She had blue skin,
And so did he.
He kept it hid
And so did she.
They searched for blue
Their whole life through,
Then passed right by -
And never knew.

Je Vois

2011-06-02T04:17:00.000-07:00

Today is my first day of EMT-IV summer classes. I have not yet been to class, but I sit here waiting to go. Hello Future! I've always wondered what you would look like. You are different from what I had imagined, but my imagination could only go so far and could only imagine what I had already experienced. I often wondered if you would even come. Oh yes, I will admit that I wondered, sometimes fiercely. I still wonder what others of your relatives I will meet, or if I will meet them. But I am learning to wait for you with temperance, while riding Life in The Present. I will keep watching as Future slowly and steadily morphs into Present, and then Past. May I treat you with respect, and may you grant me Wisdom.

Lilly-Bug

2011-05-27T15:04:00.000-07:00

I let her back inside and she made a few sounds to let me know that she is hungry...nay, starving! I ignore her because it is not yet time to eat, and she flops herself dejectedly onto the floor next to her food dish. She looks at it longingly and pitifully stretches out her paws to reach for it....her last hope gone as Life slowly seeps out of her being - she barely reaches it with the tip of her paw. WHOA!! What is that!??!?! Her tail flicks into the air and she catches the motion with the corner of her eye......POOF! she is now chasing her tail! Food dish forgotten, and her tail is now her prey. An ant crawls aimlessly across the floor, unaware that danger lurks only a few feet away (miles to the little ant). POUNCE! She laps up the ant in one swoop, and it is now no more. She gallops over to the window and looks out. There is that mangy little fox who cries every night outside the window. 'WAAAOOOOWW! WAAAAOOOW!!' he screams every night around 2am. If you have never heard a fox scream for its lost love at 2am, it is an eerie cry. It is like a ghost, paler than most foxes, and flits from garden to garden, and bounds off of fallen trees, turning corners and looking in nooks and crannies - it's shadow frightening it into the middle of the yard...some invisible force cracks its whip and the frightened little crying fox scurries away and through the fence. She watches the fox as he stands on a log just outside the window - sniffing the air with his face in the wind. She is curious about the fox, but perhaps she would not like to meet him after all. She is shy anyway....

Hatchling's adventures

2011-02-18T09:22:00.000-08:00

I have been doing projects lately - mostly wood-working.

This is my bed...my loft bed that Harry and I made. I now have a futon mattress that fits perfectly inside. I know that my room is a mess...I am working on this as well. Apparently it does not take first priority...as maybe it should.

This is a candle idea that I got from a gift that someone gave to me. I am going to make more. It is a flat rock that I have drilled a hole into and put a wick. Then I glued the lid of a jar to the rock. The idea is to bury the jar in the garden, and have a candle in the rock. Illusions....
Finally, my carving project. This is a tea rack that I am making for Anne and myself. She adores owls, and I like Sycamore trees. So, I bought some poplar wood (very soft wood) and carved the word TEA on one side, and then an owl sitting on a Sycamore tree branch. Since the shot was taken, I have since added another branch, and carved some leaves and flowers into the plank that has TEA written on it. How can you tell if it is a Sycamore tree? (you may well ask). If you look at a Sycamore tree, the bark that is near the base is small and jotty. As the bark goes up to the top of the tree, there is that beautiful distinctive smooth White bark where the other bark has peeled off. I was able to attempt to recreate this effect on the board with the help from Harry's wood carving tools. They are not perfect, but I am hoping to sharpen my skills here

The House By The Side Of The Road

2011-02-15T17:39:00.000-08:00

Anne gave this poem to me, and I fell in love with it immediately ::smiles::

'There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In peace of their self-content;
There are souls, like stars, that dwell apart,
In a fellowless firmament;
There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths
Where highways never ran;
But let me live by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road
Where the race of men go by -
The men who are good and the men who are bad,
As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorner's seat,
Or hurl the cynic's ban;
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man...'

~Sam Walter Foss

HA HA HA bless your soul...

2010-10-01T16:34:00.000-07:00

People make such interesting assumptions at times...and say things...

2 men walk into Village Market, both in their late 30's early 40's (I saw their ID's because they bought beer). One of them is decked out in his pseudo motorcycle outfit, with jeans and a black t-shirt that has a guy on it with jeans and a black t-shirt. In his ears he wore maybe 12-gauge silver hoop earrings. The other had a larger chest and was trimmed to perfection and wore a moss-green T that had the tattoo swirly design on it. This one with the green shirt asks 'who is singing?'...I have Ella Fitzgerald playing. 'AH!' says the one in the black shirt, 'I know him!......Her!' he grimaces at me in apology, 'I caught myself' he tells me. The one in the green shirt chimes in, still wanting to finish the story he'd apparently begun, 'They play this shit at my work, 24-7. You know, I listen to some pretty alternative stuff, and the MINUTE I turn off my car I hear this BLARING...it's all they play at my work...soft jazz that is like elevator music...puts me to sleep!' 'Ah, so you must be pretty tired of it, then' I reply in pure conversation. 'OH NO!' he says to me, 'They just play it all the time. I sell, you know, BMW's and stuff.' Am I supposed to know what significance that holds for me? Am I supposed to be impressed? And as he walks out the door, 'I get so sick of that stuff...but THIS is great'. His buddy looks at me and rolls his eyes, and I hear the other guy getting defensive as they walk out the door, '....What? I mean it!' and their voices trail off as the store door closes behind them.

Most of the time i just have to stand there and watch people talk.

"does that make me CRAZY!?...probably...." ~Gnarles Barkley

Creek's Side

2010-08-18T05:35:00.000-07:00

It is raining...I hear the drips through the thin-plate glass panels of my windows. The rain is a mist at this point, and the birds have come out and are chatting to each other. The air conditioner kicks on...it is right under my window, so I hear its rumble. There are actually 2 units - one downstairs and one upstairs, and they flow at different paces. Whenever I hear the rain I am taken back to a time when we lived in Lewisburg, TN. We used to have a creek, and it stretched all the way from our pond at one end of the property, to the street at the other end. The pond poured into it from a small hole in the side of its bank, and thus began the water's journey - first past the dog fence, and then the chicken fence, which were both connected to the white outbuilding (the white outbuilding having 3 separate sections in a row), then past the poor little Boxelder tree that never seemed to grow any taller, then past the Red Barn (which wasn't really a barn, but we called it that). There was a stretch of pure wooded area just beyond the red barn and it was thick and dense with trees and underbrush, and a little rock table that had a hole in one side that worked beautifully as a cup-holder. But Christa and I stomped and broke out a path just to the right of the creek, and this path stretched all the way down to the fat black locust tree where we burried Milo and Eco. Before this point, the creek was running as quickly as it could towards the far side of the property over to Mr. Rutledge's property. But at this stubby locust tree, it suddenly pooled and became deep and swirly, and then took a rushing leap to the left, as slick as you like, and headed straight for the road! There was something so alluring about The Road, not only to this silly spluttering creek, but also to our animals. Maybe it was a gravitational pull? They all seemed to think that was the 'Way to Freedom'. I don't know why they did not run the opposit direction and into the woods? But, again, there was something alluring that I think we humans did not understand...even the creek rushed towards it.
As it rushed, the creek passed a line of hedgeapple trees (p.s. those things are a pain when you are mowing...riding along and every few feet you have to: disengadge the mower so it wouldn't stall out, dismount because there were hidden hedgeapples in the tall grass, gather all the apples you found in that area, mount up, engadge, and put the dern mower back into 1st gear, then work your way back up to 3rd). This is the yard we called TENNESSEE because it was shaped like the state...only backwards. Christa noticed it one day, and it just kind of stuck. Mixed into the hedgeapple trees were honeysuckle vines and lots of other vines that liked to reach out and grab your clothes and arms and legs with their spikes. Just outside of the tree line was a small Sycamore tree. This one we were never able to climb, but it was a cute little tree. It grew straight and tall, sticking its top branches as high into the air as it could - and it always looked like it was trying hard to be as tall as its brother Sycamore down the way a bit. The taller one was the one we always climbed, and it was a fantastic climbing tree! I tried to climb the smaller one, but it was just too small. Anyway, the big Sycamore was at the end of the property line, and thus the last we ever saw of the creek. It hopped the fence at the edge of the property and joined the other creek that flowed parallel to the road - like ol' Bess who joined the Brumbies.

