Christmas in Leon

Leon is a colonial city about 100 miles north of Mangua. It is a bustling metropolis of 400,000. It is hot and filled with spanish colonial architexture. I think it is on of my favorite cities.

The majority of the buildings are one story, so the cathedrals are very noticable. It is a perfect grid (maybe just the area surrounding the main plaza.) The roads are narrow, the sidwalks are raised and very thin and chok full of holes and hazards. All of the homes touch the sidewalks. Private meets public in a very immediate way. And walking around all of the doors to the homes are open with just a metal gate. Inside the homes are beautiful and huge. It is very obvious who is poor and who is well off. Beds, dingy clothes lines and TVs and nice chairs. And walking around I get a glimpse of all of these lives. Its amazing.

Christmas was good. The party outside of the cathedral on the night of Christmas Eve was insane. Not in a boozetown express way but in a family celebration way. Tons of kids, fireworks, candy, toys, food and noise. And amongst all of this was the calmness of a mass. The way the two met was insane- all of these people attending mass in the largest church in Latin America and then all of these people celebrating right outside, thousands of poeple... and the people from the plaza party would wander into the church. And no one seemed to be drinking it was a total family celebration. Beautiful and bizaare.

And yesterday, I spent the day tanning by the pool at my hostel and reading old New Yorkers. I had a nice dinner with some Europeans and drank rum. Pretty nice.

And today off to Esteli. For a national park and the best steak in Nicaragua.

Nicaragua_Ride The Snake

¨Ride the Snake.¨ Yesterday, I met a young aussie who is about 20 years old and on a 5 month journey with his mate from LA to Rio. And what he told me was all you have to do is ride the snake, just like Jim Morrison said. He was entirely not aware of self. It was pretty incredible. On the hour ride back to San del Sur (or something) this kid told us of his adventures which included: renting a mustang to drive from LA to Vegas, surfing in Mexico, getting robbed at gunpoint in El Salvador (it was destined to happen at some point), finishing his 5 month budget in 2. Essentially, he said just live life and ride the snake. Do whatever comes along...

I do not think this young aussie was a sage or anything close to that but it did remind me of a younger self. I don´t think I ever quoted Jim Morrison but I definitely remember saying things like this. So, here I am after almost 4 years of only spending time in North America I am back on the road. Things have definitly changed. I feel calmer and more confident. I am less scared of people or trust everyone more or don´t really have anything to lose?

It is refreshing to be back in the world. I had forgotten what it was like. It also seems way to familiar. Nicaragua is unreal. I know, I know, most people say this sort of thing about where ever they go. But I am serious. It is calm and not in the cheesy Bula sort of way. From the moment I got through customs it has been chill, chill, chill. I mean there wasn´t even the cattle gaurd moment at the airport. No one begs. I don´t feel ripped off. There´s not that many people. It is beautiful.

I just spend the past week with two friends from Wesleyan Maggie and Daniel. And it was a total dream. We ziplined, chilled with Ukrainian acrobats, hiked volcanoes, rode state ferries, surfed, drank beer, smoked cigars, played cards, drank rum... It was incredibly peaceful. It felt like vacation. And this morning they left. No one here speaks english. My lack of spanish is very noticeable. Today I took two cabs and two buses and arrived in Leon a city in the north west. It is calm, colonial, and super hot. There was much confusion and laughter and the singing of hotel california on my journey. I am headed to the beach again in a couple days.

And one of my favorite parts was when our ferry was pulling into the harbor a guy jumped off into the water to tie and guide the ferry boat into its spot. Unreal. Lobster men don´t do that. The only time I remember doing or seeing something like that was in 2000 and 2001 on the French Broad River during the Huck Finn adventures. Absolutly incredible.

Ok. Off to ride the snake a bit more.

Question

Why do people in Eugene hate Columbus Day and heart Halloween?

I mean seriously, no one batted an eye at one of our few national holidays and today everyone, including professors, was dressed up.

