View from my front porch

This is why I love where I am.  It's easy to forget how beautiful things are and to take people and places for granted.  It's hard to forget today.

Dinner for one...

My first personal day -- courtesy of my crew

I'm not one for skipping class, showing up to work late, or missing work for anything short of bronchitis.  Today was an exception.

This past week I've been feeling exceptionally burnt out from a combination of getting over a cold and having worked a long season that's nearing its end. I have been thinking about the idea of perspective and how it can be gained and lost, and what it means for your sense of place, decision making, and ideas of what you value.  In the past few days, I've been playing with being intentional about restoring a sense of perspective--which may just be a wordy way of saying I've taken two baths, called my family, tried to read a book I started months ago, wrote a letter to a good friend, went hiking, and have been trying to get more sleep.

Today was lovely, too, for both perspective and rest.

A few days ago, as we were "daily-ing" (cleaning a cabin when the guests haven't changed... a general daily "tidy up"), one of my crew members and I were talking about energy levels throughout the season, the role of rest, and persistence.  Without thinking twice, she said I should take Sunday off of work.  Sundays are the big "turn-over" day in the summer (when all the guests check out and the new set checks in by 3 pm), so I spend the day coordinating the deep cleaning of 10 cabins and 3 lodge rooms.  Not the best day to take off. So she convinced me to take off Tuesday as a personal day instead.  Everyone on my crew said they'd cover me for the day and didn't mind cleaning extra so I could have a day off.

Here's how I started my day....

... Riding to the top of Indiana Hill on a horse named Buckle to watch the sunrise over the aspen-dotted mountains on the way to breakfast out by Homestead Cabin -- breakfast croissants, blueberry muffins, fresh fruit, and coffee.

 ~perspective~

One week of energy awareness: no coffee, no booze, Kombucha every day

It's easy, especially at a ranch, to regulate energy levels chemically.  I was more addicted to caffeine during my first months working here than at any other point in my life.  People are interesting, and the weather is perfect, and porch sitting until late at night has never seemed more compelling.   And there's always a pot of coffee sitting around in case you stay up too late to lift you up and carry you through the next day.

I'm on the 3rd day of a no-coffee, no-alcohol, go-to-sleep-on-time week.  I'm limiting refined sugar, not having any deserts, and keeping away from red meat as well.  Hoping to get more in touch with my body's un-influenced energy cycle and see to what extent my energy is chem-dependent currently.

I like coffee and I like a beer after work, so I doubt this will last forever.  The idea is to question the role of unintentional habits of consumption in my life -- especially those that might give me "false" impressions of rest and wakefulness.

In place of those beverages, I'm having one bottle of Kombucha, which I was just recently introduced to, each day.  I'm still buying it bottled at the supermarket, usually "GT's" brand, in part because I'm still new to and a little wary of home fermentation and probiotics, in part because I don't know how temporary my home here is (1 month or 6 months....), and mostly because I don't have much space and haven't found a person to get a "Kombucha mama" from.

They taste a little fruity, fairly sour, a little carbonated, fairly vinegar-y.   I like the idea of Kombucha as much or more than I like the actual beverage.

For more information on Kombucha, see http://thegreenest.net/tag/kombucha-brooklyn/

Starting to read Kerouac: Lamb, No Lion

From "The Portable Jack Kerouac"

Lamb, No Lion
1958

The Beat Generation is no hoodlumism. As the man who suddenly thought of that word “beat” to describe our generation, I would like to have my little say about it before everyone else in the writing field begins to call it “roughneck,” “violent,” heedless,” “rootless.” How can people be rootless? Heedless of what? Wants? Roughneck because you don’t come on elegant?

Beat doesn’t mean tired, or bushed, so much as it means beato, the Italian for beatific: to be in a state of beatitude, like St. Francis, trying to love all life, trying to be utterly sincere with everyone, practicing endurance, kindness, cultivating joy of heart. How can this be done in our mad modern world of multiplicities and millions? By practicing a little solitude, going off by yourself once in a while to store up that most precious of golds: the vibrations of sincerity.

Being bugged is not being beat. You may be withdrawn, but you don’t have to be mean about it. Beatness is not a form of tired old criticism. It is a form of spontaneous affirmation. What kinda culture you gonna have with everybody’s gray faces saying “I don’t think that’s quite correct”?

Let’s start at the beginning. After publishing my book about the beat generation I was asked to explain beatness on TV, on radio, by people everywhere. They were all under the impression that being beat was just a lot of frantic nowhere hysteria. What are you searching for? They asked me. I answered that I was waiting for God to show his face. (Later I got a letter from a 16-year old girl saying that was exactly what she’d been waiting for too.) They asked: How could this have anything to do with mad hepcats? I answered that even mad happy hepcats with all their kicks and chicks and hep talk were creatures of God laid out here in this infinite universe without knowing what for. And besides I have never heard more talk about God, the Last Things, the soul, the where-we-going than among the kids of my generation: and not the intellectual kids alone, all of them. In the faces of my questioners was the hopeless question: But Why? Billy Graham has a half million spiritual babies. This generation has many more “beat kiddies” and the relationship is close.