'The one thing necessary is a true interior and spiritual life, true growth, on my own, in depth in a new direction.' Thomas Merton

Marianne Williamson

2010-06-30T21:09:00.000-07:00

Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate,
but that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant,
Gorgeous, handsome, talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightening about shrinking
so that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God within us.
It is not just in some; it is in everyone.

And, as we let our own light shine, we consciously give
other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our fear,
our presence automatically liberates others.

~"A Return To Love: Reflections On The Principles Of A Course In Miracles". Harper Collins, 1992. Ch. 7, Sec. 3, pg. 109-191

considder the lillies of the field...

2010-02-08T13:07:00.000-08:00

This is my house in the snow ::smiles::
Meet "Grubbin Hood" - a little grub who has graced our messageboard for the past 3 months.

The other day I had hot chocolate with Amanda Pace at Provence. The hot chocolate was named, (appropirately enough) Chocolate Chaud (chocolate hot).
The marshmallow on top is homemade right there in the store! I got the peppermint one and Amanda got the Coconut (which I later regretted not getting the coconut). But it was so so tasty!
....and THIS is where I go hiking between classes on Thursday or if I need a break from studying on Wed. and Friday. It is a trail that heads back to a Civil War fort at Pinkerton Park. I like the walk and it gets me out of doors and clears my mind. I remember taking the Ives kids there once and we climbed small boulders and hiked the entire trail. Then Rachael peed her pants (poor thing). The poor little thing was just having so much fun that she didn't tell me that she needed to go potty. So she came back up to me crying...little snotty nose and rubbing her little eyes with her fist as she tried to tell me what happened between sobs. Nathan and I finally figured out what she was talking about and I took her aside and wrapped my bandanna around her hips like a skirt (it fit pretty well) and we walked back to the car. We wrapped her in a plastic bag, stopped by Sonic and bought slushies for everyone, then took her home and she took a bath as I read a story to her. Good times ::smiles::

Well, there is a little squirrel outside my window and my study-break is ended. So, "Let's go, Amigos!".

2010-01-29T20:00:00.000-08:00

I thought about sending this as an email, but I decided that this would be a better way and everyone can access it easily if they choose (or not, if they don't choose). Besides, no one but family reads it, and I am fine with being open now. I am still getting used to it, but that is all part of growing ::smiles:: So...

How does one live in "expectancy" and not "expectation"? I am reading a book and two ideas that were stated jumped out of the page and literally clopped on my heart like a tar on a railroad tie and have been there ever since. I must admit that it made me think...to moil and examine myself so much. These things I had never really thought of before.

In a book I am reading, God is talking to a man named Mac, and God says,

“And as my very essence is a verb…I am more attuned to verbs than nouns. Verbs,
such as confessing, repenting, living, loving, responding, growing, reaping, changing,
sowing, running, dancing, singing, and on and on. Humans, on the other hand, have a
knack for taking a verb that is alive and full of grace and turning it into a dead noun or
principle that reeks of rules: something growing and alive dies. Nouns exist because
there is a created universe and physical reality, but if the universe is only a mass of
nouns, it is dead. Unless ‘I am,’ there are no verbs, and verbs are what makes the
universe alive.”(p.204).
I admit that I understand all the words that are spoken, but...as far as how much that means I am still moiling over that. I remembered the song, "Luv is a Verb" by D.C. Talk from my childhood. All of the lyrics came pouring back to me as I contemplated this something that had apparently been planted in me at a very young age but had been laying dormant inside me waiting to germinate. So now it is now in the germination season as I am learning what that means and put it to action...the VERB-ness of it all!

A little later in the same book I read,

“Let’s use the example of friendship and how removing the element of life from a noun
can drastically alter a relationship…if you and I are friends, there is an expectancy that
exists within our relationship. When we see each other or are apart, there is expectancy
of being together, of laughing and talking. That expectancy has no concrete definition; it
is alive and dynamic and everything that emerges from our being together is a unique
gift shared by no one else. But what happens when I change that ‘expectancy’ to
‘expectation’ – spoken or unspoken? Suddenly, law has entered into our relationship.
You are now expected to perform in a way that meets my expectations. Our living
friendship rapidly deteriorates into a dead thing with rules and requirements. It is no
longer about you and me, but about what friends are supposed to do, or the
responsibilities of a good friend.”(p.205).
“Responsibilities and expectations are the basis of guilt and shame and judgment, and
they provide the essential framework that promotes performance as the basis for
identity and value. You know well what it is like to not live up to someone’s
expectations.”(205).
WOW! This stunned me and stumped me! As i think about my relationships with people, I realized that I do this quite often...that I "expect" them to be a certain way instead of living in that state of "expectancy" and how damaging that can be on my end. By living that way, I have not allowed people to grow and to change as they were created to, and I also stump my own growth by stubbornly resisting to allow them freedom to move. The result was (and is) that when I live in this state of "expectation" I do feel judged even if I am not, and I am ultimately not living in the love that God has for me to live in...the love I was meant to live. I am not saying that I never lived in love! No! I have loved as deeply as I thought my heart could love! And, at that time it was true. You can only love as much as you know because you do not know anything else! But once you become aware of a new level of understanding, it is up to you to approach it and either drink it or ignore it as you choose. That is the beauty of it all, and also the beast of it all: The "Beautiful Choice". But what I am saying is that I have wanted to grow and have "expected" people to simply accept the fact that I was growing but did not completely reciprocate that in others' lives. Everyone also knows that I have always had a very hard time accepting love that others would give to me...and give me freely. I kind of always felt that I was almost not worthy of it or I would live in that state of "expecting" the "other shoe to drop". So I figured it was simply better for me to not accept it. But I have since begun accepting this love that people show me (though at times it is difficult, and at other times because I am so used to NOT accepting it that I fall back into what I've always done, even and especially when I should not).
So, with all that said, I sigh and breathe deeply and pause. ......There.......I have laid my cards out on the table. I have opened my chest and you can see my inside. In love I lay this before you all. To let you know that I love you and that I appreciate all that you have done and are doing for and with me, and for all of the support and faith that you all are putting in me especially as I go through nursing school. I ask that you be patient as I learn to accept love as you give it. One of my dear friends reminded me the other day that, "it is not the path that we take, but it is how we take the path that we are on". So I also ask that you are patient with me as I learn to allow you to grow and walk the path that you are on just as I grow and walk on my path. And as I learn to love you with "expectancy" instead of "expectation" ::smiles::

2010-01-07T22:11:00.000-08:00

i've been listening to a new artist that I heard on NPR the other day as I drove home from work in the traffic and the cold. Sometimes I do not even try to use my heater because it just blows cold air at me and makes me shiver ::chuckles:: And then, I am finally "warm" by the time I've reached my house, so I wonder sometimes what the point is? She is an old car, though, and she really truly does her very best. Some day i may have a heater. For now, though, I am fine without one (for the most part). She still defrosts the windows when they have iced over or frosted, and she bears the burden of everything and everyone that I need her to - in the words of Velvet Brown, "She burst herself for me!". And then, reeling myself back in from the rabbit trail that I just made...the artist that I have been listening to calls herself "Lhasa de Sela" and she is called the Edith Piaf of the Latinos! Obviously, when i heard this phrase, my ears perked up and I listened more carefully. She is a contemporary artist who apparently died on Jan. 1, 2010. Her songs are sad songs...dirges, if you will - and they are all in Spanish. I can understand bits and pieces (enough to stay alive if that were on the line) but not enough to understand the entirety of it.

2009-12-20T21:29:00.001-08:00

I am finally in Nursing School!! Not just talking about it, but literally REGISTERED for classes! And, to top it all off, i have a grant! Not only do I not have to PAY for my classes, but I also do not have to pay the grant back! (of course, unless I do not keep my grades up...but that won't happen). I am so awed by it all that I kind of don't believe it...I keep checking my registration status just to make sure! I check it and look in disbelief and think I will check one day and all of a sudden I will no longer be registered and it was all a dream or I forgot to do something important and they took me out of the system again! But my classes never fail to jump out at me every time I look for their confirmation...strange things they are...