It is crazy to live so far from the Atlantic.

Apples

Eugene is filled with changing trees, shortening days. Fall is definitely here. Fall is my favorite season. Maybe its because I grew up in Vermont and fall to many of its residents and most outsiders its most beautiful time of year. I think this is true although in recent years I have begun to find beauty even in mud season. (This is made much easier by the one good thing Bush did in the past eight years which was pushing back spring daylight savings.)

I love fall. I love the start of school. And all of the hope, new goals, new perspectives fall brings. Sort of buckling down in cold and commitments with a very fresh memory of all of the goodness of summer.

Today I went apple picking. (I've been urban apple picking a few times in the past six weeks. There is rotting fruit all over Eugene and sometimes on walks with Diesel I pick apples and make crisp or sauce or whatever. ) And it was beautiful. I went with a new friend from grad school and the yellow dog. All I could do was smile. I think apple picking might be a perfect activity for me. All things I love come together: manual labor (ok, fine, a stretch), being outside, changing leaves, crisp air, bright colors, buying local, planning for baking, kids, dogs, honesty, america.

Today I made plans for the future: everything from I am going to eat two apples a day this week to I am coming back next weekend to buy more apples to I am going to bring my kids to a place like this every year and take pictures. I also thought of my childhood: picking apples at Chapin Orchard, the honey sticks and apple press and the amazing scraps of smooshed apples, loving the idea of being allowed to eat as many apples as possible, seeing friends from school and knowing home I was so close.

Recently, my grandparents gave me some pictures of me as a kid. And there are a bunch from a day my family went apple picking. My grandparents, my parents, my brother, and I. I am maybe 2 in the pictures. I look like I just learned to walk and have blond hair just around my head, it hasn't grown out yet. I am wearing red, canvas mary janes, white stockings with the crotch at my knees, a corduroy dress and a little sea breeze cardigan. And I look so happy. And everyone else does too. And its 1983 and everyone is wearing the right costumes. I wonder if we all really were. I am sure that I was and pretty sure Michael was too. But the rest, I don't know. Maybe apple picking always has and always will bring joy. Maybe its something to remember when I am in a fight with a future husband, or a current mother, or a future child... I think I will.

Another thing we did when I was growing up (maybe age 7-12, I don't exactly remember) was have an apple crisp making competition. Erin vs Michael with Momo as the judge. Always fun, always epic, I don't ever remember really winning or losing. This was a good play on Momo's part or I always lost and have blocked it out. Tonight I am making apple crisp. It is in the oven. I have found the perfect recipe and it is killer. It is from The King Arthur Cookbook (like the flour.)

4 cups apples (peeled, sliced)
3/4 cup flour
1 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup oatmeal
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon allspice
1/2 cup butter, softened

pre-heat oven: 375, cook for 35 to 40 minutes
and smoosh together with hands, this is key, and it will clump well, stirring does not work

Ok. Happy fall. Go pick apples. Make crisp. Be well.

First Day of School

So today was my first day of school. Grad School. Wow. I have been wanting to/thinking about/fretting about grad school for five years. And now I am here. I also applied for school in late January and was accepted and essentially signed up in April. Therefore this decision was made 5-6 months ago. That is a first. I can't remember the last time I made a decision this big that far in advance. So I will list some things.

About being a grad student:

1. People at UofO (University of Oregon) love grad students. The professors, the library people, everyone I've talked to attempting to get a work-study job. They love us. This seems a bit bizarre because I have never heard any of my friends at other institutions speak of this.
2. Undergraduates look like babies. Yes, babies. I keep trying to find one that looks to me like a senior and it is near impossible.
3. Undergraduates seem to all wear the same exact clothes. Like a uniform or something. And the kids love skinny jeans and Vans. Vans with long socks. It reminds me of the Penrod boys at Wesleyan. (Also, people in my program all look sort of outdoorsy which I thought was a grad school thing until today when I went to the architecture school for an ice cream social and met all of the architecture students and they looked like hipsters. Are they cooler then us? Maybe just smarter?)
   