The Lost Generation of the 20s believed in nothing so they went their rather cynical way putting everything down. That generation forms the corpus of our authority today, and is looking with disfavor upon everything, in the confession of everything to everyone. The Lost Generation put it down; the Beat Generation is picking it all up again. The Lost Generation believes that there will be some justification for all the horror of life. The first of the Four Noble truths is: All Life Is Suffering. Yet I hear them talk about how it’s worth it, if you only believed, if you let that holy flow gush endlessly out of that secret source of living bliss.

“Man, I dig everything!” So many cats said that to me on the sidewalks of the 1940s when beatness rose like a ethereal flower out of the squalor and madness of the times. “But why?” I’d say. “You haven’t got a cent, no place to sleep.” Answer: “Man, you gotta stay high, that’s all.” Then I’d see these same characters next day all bushed and beat brooding on a bench in the park, refusing to talk to anybody, storing up for more belief.

And there they all were, at night, the bop musicians were on the stand blowing, the beat was great, you’d see hundreds of heads nodding in the smoky dimness, nodding to the music, “Yes, yes, yes” is what their nodding heads said, so musingly, so prettily, so mystically. Musicians wanting for their turn to take a solo also listened nodding, Yes. I saw a whole generation nodding yes. (I also saw the junkies nod No over their bed-edges.)

I don’t think the Beat Generation is going to be a moronic band of dope addicts and hoodlums. My favorite beat buddies were all kind, good kids, eager, sincere (“Now lend me five minutes of your time and listen to every word I’m going to say!”)…such tender concern! Such a pathetic human hope that all will be communicated and received, and all made well by this mysterious union of minds. The dope thing will die out. That was a fad, like bathtub gin. In the Beat Generation instead of an old Lost Generation champagne bottle intertwined in one silk stocking, you found an old benny tube in the closet, or an ancient roach in a dresser, all covered with dust. The dope thing was confined to a handful of medical metabolic junkies before it was given such publicity by the authorities. Then it got out of hand.

As to sex, why not? One woman interviewer asked me if I thought sexual passion was messy, I said “No, it’s the gateway to paradise.”

Only bitter people put down life. The Beat Generation is going to be a sweetie (as the great Pinky Lee would say, Lee who loves children, and all generations are children).

I only hope there won’t be a war to hurt all these beautiful people, and I don’t think there will be. There appears to be a Beat Generation all over the world, even behind the Iron Curtain. I think Russia wants a share of what America has—food and clothing and pleasantries for most everyone.

I prophesy that he Beat Generation which is supposed to be nutty nihilism in the guise of new hipness, is going to be the most sensitive generation in the history of America and therefore it can’t help but do good. Whatever wrong comes will come out of evil interference. If there is any quality that I have noticed more strongly than anything else in this generation, it is the spirit of non-interference with the lives of others. I had a dream that I didn’t want the lion to eat the lamb and the lion came up and lapped my face like a big puppy dog and then I picked up the lamb and it kissed me. This is the dream of the Beat Generation.

"Problems are what make us"

I've been reading through a book that one of the ladies on my housekeeping crew wrote in college for her capstone project.  It's a collection of stories from people she met while spending time in Kenya a few years ago.  Most are heavy, almost all are written by people with a limited education communicating in a second or third language, and all are incredibly strong and hopeful.  There is a simplicity to the sentence structures and voice that makes them seem even more true.

Here's a passage I read a few days ago to share.  All credit to Sarah for her work:

Every hard situation in life has a reason and the best you can do is to learn from them and they help us in facing life the way it comes. Problems are there to shape us, we are sometimes rejected so that we can be able to show love to them who have passed through the same.

Accepting yourself the way you have is good despite your background. You can only have a bright future if you don’t dwell on the past. We learn from mistakes and our weak points are suppposed to strengthen us but not discourage us in life.

The Duck Pluck

Not sure if you remember the ducklings I wrote about a few months ago.... The sous chef at the ranch bought three to raise and eventually eat.  There's been a bear in the area lately, and they were starting to fly.   She didn't want them to get lost or eaten by a non-human mammal.  So today was slaughter day back behind the staff bunkhouse.

I knew I would be a little traumatized.  As an American omnivore, I'm used to pre-cut, de-veined, no-blood-visible, surely-this-never-had-a-head-attached, prepackaged and cellophane wrapped meat.  For a few years now I've been wanting to watch something like this - to understand my food choices, especially those involving other animals, in a more personal way.  Today was that day.