It is winter. this is the first winter I have ever felt where I feel like hibernating. Do you know how strange it is for me to feel like this? In the mornings I want to just lay in my hammock and let it swing back and forth and rock me while I sit and think about nothing in particular. I know the days are shorter now, and the sun has been shrouded by clouds and has not been able to greet me in the mornings. This, I know, has had an effect on me, though I would say I am holding up quite well despite that fact ::grins amusedly::
The morning is when there is the most quiet, usually - my windows are all frosted, and my roommates have either not gotten up yet or have gone to work already. You see, they are all nigh-owls (the dears) and so almost every evening is some strange new concoction of one writing lyrics and playing strange instruments (like the saw which wails and hums, and the organ), another 'mate playing piano or some sort of new fangled electronica music (like the new album of "Tiny Boots" that just arrived for him), and another playing the Four Tops "Same Old Song" over and over. I never have any trouble falling to sleep, though. Somehow the music doesn't bother me and I can fall to sleep anywhere at almost any time. It may be because, when I was young, I had to fall to sleep to "I'm Chris! And Welcome to ADVENTURES IN ODYSSEY!" every single night. These things, at night, simply do not phase me AT ALL any more! Thank you Christa for my training ::smiles and chuckles::
Tonight, however, this house is quiet and peaceful. All the lights are low and there is a feeling of hush'd reverence blanketing the house - covering each door. This night is not one to be messed with, and somehow we all feel it. On my drive home, I shut off all music and sang to myself in the quiet of my car. Sometimes it is a great place to stop and listen to ones self think. And, of course, it is rare that I do not have a song or a poem flying around in my head, so I must sing if it is a song and let the poem drip/spill out of my mouth as it wills. Tonight both song and poem willed and so I let them flow. This is an ode to departing friends, a blessing for family far away, and an embrace for those friends and family who are close.

Now, I must follow my eye lids' example and fall asleep just as they are now doing!! Peace for today and bright hope for tomorrow...great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me.

ULIHELISDI

2009-11-25T06:15:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving! Thinking about it, I have always enjoyed Thanksgiving more than any other holiday. (does that classify it as my favorite?). I think about it, and this is the time that I have almost always been able to be with my entire immediate family, and then the ONLY time that I've EVER seen aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. When I was younger, Mom had this awesome wall poster that had the "first" thanksgiving with Indians and pilgrims going about their business on that day, and I used to love looking at it and trying to imagine what they were thinking and try to animate them in my mind - as if I were there! I loved hearing stories of the mysterious Indians coming and taking the pilgrims under their wings and teaching them how to live in this wild country- it's truly a beautiful story in my opinion. To this day I am utterly enthralled with the ways of the natives here in America! I love all the different colors on the trees, I love sloshing my feet through the piles of leaves, and I love the scent in the air! I love all the pumpkin and cinnamon, I love the Stuffing on the Thanksgiving table! And I love being a 'WHOLE family'! This year, however, Jenna and Pouria will not be with us. This year they are pilgrims adventuring in their own new life together as the best friends and loves-of-eachother's-lives that they are. They are discovering new territories, and that is a lovely thing. So, while physically they will not be with us, they will be in our hearts. When you love someone, they are always with you, and that is a very great thing. So we will all be together in spirit, and be joyful on this day: us in Tennessee, and Jenna and Pouria in Colorado.

In Cherokee, the word for Thanksgiving (Unlidelisdi) is a form of the word "We are happy" (Alihelisdi)! I thought that that was awesome, so I am writing it down so that I always remember it...

drooling

2009-11-15T10:44:00.000-08:00

last night I spent my time with my roommates cleaning the kitchen and rearranging my plants (they are ALL over the entire house...and front porch...and out in the backyard). It was funny...I was at the house first, and they were all away. I spent some time attempting to clean my room, then John came home. I ask him if he was aware that the fridge stank with a stench to ward off an army! He said he HAD noticed and commenced in cleaning it up. I tried to help, but it wasn't really a 2-person job. Then Marshall came home and John pulled him into the mix, and I joined them and the kitchen became a whirlwind of bad foods and the smells that accompany them, cleaning products, and hot water! We were able to come up with a system so that we could keep all of our foods separated, and Marshall and I exchanged teas and stories of teas. Then, i went into the bathroom because I'd remembered that the trash can was small and I wanted to clean the bathroom...but John swooped in and began cleaning. So I went back into my room and tried to arrange my stuff...it's all in one big pile now.

I am at Borders now. I work IPT (inventory processing team) and I dislike it very much. It doesn't help that there is a floor-to-ceiling window that runs the entire length of the upstairs (where i work) and it overlooks Centennial park. Well, I suppose it does help that I have a lovely view filled with coloring trees and fallen leaves and grasses. But it still taunts me.
I keep moving really fast as if the faster I move the faster time will go by! But the clock keeps moving at its own pace...sad day that I cannot command Father Time! I keep forgetting that i cannot hurry time while I am at work...

"Bugs"

2009-10-24T05:36:00.000-07:00

So, these are two experiments that we have been doing in class. They each only took two days to complete (compared to our 3 week sessions now). The first one is for washed and unwashed hands. So, I drew a line down the center of the petri dish, which is filled with a coating of tryptic soy agar. And I took a sterile swab and swabbed one side and labeled it "unwashed". Then, I washed my hands and the airdried them (we were allowed to choose any way to dry our hands that we wished. The object was not to see who got the cleanest petri dish, but to see the differences in the washing and drying methods). So, as I said, i airdried my hands. Walked all around the room, flapping my wet hands in the air and humming a tune from Chariots of Fire. As I walked, I looked around the room at my absorbed classmates. Everyone carefully and completely immersed in their own experiment. Each carefully reading through the guidelines ::the instructions say to wash for 2 minutes:: By golly, they were gonna wash for 2 minutes! ::the instructions say to be creative with the drying method:: I walked around looking at those who were washing their hands and I believe that that was the most focused I have ever seen anyone while washing their hands. Then they would pause...think....think...react....stop!...think...decide how to dry their hands. By this time, of course, their hands were already partially airdried and thus contaminated. Some re-washed their hands to decontaminate, and some just went on about their business. As I passed the tables of people who were working on other projects, we exchanged greetings and "best of luck"s. My hands finally dried and I swabbed them and swabbed the other side of the petri dish. It sat in an incubator for roughly 48 hours at 37 degrees Celsius. Finished product:

As you can see, even my "washed" side of the plate has some pretty intense air-born microbes! You can kind of read where I labeled "washed" in the second photograph. So, guys, the object of this experiment was to see just how "clean" your hands get when you are "air-drying" them. Obviously, you can see that when you wave your wet hands around in the air, they do not get really "clean".
My second experiment was to see who was "Typhoid Mary". If you have ever heard the story (I'm sure I've already told it to you...but if not, you can look it up = google is a simply WONDERFUL invention!), then you know who Typhoid Mary is. So we were all given these gloves to put on (one each) and they were all numbered. I picked up #3 and slipped it onto my hand. It was easy because the gloves were all Extra Large. Then we walked around the room and shook 5 or 6 other people's hands and wrote down who and in what order and then recorded their numbers in our journals. You see, one of the gloves was contaminated with the typhoid bug....and we were to determine WHO was the perpetrator! We could deduce who it was by comparing our petri dishes to all the others:
As you can clearly see, I was infected with the Typhoid! My side of the petri dish, compared to all others, was basically this same result. So it was quite clear to everyone that I had indeed infected everyone else with my Typhoid via ripple-effect. I shook 5 different hands, they, in turn, shook 5 hands, and those people shook 5 other hands. So all in all, I was able to infect almost the entire classroom. There was an exception of 3 people who were uninfected, and this was pure Providence intervening.

On the Grasshopper and Cricket

The poetry of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;
That is the Grasshopper's--he takes the lead
In summer luxury,--he has never done
With his delights; for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
On a lone winter evening, when the frost
Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills
The Cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever,
And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
The Grasshopper's among some grassy hills.