4. Grad school is professional school. I will learn skills and techniques that will make me a more valuable asset in the workplace and that will hopefully land me a better paying job out of the gate.

On State School:

1. I believe that folks on the West Coast are kinder then the East Coast. It is my truth. Except when it comes to dealing with any sort of office: financial aid, registrar, cashier, payroll... They lack all customer service skills. It is shocking.
2. Everything is done on the internet. I mean everything. I wasn't in college that long ago. But seriously, when I go to one of the above mentioned offices to take care of some sort of business the person at the desk pretty much turns their computer to "show me." And then click, click, click, click and then hands me a colored piece of paper with instructions and then sends me on my way. WTF. Seriously. Lets talk, lets do this together, lets ease some bit of nervousness. Whatever... (I will note here I am very grateful of all of Momo's work on this sort of BS while I was at Wes and throw out a thank you to all of the people at North College who made that part of college easy. And all of the love they gave me.)
3. There are a ton of students. I think around 20,000. And I feel it when I walk around.
4. People wear a lot of OREGON gear.
5. And the bike parking is like parking in a city. Totally jammed up. I will try to get a photo on here.

Ok. With that I will now get back to my Planning Analysis reading as I am meeting folks for beers at 9pm

First Impressions

Ok. So lots has happened in the past few weeks: attended my first rodeo, moved to Eugene, started grad school... I have a lot to say and some good pictures which I hope I will share. Blogging sometimes feels like therapy in that if I think about what I am going to say it ends up contrived and I feel like I have already resolved all issues (in therapy) or my astute observations have become unfunny (blogging.)

I just got back from an overnight retreat in the Cascades with the folks in my program first year students and professors. It was nice and simple and Oregon.

1. Many people, perhaps the majority, wore low hiking boots. I think that some of you would assume that I do the same on a regular basis, but I do not. I learned about the fashion sneaker sometime in 2002. There was a hiking option, but LBH, there's no way anyone would hit the trail in their jeans and low hikers.
2. Lots of wedding rings.
3. No one has heard of Wesleyan. And I realize how old/far I've come by not asking everyone where they went to school. More like what have you been up to recently.
4. No one responds negatively to super annoying people. They just don't react at all. I find this super impressive and makes me realize even more the level of professionalism that is grad school.
5. I think people used the word "sustainability" about 50 hundred times over the past two days.
   
6. Everyone was pumped about doing good in the world. For real. Everyone wants to solve problems and make positive change. Awesome. I am excited to be surrounded by these people for the next couple years.

And about Eugene:

1. It has rained only about twice since I've been here about 9 days. It was cold and wet. It makes me fear the "winter rains" which I've heard about on OPB (Oregon Public Broadcasting.)
2. After I make relevant, smart observations about Eugene and its citizenry I often get the response "oh, thats Eugene." I find this annoying and condescending. And it makes me feel out of place and not part of the gang.
3. Everyone bikes here. Everyone sort of judges people who use cars. People love bikes and talking about bikes. I am a happy owner of three.
   

Goat Farmer

I am wrapping up my time here in Lakeview. And I have to say goodbye to folks I've been working with all year. Today I said goodbye to the goat farmer I've been working with since February.

This man is 73 years old. I met him in February. At the time his goats were delivering babies. Tons of them. About 40 total. He called us for help so he could build a fence so the goats had a healthy goat to acreage ratio. I've gotten to know him pretty well over the past few months. My friends and mom have met him. He is kind and old and quick to smile. He always says that he doesn't want to end up sitting on the couch all day watching TV with a fuzzy blanket. And I don't blame him.