For ducks, they had a very good life.  Living at a ranch, lots of personal attention, plenty of food and space to run around and develop healthy bones and muscles.

I wore blue war paint and watched with 2 coworkers as three of our coworkers chopped off their heads with a machete.  Painless.  And evidently meat tastes better when the animal is bled right away (aka don't just wring the necks.)

Then I was sent to the kitchen for a large, duck-sized pot and to boil some water.  Post rigor mortis they become more difficult to pluck, so dunking the body into hot water makes them pluckable again.

I helped pluck part of the black duck, Thornton.  Plucked some from the belly and some from the wings and made a nice bare spot.  Tried to have dinner, but I lost my appetite.  Especially for chicken and sausage pizza.  I'd washed my hands 5 times but still ended up going into the kitchen to wear a latex glove while I ate because I couldn't shake the feeling that they were dirty and covered in down and blood.

This is good.  And exactly what I had hoped it might be like.  Maybe I won't be eating meat for a while, but I doubt it will be forever.  I watched 3 ducks have their heads macheted off and helped pluck one named Dunston, bless his heart.  I feel like a more balanced omnivore already.

Happy Christmas in July!

Christmas in July, Housekeeping style

Love is not fragile

Who taught you

to be sparing

with your love

as though your heart was a bank

as though love could dry up

nonsense

it is as if the ocean complained

it was too

wet

love is not fragile

it is as common as breath

it is play money

it is a race

to give more

go first

say it with impunity

you think you will ache

with vulnerability

but the strangest thing will happen

you will nearly drown

with peace.

Samantha Reynolds

Thanks to Laura F, pen pal extraordinaire for sending this to me a few months ago.  It's on top of my dresser in front of a painting.  I read it often and think of it even more.

Business mode: I've shaved my legs

I spent the day operating in "Important, Not-Urgent" mode.   I like operating there the best, I think.  It leaves room for wondering and pricing, creativity and planning, R&D, list consolidation, and spring cleaning.

Took a nap after work, woke up at 8:30 pm, showered, shaved my legs, and took off my chipped red nail polish.  I'm not getting ready for a night on the town, making up for a low self-esteem, or dressing to impress. I've realized that most times I shave my legs, it's time for BUSINESS MODE.  Begin.

Guess what I'm doing right now....

The big 2-5

I wasn't sure how it would feel to have my birthday on a Sunday (aka turnover day.  aka chaos)

After finding the staff room covered with Kristen's birthday themed post-its with cartoons, different languages, and Lord-knows-what-else,  countless birthday shout-outs on the ranch radios, 4th of July costumes, an.... ecclectic... bag of gifts including 2 dead mice from all the housekeepers, and dinner accompanied by a St. Germain cocktail in town with two good friends in place of the otherwise mandatory welcome dinner with guests, I wouldn't have chosen to celebrate any other way.

Thanks to all for making my birthday such a special one.

Trick of the day: Bickmore "Bick 4" Leather Conditioner

Conditions, Cleans, Polishes, and Protects without darkening leather.   CC, a guest this week, brought me her bottle of Bick 4 at lunch today since I asked her advice on leather maintenance a couple of nights ago at barn dance after scuffing up my riding/line dancing boots pretty badly.

I've thought for years that the more people you meet, the more you know about the world, and the more "little tricks" you pick up on.   Tricks that make life easier, better maintained, more efficient, more enjoyable....

Bick's is the latest one of these tricks.  My boots haven't looked this good since the day I arrived to the ranch.

A day off

I cleaned cabins in the morning, sorted out a dysfunctional system or two in my department, finished up my first one-month-employee eval and meeting, and worked on pricing and ordering new kitchen towels, a ceiling fan duster, and assorted cleaning supplies.

Thursday was kebab day for lunch.  I had a cup of coffee on my porch and changed into boots before Horse Olympics.  I sat in on the event with some of the guests since I would like to learn more technical riding.  Sitting on a couch-horse on a trail ride without even trotting and looking at trees makes me want to just be on my own feet, and I've only ridden a handful of times.

Went on an evening stroll with a girl on staff named Brandi from Purdue and a Coke that ended up with us bushwhacking back through some trees, walking up part of a river in tennis shoes, and climbing along a fence to avoid stepping in boggy-snake-land.  Had some friends over to my little nook/cave/treehouse/room and shared a bottle of wine.

Went on a 12 mile hike yesterday to Three Island Lake and hung out by the lake reading a book, eating a PBJ and chatting w 2 coworkers for a few hours midway.  Fried Pickles and Dale's Pale Ale with live blues music and dancing 5 year olds at the Clark, CO local bar that evening.