John Keats

Local Tennements

2009-10-04T12:28:00.001-07:00

Yesterday at Centennial Park there was what was posted as a "Cultural Festival" and I got excited to go...and went! I was accompanied by Kalid who has traveled around the world and who's parents are of Colombian origin. As we walked up the pathway, there were booths lining our way filled with jewelry and other arts and crafts that were labeled to be from that particular country. We stopped at the tent labeled "Egypt" and looked at the papyrus scrolls that all looked the same. I hate to say that we were less than impressed. Well, to put it bluntly, we were downright disappointed! We exchanged perturbed glances but said nothing, and continued on - hoping that the center of this circle would hold a true experience. We entered the "Celebration of Cultures" area where they had different tents with people dressed in ethnic clothing and music of that region. It was an experience, to be sure! Lively people scurrying from tent to tent, and a stage in the center with people dancing the dances of their cultures! But too bad the Japan-tent had blond-haired blue-eyed chicks in red yukattas handing out fans made in china, and the Jamaican tent boasted nothing beyond a good beat from some really nice speakers and a Jamaican woman moving to the music at the door of the tent. Various groups were taking turns on the outskirts of the operation performing their traditional "song and dance" and we walked straight past that, too. We'd reached the end...."Is that everything?" Kalid asked in bewilderment. "I think it was. I think we saw everything..." I replied as we looked back at the colored canvas of the tents blowing in the wind.
We walked over to the steps of the Parthenon and popped down on them to chat about what we had just experienced. The view from this vantage point was spectacular - all of the tents and people happily drifting from tent to tent was an inviting view! It made me think that perhaps I was too judgemental about the whole affair. But then I remembered why I felt repulsed while in the middle of it all. I do not like "window-shopping" through cultures. I do not believe in it and it grates on me like an annoying poke that keeps on poking and never stops. I want to feel and taste and smell and experience "culture" - immerse myself in it! Perhaps it would have been more appealing if they had each country in its own area instead of having a "food area" with many different food stuffs, and then another one for "jewelry" and then another one for performance arts and other crafts. If they had an area for Iran and had the food, clothing, art, and music in that area, and then another one for Mexico, and another one for Jamaica, and Japan. Where you could go in and hear the language, eat the food, and have THAT experience in THAT area. We both felt the same way. Obviously we were both looking for something more substantial - something to "give us pause". Contented in our debrief of our recent festival experience, we turned our attention to the open road once again...

We as Humans...

2009-09-24T11:35:00.000-07:00

WELCOME TO WEST COLORADO! Jenna and I went to hike at Horsetooth Reservoir, and as you can see it was SO much more than that! According to Native American legend, Horsetooth Rock in Fort Collins, CO, is not a rock at all, but the heart-turned-to-stone of a great warrior (Red Feather) slain by a slightly greater warrior (Black Feather) during a fierce battle.(pictured here on the left) On our perilous pilgrimage to
Horsetooth Falls, we battled poisonous snakes and saw all sorts of odd specimens of human life. Watch the video to see what happened!

In Nederland, CO at some Rock Store...it was crazy incredible! We were in shorts and t-shirts, and Jenna and Pouria have just informed me that it is now nesteled beneath 16" of snow. We spent the day with Pouria's friend Mira and her boyfriend. She was incredibly sweet and such a lovely person!The water was FREEEEEEZING!! But we survived with smiles Pouria 's idea of "bouldering" ::chuckles:: apparently we have two different definitions of this adverb...Mira's boyfriend and I raced up a boulder...and that was great fun!I regret that we did not summit...That evening we went to a play called THE BLIND...excellent story, and apparently very dear to Pouria's heart.This is Mira and her boyfriend in line for The Blind. During the actual performance, the little wood spirits kept coming up to me and blowing on my face. I think they were conspiring from the time they sat us in our seats...they had it out for me from the beginning! We did have a few stare-down competitions during the actual performance, but no one really "won". I just held my breath and slowly turned my head to face them as they blew in my face... And they lived happily ever after...THE end!

I'm back in Tennessee now. I have to say that I was very inspired there...something in the air was amazing and drawing. I wrote poetry, began short-stories, wrote many things in my journal and had such a peaceful time with my dear family there.

Peace...

Blue Birds smiling

2009-09-18T07:20:00.001-07:00

Every Morning when I wake up it is chilly and my nose is cold! It is so delightful and I wake up smiling...then I tuck my head under the covers or under my pillow and listen to the air and the morning noises. Jenna and Pouria live on a small street...it is so tiny that its length is about as long as Magnolia Blvd (in Nashville). But it is small and quiet (for the most part). They live between Boulder High School and University of Colorado and are roughly 10 min. walking distance from both. Last night the highschool had some kind of big game with a very loud and boisterous announcer, but I do not know if it was football or baseball. So the game went on for hours (as games do) and there was so much cheering and booing and loud crazy crowd noises! And the partying went on late late into the night. It did not keep me awake, fortunately ::smiles::
The inside of Jenna and Pouria's house is designed such that it feels like a log cabin on the inside. Lots of little nooks and crannies and everything - doors, staircase, ladder up to the loft - it is all small and narrow and wonderfully adorable! Today Jenna and I are headed to Ft. Collins to see what we can see! My camera ran out of batteries (it doesn't keep for long) and I forgot my charger and my computer connector, so I am sorry that there are no pictures for today. But there will be tomorrow :smiles::

Cowboys??

2009-09-15T14:34:00.000-07:00

This video is called Awesome Indian Music Video...I think it is pretty awesome, and when I played it at JJ's, I would look around to see almost everyone a little weirded out. I was used to that, though, because that's what happened when I put my music on. Everyone knew it was me because I listened to a different kind of music - basically all over the board: Celtic, Jazz, Metal, Pop, Rock, Indi, Opera, Showtunes, blah, blah blah and more BLAH! So I dedicate this video to that entire experience.

Song Composed in August

2009-09-15T14:17:00.000-07:00

(Robert Burns)

Now westlin’ winds, and slaught’ring guns
Bring Autumn’s pleasant weather;
And the Moorcock springs, on whirring wings,
Amang the blooming heather:
Now waving grain, wide o’er the plain,
Delights the weary farmer;
And the moon shines bright, when I rove at night,
To muse upon my charmer.

The partridge loves the fruitful fells;
The plover loves the mountains;
The woodcock haunts the lonely dells;
The soaring hern the fountains:
Thro’ lofty groves, the cushat roves,
The path of man to shun it;
The hazel bush o’erhangs the thrush,
The spreading thorn the linnet.

Thus ev’ry kind their pleasure find,
The savage and the tender;
Some social join, and leagues combine;
Some solitary wander;
Avaunt, away! The cruel sway,
Tyrannic man’s dominion;
The sportsman’s joy, the murd’ring cry,
The flutt’ring, gory pinion!

But Peggy dear, the ev’ning’s clear,
Thick flies the skimming swallow;
The sky blue, the fields in view,
All fading-green and yellow:
Come let us stray our gladsome way,
And view the charms of nature;
The rustling corn, the fruited thorn,
And ev’ry happy creature.

We’ll gently walk, and sweetly talk,
Till the silent moon shine clearly;
I’ll grasp thy waist, and fondly prest,
Swear how I love thee dearly:
Not vernal show’rs to budding flow’rs,
Not autumn to the farmer,
So dear can be, as thou to me,
My fair, my lovely charmer.