This man has also shared so much of his life story with me. He told me about the time in 1979 he decided to expand his successful feed lot in California. Less then a year after he borrowed 250k from Farm and Home Agency (its something like that I forget, but a department in the federal government) the market shattered. Cattle went from selling at $3 a pound to 18cents. He lost everything overnight and paid it back. I think he finished paying it back in the late '90s. And he mentioned he did not participate in a class-action lawsuit against the federal government. He doesn't regret it. He loves this country. He served for 14 years in the army and fought in Korea. He just doesn't understand how he has ended up so poor. He worked hard his whole life and did everything above the table and he is still dirt poor. So poor he can't improve his small herd of goat.

This man has had goats for about 6 years. He bought three goats for less then $100 and now he has about 100 head. The two years prior to this he began to breed his does. And for two years in a row he had a crop of stillborn babies. And he had no idea why. Can you imagine delivering 30 dead goat babies. Two years in a row and not knowing why. I can't imagine anything more horrific. He thinks he feed them bad hay. Unlike cows, goats have very sensitive stomachs and cannot digest even a tiny bit of moldy hay. And this is the kind of mold that the regular eye cannot see.

This man was so happy and relieved to have 47 healthy baby goats this year. He was finally looking forward to having a business.

As it turns out, I was unable to help him find money to build his fence. And with the price of fuel being so high and in turn the price of feed being so high he must make a choice about whether to continue with the business of goat farming or scale down to make it a manageable hobby. I've been hoping he does the latter. But it is hard to tell a 73 year old that when you are 27.

As of today he has decided to downsize the herd. He is going to start taking them to a livestock auction in Fresno starting in a couple weeks.

Looking for Housemate

http://eugene.craigslist.org/roo/814471165.html

Hobbies and Interests

I don't know about the rest of you but I am sort of tired of people asking me what I like to do. I just received this profile sheet to match me up with some sort of "buddy" for my grad program. And after the first page of standard items like name and academic interests there is a second page. On that page there are two questions with a lot of space for each: Relevant Work Experience (with an option to attach a resume) and Hobbies and Interests (please list memberships, skills, things you enjoy, etc.)

For the Relevant Work Experience I am going to attach my resume. That is easy enough. Although I do not really like my resume. And for the Hobbies and Interests I don't know. As most of you know the only thing I really have in life is hobbies. So many of them. Should I list them? Its sort of overwhelming even for me if I put them on paper. And if I listed them all I think anyone would think it was bs. And what order should I put them in? Or maybe I should list my top 5 favorite things to do:

1. Obvious
2. Therapy
3. Skinny Dipping
4. Fishing
5. Skiing

***This list was put compiled during my solo 3,600 mile trek across america last September.

My friend, Bernadette, has an older brother that went to Tufts in the 80's. Before heading down for Freshman year he (like most of us small, northeastern, liberal art school attendees) had to send in a photo and list two interests and maybe a potential major. Now for some reason Bern's brother did not complete this. Instead her father (who is a funny bastard) did. He sent in a photo of his son, did not write a potential major and listed dancing as his only interest. Apparently, Bern's brother continues to get shit about this from his buddies even today. So funny. (For the record, correct me if I am wrong here, I put down philosophy as a potential major and interests as hiking and people. Yikes.)

I know this is not going to be any part of a grad school facebook but it is still annoying. I also think I am going to have countless conversations with people this fall about sort of boring stuff like what I like to do and what they like to do. Is this ever going to end? I wish the only thing that happened was the sharing of good stories. Maybe thats what friends are for and who wants to share a good story with an acquaintance.

Another story, my friend Jesse, who is super awkward but very good looking and always seems to lack a woman in his life, recently, picked up a girl at the med school library (who is now his girlfriend and they seem great) and asked her "What do you do for fun?" So awkward. I mean how do you answer that question without sounding stupid. "Uhh. Yeah. I like to watch movies and hang out with friends."

I don't know. I think I am going to write: chess (to sound smart), out-of-doors (because I do), and fun (because that is my ultimate goal.) I hope I get matched up with someone cool.