Today I was back to work.  I have some really good employees.  Had a couple conversations that weren't pleasant but were necessary, so that's good.   Just got from an after-work hike to the cliffs behind the ranch.  I want to know what caused them.

Tomorrow's the big housekeeping turnover day, so as my friend Evan likes to remind me, I'll be "the lady of the hour" all day.  Each week has been smoother than the week before.  Partly practice, partly new ideas/systems that I'm coming up with along the way to make things easier, more organized, and more efficient.

Life is busy but good here. I think I'm where I'm supposed to be for right (as I tend to think about most places.)

Turnover Day: Take 1

10 cabins, 3 lodge rooms, 33 beds, 20 people, 5 hours between people leaving and the next guests arriving.   Done.  Managed.  The people involved don't appear to hate their lives.  And the laundry room doesn't look like a tornado hit it anymore.

I'd call it a success.

#breatheinbreatheout

Week 2 here we come!

Training and training and cleaning and cleaning

Housekeeping has become much more interesting now that I'm in control of teaching and training.  My neurons are firing in ways that they haven't for a while, and the organizational details can be overwhelming but mostly make me feel alive.

My crew seems like they're going to be really good.  Granted first impressions can be wrong, but they all want to do well, want to work hard, and have interesting things to say.  They'll be turning over a cabin by themselves for the first time today as a sort of "final exam."  I've hidden a few things in easy-to-miss places for them to find. Here's hoping.....

After quality is up to 4-diamond standards, efficiency will be the trick.  Quickness comes with time and real time constraints once guests are here, I think.  It's harder to teach perfectionism if you don't start at the beginning.  That's my theory at least.

I had to give a 15 minute talk to the whole staff yesterday.  I started with a somewhat revised/abbreviated history of Boston and the Boston Commons (with stick figure pictures of people, their cows, and private v common grazing land.)  Decided that the "Tragedy of the Commons" has not only been repeated in our fisheries and throughout human history but also in the history of common staff areas at the ranch and asked people to decide to be better than what we, as humans, tend to default to (destruction of common areas, overgrazing, overuse of shared but limited resources.)   Then I got into the details about where to find chemicals, what towels and TP are "guest only," and why if you take a vacuum, bottle of disinfectant, etc. you should put it back where you found it.

I honestly think I received more compliments on that 15 minute chat than on anything else I've done in my life.  Not sure if that's a testament to how nice my coworkers are or how beautiful my cow stick figures are.

Things have been busy, but hopefully I'll have time to post sometime in coming weeks between cookouts, game nights, barn dances, cleaning, meetings, and other "managerial responsibilities"

How to prevent shop talk after work

Spent an hour after dinner with my friend (and coworker) Lisa playing with her three new ducklings.  Didn't spend even a minute of it thinking about work, planning, orientation, cleaning, or new staff.  To avoid shop talk, just add ducklings.  (Don't get too attached.  It's a ranch.  We'll be eating these two at the end of the season.  Hopefully they won't be quite as adorable at that point....)

The Internet and the human brain

"Are sudoku puzzles the only thing stopping the species turning into a horde of attention-deficient, socially-dysfunctional, email addicts – part human, part smartphone?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up to a BBC article titled "Does the Internet Rewire the Brain?"  Being a blogger, a psych major, and a general neuroplasticity geek, I was impressed with how accessibly and succinctly it was written.  Here's a clip to hopefully get you hooked into reading the whole thing:

Fear not, there is some good news from neuroscience. But first, it is my duty to tell you the bad news. You may want to put down your phone and take note, this is the important bit.

The truth is that everything you do changes your brain. Everything. Every little thought or experience plays a role in the constant wiring and rewiring of your neural networks. So there is no escape. Yes, the internet is rewiring your brain. But so is watching television. And having a cup of tea. Or not having a cup of tea. Or thinking about the washing on Tuesdays. Your life, however you live it, leaves traces in the brain.

 Worrying about the internet is just the latest in a long line of fears society has had about the changes technologies might bring. People worried about books when they first became popularly available. In Ancient Greece, Socrates worried about the effect of writing, saying it would erode young people's ability to remember. The same thing happened with television and telephones. These technologies did change us, and the way we live our lives, but nothing like the doom-mongers predicted would stem from them.

But is the internet affecting our brains in a different, more extraordinary way? There is little evidence to suggest harm. Here we are, millions of us, including me and you, right now, using the internet, and we seem okay. Some people worry that, even though we cannot see any ill-effects of the internet on our minds, there might be something hidden going on. I am not so worried about this, and I'll tell you why
We regularly do things that have a profound effect on our brains – such as reading or competitive sports – with little thought for our brain fitness. When scientists look at people who have spent thousands of hours on an activity they often see changes in the brain. Taxi drivers, famously, have a larger hippocampus, a part of the brain recruited for navigation. Musicians’ brains devote more neural territory to brain regions needed for playing their instruments. So much so, in fact, that if you look at the motor cortex of string players you see bulges on one side (because the fine motor control for playing a violin, for example, is only on one hand), whereas the motor cortex of keyboard players bulges on both sides(because piano playing requires fine control of both hands).