Her shirt says, "Keep Adjusting Weird"

2009-09-06T13:07:00.000-07:00

I cannot help but wonder what this shirt means to her? As far as our culture, here in America, goes, her looks are nothing particularly "weird" even to Vandy Frat. standards. She's wearing neon-chartreuse hued taffeta-like workout shorts, the shirt is grey with red lettering, and her long brunette locks are sloppily tied back in a black hair band. She sways from side to side as she saunters out the door in her "old" flipflops and her painted dark pink toenails presented as she points her feet outward.
Here is Rusty. He is around 5' 5" with gray hair and a perpetual frowny face with thick gray eyebrows and a thick gray mustache. He always wears either a red or white t-shirt. He used to go straight to the beer cooler and get 2 6-pack of Amstel Light and 4 Grolsch singles. As we rang him up he'd say in his gruff unpleasant sounding voice, "I need a buey-suee too" which meant he needed a B.C. powder packet. He suddenly stopped buying beer one day and we asked him about it, 'I changed my reeligion" he told us. And....that was that. He's a bit odd..even for JJ's. He has a pepper farm and he lives in the middle of Downtown Nashville - around 2 blocks from JJ's.
What I want to know is - if one is "weird" by choice, and not because they are just who they are, is that then "weird"? What does this shirt mean? What is "adjusting weird" and why does it need to be adjusted? Are people like Rusty, who do not know that they are "weird" the ones whom she is speaking to or about? Or is she speaking to the fraternity and serority people around her? I want to design a shirt that says, 'Weird can stand on its own feet" and give that to her ::smiles::

Binyeke

2009-08-22T07:33:00.000-07:00

I awoke this morning to the sound of (what I thought was) a bunch of dogs howling in pain in the distance. It erupted every few seconds and lasted for a few seconds and then subsided again. I was awakened at around 5:45am to this very noise. At first I tried to ignore it because my sleepy state was causing the hulabaloo to become part of my dream and I then forgot that it was actually happening. I remember it was 6:30am when I finally began paying attention to what it was, exactly, because it is unusual for a pack of dogs in THAT much agony to not be quieted by their master...I mean, we are in the city, and not the great outdoors or the backwoods. The breeze was chilly and my blood was not pumping yet, so I found my blanket and drew it over me, I closed my eyes, and I concentrated on that particular noise...I honed in and it became the only noise I was a aware I could hear. I finally realized that I was hearing clapping...and that the noise I thought was yowling, was really the sounds of distant encouragement from a group of people and that they were yelling, "Whoo hoo!! C'mon YEAH! WOOO!!!". I got up out of bed and stuck my head out the window to see if I could detect from which direction the sound was coming, but it was so high-pitched and distant that it echoed and bounced off of the brick walls, and made it impossible to track the direction of origin. By this time, I was ready for it to stop, so I turned on NPR....they were talking about something...something that I did not care to hear that early in the morning. So I turned it off. But the silence of my house was again disrupted by the whooping of those distant cheer-leaders...so I turned NPR back on. I suppose I did not think to turn on some of my own music. What I really wanted was peace and quiet, but that was unfortunately not on the agenda. Today is "MOVE-IN" day for both VANDY and BELMONT students...and I suppose they began to move in at 6am.
So I ate breakfast (quickly), packed my computer and headed to JJ's...my "quiet" place. It will not be quiet, soon, either. All of the Vandy kids are moving back and friday and saturday nights are already filled with the din of drunk little college kids. Last night, as I worked at the Village Market, I caught a fake i.D. or 2 (usual occurrence during the school year). The boys come in and act like they know everything there is to know about beer, trying to impress their lady-friends (and sometimes, I regret to say I would not call them "lady"). And I stand there and shake my head as they say things that are ridiculous. And the girls usually act like they have helium for brains and try to dance to my music, and get the guy's attention. The guys then look at me, faces red with embarrassment, and give me their credit cards as quickly as possible so they can get the heck out o' Dodge. Then you've got the workers from "Cabana" and "Boscos" who come over, dragging and tired of it all, looking for RED BULL and oreo cookies and cigarettes, the Dominos Pizza guys who come over for Vitamin Water, and the Vanderbilt Nurses and Doctors who come in for a beer or 2 before heading home after a long day. It really is an adventure working at the Village Market...and at the end of the night, after hearing and ignoring all of the "hey beautiful"'s, "I like your bandanna"s, "how do you get your hair to do that?!", I lock the door, close the store, Jae (my boss) comes in and wishes me a good night
, and I walk home and breathe it all out of my system. It is usually around 11:20pm when I finally reach home, read some while taking a bite to eat, and then sack out in my bed.
A guy just sat down close to me here at JJ's and he smells like the Cronicles of Narnia books that I have. He smells like the actual books...and sitting here I am having visions of the dreaded magnificent queen of darkness pulling the children down into one of the pools in "The Land Between the Worlds". Teddy (Theodor Butler) from the tatoo parlor "Lone Wolf" just came over to order his usual "large Iced Coffee...no room for cream", his loud tenor voice resonating off of the brick wall to my left, and also bouncing off of the tin boxes of tea that are on the shelf above him. He's a small little man, about my height, and small in every other particular, except his voice - which BOOMS, and his personality that makes him seem much bigger than he really is. When I am behind the counter and he laughs, the counter trembles with his laugh. He is a giant in a little-man's body. One usually does not think that a tatoo artist would want to raise chickens, or become a blacksmith with wood-burning ovens, and you wouldn't think that your hair-dresser would look like a lumber-jack and have a 300 acre farm where he raises organic and pure veggies, flowers, and dairy cows. And you wouldn't think that your local wine merchant, who is thin beyond compare and shyer than shy, has a secret desire to be a funeral-home director, and that the other one thinks he is John Lennon incarnated. And you wouldn't think that a bouncer from a pub would actually have one of the most genuine hearts and kind, soft-spoken, very masculine, spirits that you've almost ever met. Tatoo artists have a reputation for being rough and tumble and untouchable, hair dressers are usually flamboyant, bouncers have a reputation for being all brawn and no brain, and wine merchants are rather aloof. All of these people frequent JJ's and The Village Market here in good ol' Nashville Tennessee. This is only a taste of the variety of people around me. I cannot say how much I love and appreciate this beautiful opportunity that I have! How often is it that one gets to meet such interesting people and learn their dreams and what they are all about. They suddenly become more than a lump of skin walking around...they grow soul and spirit and beauty. Sometimes I am repulsed by learning what these people are about, but I am thankful even for those experiences. The tatoo artist who raises chickens keeps me updated with pictures (on his cell phone) of his chickens and their eggs, and I've looked at knife-making and blacksmithing books with another tatoo artist. I am working on one of the tatoo artists who seems to like to mock everyone and his favorite shirt is black and says, 'There IS no GOD" on the back. He seems to live up to the whole "tatoo-artist" persona - "meat & potatoes" type guy. I will be sad when I need to leave this place of many people. But I will meet new people and have more experiences and that is what is so amazing to me in life.

How to capture moments...Don't ask me!

2009-08-17T12:08:00.000-07:00

So Sara threw a lovely GOING-AWAY party for Jenna and Pouria. The lovely Pouria has already posted about this event, and I admit I am very LATE with my contribution...but I thought "better late than nEvEr" ::smiles:: So sorry the first video is sideways...I am still learning about my camera ::sheepish smile::

so I love my family...I love the outlandish personalities and the other easily flushed ones, and the stand-offish ones, and the simply quiet ones. Everyone together makes my life interesting and beautiful. Of course, not always, but in retrospect the good outweighs all else. Now that Sara and Austin live in Tuscaloosa, AL, and Jenna and Pouria live in Boulder, CO, I am SO excited to see where Christa and I will live soon!! Mom and Dad will definitely have PLENTY of travel-time under their belts visiting us all in our various places. And I cannot wait till we are all together again around the same big table sharing stories and laughs of our life-adventures!!

Peace be da Journey!

2009-08-05T13:45:00.000-07:00

All of these photos were taken via cell-phone...what a wonderful gadget at times!! First photo is Jenna and Pouria, he truck is all packed, and they are "mounting up" for the long ride.

This is just outside our little apartment complex. They used to live 2 doors down from me, and now they are about a 3 hour flight ::chuckles:: what a trip....literally! So, then they left...we watched as they drove away down 16th Ave. in Nashville. As they drove, Mom poured a pitcher of water down the road after them. It is an old Persian tradition for moms to do to their children who are moving away. Mom left to go to work (though in tears...) and Dad climbed into his truck to leave and realized that he'd left his wallet in the moving truck! OH NO!! He calls Jenna....she doesn't pickup....I call Jenna...no answer! I call Pouria...again, no answer!! AH!!! what are we going to do!?!? So I call Jenna once more, as Dad is frantically looking, even in the bed of his truck, to find his wallet. So I finally get in contact with Jenna, "I think Dad may have left his wallet in the truck...maybe on the dashboard?" "AND here it is!" she replies and I hear her reaching forward for it. Fortunately they were able to stop just off of Trinity Lane and dad and I raced over there to retrieve his wallet so that they could be on their merry way. We arrive at the gas station that they are waiting at and Pouria hops out of the truck and says, 'ok, so I know we said come and see us soon, but we thought you guys would wait until we at least unpacked!'. He's such a 'ham' at times ::winks:: So we give them the BIG SEND-OFF again. It is a Maurice family tradition to give everyone THE BIG SEND-OFF.
They spent the night in Kansas somewhere (I forgot the place) and arrived in Boulder the next day!