So practice definitely can change our brains. By accepting this notion, though, we replace a vague worry about the internet with a specific worry: if we use the internet regularly, what are we practicing?

For the rest of the article, visit: http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20120424-does-the-internet-rewire-brains 

Missed Connections

Sometimes when I'm alone I read Missed Connections on craigslist.com from different cities. Today while reading the Indianapolis section, I came across one to the garbage man.

My Garbage man - m4m - 23 (North Keystone)

Date: 2012-04-15, 6:17AM EDT
Reply to: ft96v-2944894550@pers.craigslist.org

You are my garbage man. I helped you with my trash once. Friday you must have dropped your pack of cigarettes by my curb. I felt bad cuz only 2 were missing so you clearly just bought them. I still have them. If you dont read this you'll just have to wait till next Friday to get them back. If you Do! Let me know the brand and I'll tell you where to get them : ) ps.. I don't smoke so it still a full pack
Location: North Keystone
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 2944894550

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For a few years now, I've been following a blog by watercolor artist Sophie Blackall who paints scenes inspired by missed connections posted in NYC. I love the interactions between strangers and wondering what might have been. Check her blog out when you have the chance



Monday, May 3, 2010
- m4w - 25 (Astoria)
We both purchased owl statues today. You are the classy looking dame in a red dress. I am the mustachioed gentleman. I think we should meet up and discuss further wildlife decor.

----------------------------------------------------



Sunday, February 21, 2010
- m4w - 27

I am a nice, quiet guy, and I am about to have a missed connection with someone at my local laundromat when I go in a half hour to do my laundry. I'll probably be sitting in a corner reading, because I don't like to leave my laundry alone. Maybe you're there doing your laundry too?

-------------------------------------------------------


Friday, January 22, 2010
L Train
Hey, guy that got on at 1st Ave dressed all in black with the throat tattoo. Thanx for existing.

Back to the 317

It's been snowing for two days now after a couple of weeks in the 60s. I released my pet salamander, and I'm hoping that she has found a warm patch of muck somewhere to bury into.

My bags are packed, and tomorrow I fly to Indy to begin my four weeks of PTO! A salary's an interesting thing when you're used to scholarships and hourly work.

As I told my coworker today, I need "a change of air" for a while(just when I thought my English was getting to a native level...) By that, of course, I mean a change of scenery.

Proper Posture in a Ghost Town

Happy Easter!

Things here at the ranch are quiet. I've seen one person all day. Now that the guests and 2/3 of the staff have left, there's been a pretty drastic tempo change. Not bad, just a quick change. Three more staff left yesterday, so it is really bordering on being a ghost town.

In other news, I ran 8 miles today, the longest I've ever run. I felt like I was dragging at the end but averaged 10 minute miles throughout. Not bad.

Looks like I may make it through the Indy Mini Marathon on the 5th without croaking after all!

Before heading out, I read up on correct running posture. Which lead to a search on general posture tips. Here's an article I came across about posture while sitting at a computer. Evidently sitting in a chair puts about 400 pounds of pressure on your lower back. If only I'd paid attention to this back when I was a student....

For your reading and sitting pleasure:
http://www.wristhand.com/ergonomics.html

On Awareness

The attainment of autonomy is manifested by the release or recovery of three capacities: awareness, spontaneity and intimacy....

Awareness means the capacity to see a coffeepot and hear the birds sing in one's own way, and not the way one was taught. It may be assumed on good grounds that seeing and hearing have a different quality for infants than for grownups, and that they are more esthetic and less intellectual in the first years of life.

A little boy sees and hears birds with delight. Then the "good father" comes along and feels he should "share" the experience and help his son "develop." He says: "That's a jay, and this is a sparrow." The moment the little boy is concerned with which is a jay and which is a sparrow, he can no longer see the birds or hear them sing. He has to see and hear them the way his father wants him to. Father has good reasons on his side, since few people can afford to go through life listening to the birds sing, and the sooner the little boy starts his "education" the better. Maybe he will be an ornithologist when he grows up.

A few people, however, can still see and hear in the old way. But most of the members of the human race have lost the capacity to be painters, poets or musicians, and are not left the option of seeing and hearing directly even if they can afford to; they must get it secondhand. The recovery of this ability is called here "awareness." Physiologically awareness is eidetic perception, and allied to eidetic imagery. Perhaps there is also eidetic perception, at least in certain individuals, in the spheres of taste, smell and kinesthesia, giving us the artists in those fields: chefs, perfomers and dancers, whose eternal problem is to find audiences capable of appreciating their products.

Awareness requires living in the here and now, and not in the elsewhere, the past or the future. A good illustration of possibilities, in American life, is driving to work in the morning in a hurry. The decisive question is: "Where is the mind when the body is here?"

from Games People Play, p178

What to do with complete autonomy and no guests: 2 days of projects

The "mud season" began yesterday morning, which is to say that the guest season ended and over half the staff left the ranch. Last mud season, also called "off season", I flew back to Indiana, so I didn't quite know what was expected of me.

So far so good! Without guests around to attend to and clean up after, and with some solid coworkers to work alongside, I've seen more accomplished in 2 work days than I would have ever imagined.




The former housekeeping department head and I (current housekeeping department head!) have been sorting through, throwing away, donating, reselling, and reorganizing probably five full years worth of clutter and useless linens that have ended up in our department. In about 2 more days, we will have found homes for almost every misplaced item, sorted out about 8 bags of old/ugly/useless-to-us-but-still-nice bedding and sheet sets to sell at a garage sale in May, and completely transformed the 8' by 24' of essentially worthless storage space that we started in on yesterday morning.






I wanted to move out a shelving unit of staff sheets and pillows out of the housekeeping room and move it to the staff laundry room. Not in our way anymore and much closer to the place where they are actually used.

The project was started and finished yesterday.





Met yesterday with the head of maintenance to talk about ideas for redoing the entire shelving and storage system. Our drinks are currently stored in 4 different places around the room. Queen and twin fitted sheets get mixed up ( = wasted time running back from cabins for the correct sheet) because there is no vertical divider between them with our current system. One of the cabinets is an old sink base. Which has a hole for the plumbing. Which mice like to run up through. Sanitary place to store mugs and silverware? Not so much.

He's switching them all out and we should have a completely new, more intuitive, better organized, and far more functional shelving system by the end of April.





Not to mention changing out the toilet seat in my new bathroom, finding a new box frame for my bed in old storage, locating caulk to redo the seal around my bathroom floor and shower, going to my first seasonal managers meeting, starting the process of finding and repairing broken vacuums from all over the ranch (7 found so far...), making a page long list of ideas for off season projects and ideas, and washing, folding, and storing all of the guest and staff laundry that was piled up in mountains from the end of the season (with the help of one of my coworkers from my crew last season.)




And it's just the second day. I'm getting the impression that I do well in work situations with high trust, high autonomy, and a good amount of unstructured time....

Viva la Mud Season.

"A geologic map is a textbook on one sheet of paper" - John McPhee

Two weeks ago, I set off for a 36 hour road trip to Utah with two coworkers, a man named Russell from town, and his dog Cortez (see picture below) to Dinosaur National Monument.



In addition to the over 1500 fossils at the Dinosaur Quarry inside the National Monument, Vernal, Utah has has a great natural history museum and more chicken-friend lunch specials than I've seen anywhere in my life.

We left Steamboat Springs in the evening, drove 3 or 4 hours across the Utah border, camped out, and had Fat Tire by the campfire.



The next morning, we changed out a car battery in Vernal after having to call up a park ranger to help us jump the car, visited the natural history museum (by the ranch maintenance man Bill's recommendation), had an "Eye Opener" at a local coffee shot (brewed coffee with a shot of espresso), touched fossils at the quarry, hiked up to see some pictographs and old homestead property as the sun was setting, and headed back to Colorado. On our way back to Steamboat Springs, we turned down an offer for a remarkably low-priced box of "loose sirloin steak" from a 35 or 40 year old man named Brian at the gas station claiming to be a Vietnam vet....

Grabbed some Mickey D's and headed back to the ranch as dreams of dinosaurs danced through our heads.





Perfect company. Perfect amount of time. Perfectly acceptable place to be openly and passionately excited about science, dinosaurs, and geology.

From Spring to Winter in 30 Seconds

Today I went out for a run with my coworker Lauren in shorts, a T-shirt, and a thin jacket after work in 55 degree weather on the recently dry driveway. After 3 miles, it started getting windy. At 3.5 miles, a blizzard started.

We ran back in our shorts and finished off our 6 mile goal indoors at the fitness center as the feeling came back into our legs and the snow melted off our backs. (I'm training for the Indianapolis Mini Marathon in May.)

As of today, I am officially a runner and officially a resident of Colorado.



Toma ya.

New Job Prospect

A few days ago the recruiting manager at a temp agency I work with from time to time in Indianapolis sent me the following e-mail (typos intentional as message has been copied and pasted):

Hi Kristen, are you available to do a truck show convention March 6-8 passing out ice crean as a hostess to truck show participants. You would need t wear ski apparel or fur like jacket with black leggings and winter boots. The 6tha and 7th are full days but the 8th is just 9-11;30 as f now. Please let me know as soon as possible.