And had a neighbor there to welcome them...
It is a little squirrel just outside their back porch! Do you see his adorable little arm lazily hanging out of the nest? Jenna said that while they were unpacking, the little squirrel went and got a new little tree branch and brought it into his little house...so he was "moving in" just like them ::smiles:: it sounded so cute! And now they are unpacked...
Pouria's JEEP is in the right-hand corner. I am assuming that they will go and get Jenna's car today from it's spot, and they will unpack boxes. This will be their home for the next 3 years at least. I am so excited for them and I cannot WAIT to go visit them!! I can assure you, it will be epic!
(is this the part where I get all old-school dorky and pipe up the old song..."AND WE'LL BE FRIENDS FOREVER!! JESUS AND YOU AND ME!! HE TIES OUR HEARTS TOGETHER, AND FRIENDS - WE'LL - ALWAYS - BEEEEEEE!!!!!" Thankfully this time I do not have Jeffy Hutchins trying to kiss me every other word...::chuckles::

A TOAST TO JENNA AND POURIA!! May your semester go smoothly and may Jenna be protected as she travels!! PEACE BE DA JOURNEY!

And when the moments come

2009-07-24T20:34:00.000-07:00

We were sitting, well, to put it correctly, THEY were sitting (or rather laying) in the hammock while I pushed them back and forth. Our feet were bare, though it did not matter to them. I could feel the brazen husks of the hickory nuts beneath my feet with each cautious step I took, and the mosquitoes were having a hay-day on my flesh, biting at every opportunity. I took time to roll down the sleeves of my white button-up shirt, and rolled down the legs of my pants. The 'squitoes still bit my ears, forehead, feet, and fingers as I swatted at them. They were carelessly chatting about nothing in particular and I was lazily swinging them when all of a sudden I heard a THUD. Out of the corner of my eye to my left I saw motion of something falling and I thought perhaps it was a large stick from atop the very large trees. But I saw something squirm in the grass...stagger up and fall back down in silent agony. I realized that it was a squirrel and I rushed over in less than seconds, and scooped its head in my hands to keep its head up for it to breathe. Sara and Anne gathered around me and then they scurried away while barking things at each other...I don't know what they were saying. I examined the little creature's backbone and determined that its back was not broken, its legs were well in tact, and then I noticed it was peeing uncontrollably and its little eyes showed utter agony and pain as the poor thing struggled to get air. I knew as soon as I'd heard its spluttered and labored breath that it had fatally punctured a lung and that all I could do was to pet it and whisper to it until its last breath was spent. I am not going to lie and say that it did not cut my heart to the quick: to helplessly sit there and watch its painful breath depart from it slowly as it choked on its own with each inhalation and to see confusion and reluctance to give into the welcoming hand of death...he fought against it...he did not go down without a fight.
I held him, lifeless as he was curled up in my hands, as Anne dug a grave with the garden shovel, and we laid him to rest. Finally to see him out of his misery was one of the greatest reliefs I have felt in a long time. I know I do not mind death in and of itself. Death is a natural part of life, and this I have come to terms with and am fine with. But to sit by and watch as any creature takes its last moments in utter misery are just about more than I can bear...I shed a tear, I must confess. But as soon as he took his last breath, and I felt his heartbeat cease, and his eyes finally give in, I felt my own breath return to me and I realized that I had held my breath as he lost his. We have buried him and he will feed the earth now and help to make the garden rich and full of the nutrients that he is no longer utilizing. Though the "thud" sound he made as he hit the dirt when he fell keeps playing through my head like a broken record, I am glad he is no longer suffering. My life goes on, and the adventures, good and bad, continue on...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAM!

2009-06-23T06:44:00.000-07:00

Today, I am happy to say, is my beloved boss, Serim "Sam" Huh's Birthday! I do not know how old he is, because he will not disclose this long-held tight secret. I need to get a picture of him somehow. He is happy and joyful and one of the dearest best men one will EVER meet in their lives. He has inner strength that one cannot help but feel as soon as they are in his presence, and it is comforting if you are on his good side, but terrifying if you have hit one of his nerves. He has an extremely low tolerance for petty arguments and wishy-washy attitudes, and this is apparent in how he treats everyone and everything around him. He has been a pillar in many people's lives, and he knows the names and faces of almost every single person that enters this building humbly called JJ's Market (a.k.a. 'JJ' by Sam). Everyone knows and loves this man because his ministry is to love and to serve. One day I hope to be able to give back to him even just a fraction of what he has given to me.

With joy and reverence, I salute my dear friend and boss, Sam - My beloved Captain.

I wish your eyes could hear the music

2009-06-17T22:24:00.000-07:00

I am sitting here
I am waiting.

Oh....Oh, what do I wait for?
Do you really want to know?

Well, my friend, I am waiting for you...
Since you care to know -
I wait for your heart to touch mine.
I wait for your eyes to understand...to perceive.
I wait for our arms to clasp one another,
so tightly so that our breath becomes one or else we cannot breath at all!
And to enjoy our long embrace - it is just ours.

Away with you, ragged mortal judgment!
Be gone cowardly vindictive Hostility!
Away from my friend, here, who reads these lines,
and hears this voice.

My friend, you are more to me than words imply.