Thanks

I must be doing something right in my life to get offers like this! Unfortunately (or fortunately), I'll be working at the ranch still, so I'll have to pass this time....

Herpetoculture: Reflections on the will to survive and a salamander named Neli

Just after Valentine's Day, I was ironing sheets by myself in the Housekeeping room when Miles, one of the ranch hands, came in with a shovel full of sludge. He had been cleaning out the 8 inches coffee grounds, mud, motor oil, and general filth that had accumulated in the drainage ditch in the wash bay, the garage area where we clean off ranch vehicles before picking up guests.

The sludge moved. I saw a tail...then a face...then ran to grab a jar.

Since she lost her sludgy home, I decided to adopt Neli the salamander as my pet. I was so impressed by her ability to live in car runoff, coffee grounds, and Lord-knows-what-else and will to make it through the -20 degree mornings of a Colorado winter alive that I was immediately drawn to her. (It is still unclear whether Neli is male or female but most people refer to her as "she") Despite warnings from other staff members that she wouldn't live more than 24 hours, she has been alive for nearly a month.

Note: Neli is pronounced "Nelly"

Here is a photo of her in her new home.



For her first few days, I just fed her dead flies since they're the most readily available food here during the Winter. Since then I've been experimenting with meal worms, night crawlers, and crickets. Somehow no one that I live with has complained yet about their presence in our kitchen and refrigerator...

With my latest library finds, I've been learning that I'm a part of a much larger community of domesticated amphibian caretakers.

The hobby of herpetology has evolved into one word, herpetoculture, which by definition means "the keeping and propagating of reptiles and amphibians in a domestic setting." In today's hobby there is a somewhat one-sided view of things--reptiles are much more popular than amphibians. Reliable statistics tell us snakes and lizards far outnumber frogs, toads, salamanders, and other amphibians in terms of what is being kept and bred. This is rather unfortunate. In this book you will be introduced to the wonderful world of amphibians and discover what fascinating creatures they are. After, you may find yourself thinking about keeping a poison frog or a Spotted Salamander rather than a garter snake or a Leopard Gecko.
- Introduction to Amphibians Look-and-Learn, p4

The New York Times recently published an article called "Bucket Brigade Gives a Lift So Salamanders Can Live to Mate" that begins with the sentence "Salamander people are special people." We are indeed.

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/02/22/us/volunteers-offer-salamanders-a-chance-to-mate.html

Neophily: Exuberence for Novelty predicts well being

Article From Deric Bownds' MindBlog at

http://mindblog.dericbownds.net/2012/03/neophily-exuberance-for-novelty.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+Mindblog+%28MindBlog%29
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I've been meaning to point to John Tierney's interesting piecein the NYTimes that emphasizes the work of Robert Cloninger, the psychiatrist who developed personality tests for measuring the trait of novelty seeking:

...a trait long associated with trouble.. problems like attention deficit disorder, compulsive spending and gambling, alcoholism, drug abuse and criminal behavior...After extensively tracking novelty-seekers, researchers are seeing the upside. In the right combination with other traits, it’s a crucial predictor of well-being. Winifred Gallagher's new book “New: Understanding Our Need for Novelty and Change” ...argues that neophilia has always been the quintessential human survival skill, whether adapting to climate change on the ancestral African savanna or coping with the latest digital toy from Silicon Valley....she classifies people as neophobes, neophiles and, at the most extreme, neophiliacs...

...adventurous neophiliacs are more likely to possess a “migration gene,” a DNA mutation that occurred about 50,000 years ago, as humans were dispersing from Africa around the world, according to Robert Moyzis, a biochemist at the University of California, Irvine. The mutations are more prevalent in the most far-flung populations, like Indian tribes in South America descended from the neophiliacs who crossed the Bering Strait.

...These genetic variations affect the brain’s regulation of dopamine, the neurotransmitter associated with the processing of rewards and new stimuli (and drugs like cocaine). The variations have been linked to faster reaction times, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder and a higher penchant for novelty-seeking and risk-taking.

Cloninger...has.. tracked people using a personality test he developed..looking for traits in people..who reported the best health, most friends, fewest emotional problems and greatest satisfaction with life...they scored high in novelty-seeking as well in persistence and self-transcendence (which he describes as the capacity to get lost in the moment doing what you love to do, to feel a connection to nature and humanity and the universe).

Advice from Gallagher and Cloninger:

..both advise neophiles to be selective in their targets. (Neophilia spurs us to adjust and explore and create technology and art, but at the extreme it can fuel a chronic restlessness and distraction.).. Don’t go wide and shallow into useless trivia...Use your neophilia to go deep into subjects that are important to you.