V - is for VICTORY

2009-05-28T08:31:00.000-07:00

I do not really have a morning routine, but this morning I went through the motions of what should be my routine. Woke up at 6...stayed in bed, squeezing my eyes shut trying to glean another hour of sleep before getting up...then realizing that intensely squeezing my eyes shut would not relax me into some deaf peaceful slumber, so I awkwardly rolled out of bed, trying to act like a zombie - hoping that once I was upright, my body would remember that it is tired and then I would be able to go back to sleep. ::sigh:: once I was up, my body was wide awake, so I shot-putted any ideas I'd harbored towards getting more sleep. My dreams were not really good anyway, I reasoned to myself, so why would I want to return to them? I love the early morning, please do not get me wrong. It is my favorite part of the day and I usually relish those times when I am so fortunate as to wake before the sun. But I must confess that it is so much more pleasant when you can look outside your window, or step out your door and see that everything is nestled in a blanket of myst and fog, and hear the twitterings of birds who seem to know that most people are still asleep and so they are using their inside voices.
After standing up off my bed, I did the things which should be normal for me - stretching, lifting a few weights (my boss, Sam,. asked me where all my muscle had gone after pinching my sadly deteriorated triceps...my physical strength is something I have held so much pride in my whole life, and now even my reserves are depleted). Then I went into the kitchen and made a short smoothie and some oatmeal, which I ate in the kitchen while listening to one of Chopin 's Nocturnes on NPR. I sat there, thinking about my life and revisiting recent events because I have to chew on the cud of everything that I experience. With every bite of oatmeal, my thoughts turned to a new subject or event, and I would chew my oatmeal in symbolic interaction with my thoughts. I thought about the books that I have to buy for school, then took another bite and thought about my trip to Knoxville. How Christa and I spent most of the time, while there, just us two. At one point, we were sitting on a porch swing just outside the apartment that we were staying in, and she look at me and said, 'Just think, Deanna, if I weren't here right now, you'd be alone'. I thought about my life recently, and I replied, 'Well, Christa, I do everything alone. I am by myself all of the time. I go to work by myself, eat by myself, live by myself. It does not phase me...anymore. But I am glad of your company' and I smiled because it was pleasant just sitting there with her. After pondering these things, I shrugged, I guess to myself, and was finished eating. I washed my dishes and finished reading my current book Flesh and Bone written and about a forensic anthropologist who works at the Body Farm and teaches at The University of Tennessee in Knoxville. I sat Indian-Style on my "couch" with my computer on my lap while I check emails and do silly other things, such as update my blog. I should be cleaning my apt. but I will do that in a little while. I used my new vacuum yesterday and it works like a champ! It has such sucking-power that it almost ate my heavy-duty rug that covers my living-room floor. Have no fear, for I saved the rug just in time by turning the vacuum and coming at it from a different direction that did not go against the grain. As I checked my facebook, I saw that i had an email, so I clicked on it and saw that it was from one of my old friends and co-workers from New Frontiers - Sarah Wilson. Seeing her name brought back such amazing memories, and I sat there for a moment in pure joy just thinking about it all. [New Frontiers' Staffers: Cindy, Rache, & Brittany]
One particular memory strikes me every time I see her face. I had been working at NF for a few weeks, and word had it that Sarah Wilson was returning after being in Africa (or somewhere like that) for a few months. Everyone who had met her was extremely excited and it was contageous so I caught the Excititis. There was always such joy and acceptance while I worked there, that we got excited about the smallest things, such as Larry finally getting enough money to purchase new ropes for our climbing wall! We all marveled at the bounce of the new ropes and spent an hour just checking out all attributes of these shiny new ropes! Christmas day! So Sarah came and we had a cook-out. It was still light outside and we were all playing some kind of football in the front lawn, and I noticed that she was inside doing the dishes with Candy. She had just met me that day, and I was feeling quite mischievous, so I ducked out of sight of her window, and crouched as I made my way up to the window of the trailer's kitchen where she was washing dishes. I looked out onto the lawn and caught the eyes of a few of my co-workers - Patrick, Alex, Racheal, and Larry - and I put a finger up to my lips to signal silence from them. They all lowered their voices, but kept tossing the football around. We were all snickering because they knew what I was about to do, and, as i said, we were all so happy most of the time that we would laugh at just about anything regardless. I puckered my lips and whistled a cat-call whistle up to the window. I heard Sarah stop what she was doing and I figured she was trying to see who it was and what was going on. I whistled again, this time louder than before. She asked who was there, while trying not to laugh through her teeth. "Alex? Is that you?" and then she saw Alex out on the lawn. I whistled again. "Who's there?!?" she asked while laughing. Then I saw everyone's eyes widen and SPLASH! I was wet! Sarah had poured a bowl of warm soapy water on me from the window! I ran out of my alcove and shook like a dog, laughing as I ran. "DEE! IT WAS YOU!" she said and we all laughed.
I remembered another time when we had a group of highschool church campers that I was assigned to work with. This group was particularly difficult because they did not want to get dirty and then during debriefing our activities, they acted like they already knew everything. These groups are mostly challenging because we have to come up with new strategies on how to work with them, and how to present something that is deeper than the mundane bible stories that have been drilled into their heads since birth. It always saddened us to see such young people already numbed and bored of something so precious. So we devised ways to keep them on their toes and to jolt them about a bit, but all in fun. So we had just returned from caving - EVERYONE gets messy in the cave, especially just after a heavy rain when the mineral water drips 5 times more than usual. The girls had all complained through the entire 4 hours of caving, and once we were out all they could talk about was having showers (obviously they did not understand the value of mineral cave mud on the skin). So I told them that cave mud was great for the skin, with so many minerals and nutrients that the skin needs. They looked at me like I was crazy, so I decided that they were not getting showers that night ::smiles:: I spoke to one of my co-workers and he agreed with me, so I then gathered all the boys of the group together. "Would you all mind if you just took showers from a bucket tonight?" I asked. Then I explained my plan - I was going to turn off all the water to the bathrooms, but I would have four 5gal buckets of hot water in the boys' bathroom so they could wash up. Then I wanted them to go in and act like they were showering and talk loudly about how they were so glad to get all that mud off of them...really do it up BIG TIME! They all got extremely excited and began trying not to laugh. So I sent 4 of them to fill up their buckets and the rest of them got ready to take 'showers', while I turned off the water source to the restrooms. I then went and sat by the fire just outside and waited to see what happened. The girls began screaming when their water did not turn on, and they marched themselves outside. When they heard the boys having a great time, the girls began making plans to shang-high the boys bathroom because they had water, apparently! One by one the guys came out wet and clean and happy, while the dirty girls looked on in disbelief! I stood there stoking the fire and getting it ready for Hobo dinners that they would be eating later, and trying not to laugh. One of the girls spotted me, and strode hurridly over to me in a panic and informed me of the serious situation and could I see if I could get the water running? I looked at my co-worker, and gave him the fire-poker, and then mosied off to find the water valve. After looking at it in the dark with the dimmest flashlight I could find, I announced that we would have to check it out in the morning when there is more light, and then I looked at my watch and said, 'Well, your shower time is up so you'll just have to eat in muddy clothes tonight'. I shrugged and then motioned to them to follow me to Victory Hall where we were going to make dinner. I knew that this was the key to the door of breaking down their walls, because they were taken out of their comfort zone. For them, not being able to take showers was WAY out of their comfort zone. Usually when we make Hobo Dinners, we walk around and squirt sanitizer into their hands as they finish handling the raw meat, but this time we let them, two at a time, go to the hose on the side of the building and wash their hands and faces. For the rest of their trip, we told them that they were not allowed to complain. If they did, there would be consequences that one of our staff would administer, and it would be different every time. The consequences, after a few tries of complaining, were things like - we would take them on a run through the mountains and then do jumping jacks or something like that until they were worn out. They were there for one week, and they learned so much. The entire trip they ate like famished wolves, and ate everything set before them (we fed them as much as they could eat and 3 times a day), did everything without complaining, learned to focus on others instead of themselves, slept outside, and relished each time they took showers. No longer did they roll their eyes when we sat down to debrief, but they participated and with interest.
Me and the other staffers were constantly playing pranks on each other, and constantly smiling and laughing. I was known for my pranks, and known for taking them in return with both boots on. One time a camper came up to me and asked, 'So, don't you guys ever get tired of being happy?' I thought about it, and realized I had never really thought about that before. 'No' I said finally, 'Because true inner joy just shines. It is not a conscious decision to show joy, and it takes no voluntary effort. It gives both strength and rest, and does not tire.' He looked at me like I was insane...I used to get that a lot working there. Really, I still do get that, but I am so much calmer now. I do not think it is bad that I am calmer now...it is just different. But today, when I looked at photos on the New Frontiers' facebook page, tears welled up into my eyes as I looked at pictures of that old place and the people I miss and love so much. Beautiful memories that will stay with me forever, and I am so thankful that I have those memories to cherish. I hope that, in the future, I will have many more memories like that to cherish...

2009-05-18T09:55:00.000-07:00

It is the second night of our stay in London (it was then, as I am home now. But pretend, for my sake, that you are me and I am the voice inside my/your head).
::eyes look up and see Holiday Inn Express scrolled out on a sign in yellow lettering. The last leg of this day's journey. I have Palak Peneer (sp?) in my hand with an order of Naan and some rice, and I can smell its sweet aroma slightly through the overpowering pungent odor of automobile exaust. I can feel mom close to me as we approach the automatic sliding doors of the hotel. We are in London, and the day is sunny and warm, but we are incredibly tired after rushing around trying to gobble up every sight our eyes could see! Our minds are weary after trying to figure out how this Underground system works. Fortunately we did not lose our way, but we had skipped two of my daily meals. C'est la vie, no? We woof down our food, and then realize that our bellies are too full. I blank out for a few moments, then jolt awake as I remember that I need to let everyone know that we made it safely! So I shake myself awake and discuss getting some internet time from somewhere so that I can update my blog. We decide that we are too tired to go to an internet cafe, so we buy some time here at the hotel. I trot on down and pay for the time, they give me a user-name and password and I trot back up to our room. I try to find the login....cannot find it. I search and search, but I come up dry every time. I inform mom that it is not working, and I call the information desk::
::Ring ring..then answer:: 'Hello, may I help you?' ::it is a deep voice, annunciating every syllable perfectly::
'Oh yes, Well, I was just down there and paid for some internet time. I have tried putting in the user-name and password, and it will not take it.'
'What won't take what where?' he replies, confusedly.
'Oh, well, my computer is not connecting to the internet because the user-name and password are not working.'
::I can feel his mind trying to make sense of what I am saying, and I hear his uneven breathing, so i save him the trouble of replying::
'Could I bring the computer down and you can tell me what I am doing wrong?'
'Yes, ma'am. I believe that would work best.'
::so I slide on down to the front desk and he walks me through the internet...mind you, he is calmly helping me connect to the internet while two girls (who are part of a pack of other scantily clad females, freely lounging on the sofas) are yelling at him to order them taxis, and he is on the phone with the taxi company, and his co-workers are asking him questions that they are confused about. I have heard of multi-tasking before, but this was insane! I look around and I see that many of the hotel guests are sitting in the dining room enjoying the spectacle. But he was so calm and yet firm through it all, and got everything done quite quickly and exact! I asked him twice if he wanted me to come back another time, and he calmly looked at me and said, 'no no, you are fine'. I did not know that there were people in this world who could truly do what I saw him do. And it seemed as though he does it all the time. He is a very good man for that job, and I wish I could applaud him. So here is my tribute to his remaining sane in an insane world! His actions encouraged me that I can do that someday::

We bought 4 hours of internet time, but our computer only had 3. So I checked my email, hurriedly, and made a blog post, uploaded all of the photos we had taken (from both cameras) up to that point, and then handed the internet and computer over to mom. That night we slept like bumps on logs, and the next day was sunny and warm.

We are home...

2009-05-17T11:26:00.000-07:00

We are now back in Nashville, Tennessee...tired and bedraggled, but home just as well. We saw so much that we are still still trying to process everything. I think it will take a while, partially because mom and I are, well, I have really bad allergies and can barely breathe, and mom has a headache. Other than that we are able to laugh and remember good times and the time that we spent getting closer. It meant a lot to me, and the pictures of our trip are still flashing through my mind ::smiles:: This is the Thames River. So much history here...the Romans used this river and they thought it was great fun because the river bulges twice a day, so they would get a free ride down the river, and then another free ride on their return trip later that day! This is a shot from Blackfriar's bridge and that walk to the right of the photo is Jubilee Walkway.
We went to the Tower Of London (which is actually a series of towers in a sort of city-esque fortress with cobbled roads, grasses, gates and arches (one of which was called Bloody Gate), dungeons, and, of course, The Beefeaters (which are really called Yeowmen. They both live at and guard the Tower).

so now we are home again. I will write more later...but I have to get ready for work...

LONDON, ENGLAND

2009-05-09T13:05:00.000-07:00

Mom and I are now in London, England! Our plane arrived at Heathrow Airport, England one hour early, but we were still in odd states of mind and I felt a little sick (not having really eaten since dinner the day before). We picked up our spirits off the floor, however, and made it to our train - Heathrow district line - heading towards W. Kensington station. I am sure we both looked like stray kittens who've just been taken into a strange house and then dunked into a bathtub - confused and tired. It was only NOON!! So we popped our things into the hotel room and scurried down again to the street where we found ourselves engulfed by noisy busses and small aggressive autos, and shuffling people who walked anywhere they wanted to and dared the cars to hit them. Mom and I, after closely observing this behavior by the other pedestrians, adopted this method as well (and it works!).

We ended up buying some postcards (which we sent most of today...until we ran out of stamps) rode the train a bit, and then decided it was time to be done...and we slept.

The next day we decided to walk along the City walk and then over the London Bridge to Bankside (near Cheapside...which, as it turned out, was not so cheap). Along these walks we saw Trafalgar Square (I took mom's photos by the GINORMOUSE lions). We saw a bunch of people gathering around something in a courtyard just across the street from us and so we went over to check it out. It turned out to be some random dancers doing some random dancing...

AND!!! I ACTUALLY stepped foot...both my feet...into the globe theatre! We stumbled upon St. Paul's cathedral (where a wedding was being held), walked across London bridge, walked down Cheapside, and went in and then out of the Tate Modern theater (to be revisited on a later date..I promise). We ate sandwiches from a TESCO on a lawn with tons of other people taking advantage of the beautiful day!

We are now nestled in our hotel room, ready for another night's sleep...

Tomorrow is Westminster Abbey!!

Qui cherche, trouve!

2009-05-03T13:12:00.000-07:00

Today is misty in the city.
The city is a place I never thought I would be. In fact, I used to promise myself I would never live in the city, and I felt nausea even thinking about it.
The fast pace that never lets you hear yourself think.
The fact that I have to wear shoes because walking barefoot on the pavement is just NOT done (for obvious reasons).
I shuddered to think of not being able to sense the changing seasons: the smells and sounds are different...I have almost always been able to smell the changing of the seasons - the changing of the guard of the earth. I could smell the rain in the air, though it was far away and could not be seen with the naked eye, and the curtain of rain that fell across the valley as I sat in a wooden chair on the porch. I would hear the migrations of the birds, and see the different flowers and plants. I used to see the very first buds of the season popping out. I would see the strange tulips and the shiny little buttercups bloom. There was an Evening Primrose vine that used to grow at the edge of the woods and our property. In the dead of summer our backyard was blanketed with Thistle and Queen Anne's Lace. There were these beautiful little flowers that only lasted one day, and their name slips my mind, but it takes them 2 weeks to prepare to bloom. Then, when they finally do, it is only for one night when the moon is bright, and then they fall asleep and never wake again. It amazes me that there are plants that struggle so hard to bloom...their life is built around one single night of glory, and a select few people are even able to witness this magic of their delicate little white petals burst open! And then they slowly fade away as the sun rises the next morning. It almost seems like a useless life...why do they exist if no one is able to enjoy them and they have such a difficult life only to die in the wake of the morning?
But here I am, in the city...the MIDDLE of the city...I live in the Center of Nashville. It is not a very large city, comparatively, and I try not to think about it too very much. As long as I can lay in my bed in the early morning and close my eyes and listen to the chatter and twitterings of the birds and squirrels outside my window, my heart is warmed and I am content. I have found that one can be happy where one is if one looks for the good and beautiful things that are all around them. The things that connect with their spirit - Je leur donnerai le meme coeur et je mettrai en vous un esperit nouveau! ~Luc 21.31.

2009-04-29T08:23:00.000-07:00

So, this is my first blog attempt, and my very first words. I feel like a child in a new building, who hears the voices of loved ones, but is lost in some strange room...following the muffled mutters of beloved voices in the distance as the only guidance. It is a feeling inside my stomach of grit determination and also wonder...like sand in my stomach. Maybe this does not make sense to you...
It is the same feeling that I got the first time I went spelunking at New Frontiers. We entered the cave, and I hung back with a lady named Janet Harrison who was a staff member there. As we traversed the long tight passageways, Janet would suddenly grab my arm and whisper into the darkness, "Let's go this way!" and I would find myself squeezing though crags in the walls and ending up in all different shapes and positions in order to shimmy through. I could not see anything directly in front of me, but I kept feeling her toes as we crawled. Sometimes I saw a faint glimmer of some other camper's flashlight in the distance, but that was not enough for me to see my way in the pitch dark. All the time I heard the faint rumble of voices in the distance and sometimes a shriek as some girl touched something "slimy" (probably a poor stalactite or stalagmite covered in drips of pure mineral water). I remember thinking, 'What if she loses her way and we cannot find the group again?' So I memorized the rocks that I was crawling on, and what they felt like. I then kept a close eye out for any sign of the other campers so that i could crawl in their direction if need be.
We always ended up getting to a destination before the group, so we would crouch in a bend in the rocks until the group passed by. Then we would silently step out and in line with them. I would walk along until I heard that clear voice filled with adventure whisper, "come on, Dee! Let's go this way!" and away we would go again! It was glorious! To this day Janet Harrison is one of my mentors (though I have never told her that...I think she would become shy if I told her). It is because of her that I knew everything about the cave that I did. It is because of her that I was inspired to work there in the first place. And to this day she is one of my very dearest friends. One day I will post a photo of her ::smiles::

this concludes my speech...are there any questions?