Library Card

I have one. In Steamboat Springs, Colorado.

It feels good. And it feels like a step toward semi-permanence.

I'm officially based out of the ranch until October now, so it was time.




My first set of books checked out with my new card yesterday:

A Basic Book of Amphibians Look-and-Learn by Mara
The Sustainability Revolution: Portrait of a Paradigm Shift by Andrew R. Edwards
Colorado's Dinosaurs by John T. Jenkins, Jr. and Jannice L. Jenkins
Rich Dad, Poor Dad by Robert T. Kiyosaki

Mardi Gras

Tonight´s sky

My first knitting pattern (for lilttle hands)

As usual, the cold weather has resparked my (k)need to knit.

Usually I think that a successful knitting project is just a sign that a person is good at following directions. So when I wanted to make fingerless gloves last week, my first reaction was to search for a pattern that I liked online.

No luck. I didn´t want a cable stitch because I was planning to use a self striping yarn and thought a simple pattern would look better. All the simple patterns were approximately twice the size of my child-sized hands.

So I tried combining two patterns I had seen with intuition to make my first Kristen-sized fingerless glove pattern.



My pattern:

Cast on 27 stitches in the round on size 5 or 6 double pointed needles

Knit 6 rounds in seed stitch

Knit 18 rounds in stockinette stitch



To set up for Gusset, Knit around until 2 stitches from the end of round. Place stitch marker. SM. M1. K1. M1. Place a second marker. SM. K1. You should be at the end of the round.

For Gusset:
Round 1 - K around
Round 2 - K around
Round 3 - K to first marker. SM. M1. K to next marker. M1. SM. Knit to end of round.

Repeat Gusset rounds 1-3 until there are 15 stitches between the stitch markers. K one more round, slipping these 15 stitches onto a stitch holder or safety pin.

Knit 10 more rounds in stockinette.

Knit 8 rounds in seed stitch. Cast off.


For Thumb:
Slip stitches from stitch holder onto 3 double pointed needles. K one round and pick up two stitches across the thumb.

Knit around and knit the two picked up stitches together.

Knit 6 more rounds in stockinette (knit in the round). Cast off. Weave in ends of yarn.



Here´s what they look like:

Voice

Sound is naught but broken air: and
every speech that is uttered, aloud or
privily, good or ill, is in substance nothing
but air.
Geoffrey Chaucer (1340–1400)


Currently Reading:
http://assets.booklocker.com/pdfs/3026s.pdf


Tonight I´ll be singing and playing the ukelele in front of a room full of staff and guests for the indoor campfire. Thankfully I´ll be one of between 3 and 5 people singing, and there will be some guitars, so there´s less pressure.

I haven´t sung in public in a performance setting since I dropped out of the Kalamazoo Children´s Choir in fifth grade.

Maybe this is the world´s way of telling me to get over myself and my secret fear of singing in front of people.

There was a need for people to perform since most of the usual ¨band¨ members are out of town this week. I can harmonize. Not particularly well, but I can do it. Apparently none of the other girls on staff feel comfortable harmonizing, so here goes nothing.





Even before this all came up, I´d been thinking about voice especially after a series of conversations with a guest here a few weeks ago. The role of voice in communication, in determining what story is passed down as history, in teaching and correcting, how a person´s voice changes in different languages, in singing, in laughing, in yelling, in whispering, and the role and power of rhetoric in society. (I just began reading The Praise of Folly by Erasmus.) She´s a retired speech language pathologist who also worked teaching English as a Second Language for some time. She left me her copy of A People´s History of the United States by Zinn after I asked her about it and expressed interest. Fascinating woman. Here´s an idea of its content from the back cover:

¨There is an underside to every age about which history does not often speak, because history is written from records left by the privileged.¨ - Howard Zinn



For today I´ll just be focusing on the physical voice. Practice is at 4. Performance is at 7:30. Songs include but are not limited to Wagon Wheel, I´ll Fly Away, Angel from Montgomery, She´ll Be Coming Around the Mountain with segway into You are my Sunshine, and Ghost Riders in the Sky.

Let it snow........

It´s been coming down all day. All the Colorado natives here at the ranch have been complaining about how little snow we´ve had. To me it´s seemed fine most days, but now I´m getting a taste for it.

It looks like a snow globe outside. A little unpleasant to walk from cabin to cabin in the bitter cold with huge snowflakes falling down the back of your neck, but it´s so lovely, and I can´t wait for it to stick and stop falling inside my jacket while I walk between cabins so I can go SKI.

One of the guests told me that she did a snow dance last night. Apparently it worked marvelously. Best snow we´ve had yet.