Poverty + Beer + Gambling = Americorps

I thought for a long time that the reason that Americorps volunteers got paid so little was so they could experience what it means to be poor. Most members are privileged enough to take "time off" from competitive adult life and earning a good wage to "do good." Or something like that. And ALL americorps members qualify for food stamps. (Except for kids with trust funds, which is funny and I do actually know someone who didn't do americorps because she wouldn't qualify for food stamps because of a trust fund.) It seems like a logical conclusion to me that the US government would want one aspect of americorps to be the experience of poverty. (Ok. Ok. I know this is impossible because I do have nice, straight teeth and patagonia gear and am educated....)

A friend pointed out that the government isn't trying create a real-life poverty experience for us but wants us to serve our county and also make a sacrifice. Does service = sacrifice? I am not sure. I don't really feel like I am sacrificing anything but that is probably because I have a $10,000 credit card limit.

Anyway. Back to the story. There is no recycling in Lake Co. Cans, newspapers, white office paper, and corrugated cardboard ONLY. No pizza boxes. Until about April I didn't even know where the recycling center was. I have been putting all my recycling since October in my garage. Recently, after having a small party I decided I should return my bottles. I also noticed that some friends had a ton of bottles and offered to redeem those as well. They had a ton. Free money. Thank you Tom McCall.

My past history with bottle returning is short. I have only lived in states that redeem bottles. I remember doing it as a kid and we would split the money and buy candy. There wasn't really much beer or soda in our house growing up so we would get like $3 every 6 months. And onetime I returned bottles with Mindy Williams, whose father loves Heinnekin, in high school and got like $20. And I think one time senior year in college I returned bottles for about $20. But mostly I've just left them on the streets and let bums return them or donate them to the Vinalhaven seniors. And I felt good about it. Donations. And I think one time I returned bottles last summer and it was miserable. And easy to forget.

Anyway. Returning bottles is a really good bad idea. In Lakeview, they have those machines where you cram bottles in and it spits out a ticket and then you go inside and they give you the money. So yesterday I did this after work with two carloads of bottles. I was wearing my Americorps shirt. Being prideful of my county and service and being a steward of the environment. Perfect. What else does a girl need? I felt really good for like 7 minutes. On the machines there are clocks so I was very aware of time passing and not passing. And then I spilt an old, dank, stale beer on my forearm and shirt. And then I was like WTF. Why am I here. What am I doing. And I hope no one sees me. I mean if someone I work with thinks I drank this much beer it is totally embarrassing. And I am spending the time returning these bottles. Am I that hard up. I guess.

Ok fast forward an hour and 14 minutes. I am done. I am hot. I am dirty. I am pissed. And I am poor. Total amount $40.45. I then spend $16 on beer and $4 on two lottery tickets. Kept $20 in my pocket. I was still pissed even with the money and beer. The work was mis and embarrassing and dirty. And I only spent the money on the scratch-off tickets because I am poor and liked the idea of possibly winning $1 million.

And then I scratched the tickets.

And I won $20. Sick. Its amazing to win scratch tickets. I then had 30 beers, $40.45, and a sense of accomplishment. I was also still dirty and ended up sharing 15 beers with the folks who gave me the cans and celebrating by watching Flaming Lips rock videos and loving Oregon. Also, with a 4% increase in my June monthly income I think I will go to dinner and rent a movie. Yes.

At this point I don't know whether to thank or be angry at my Americorps experience about this recent rollercoaster of emotions. If I wasn't pretending to be poor/sacrificing for this county I wouldn't have returned the bottles. I am pretty excited to move to a college town this fall so I can return to business as usual and put my empties on the street for bums. And feel good about it. And not get dirty and pissed.

Success

So I've been thinking a lot about success recently. A combination of my 5th year college reunion and having most of my projects in Lakeview wrapping up.

5th year college reunion was sick. A moment like no other. College with perspective, maybe. I really felt like everyone there was there and able to embrace it. No one was too cool. Maybe one person. But pretty much everyone did it and did it well.

I can't believe that it has been five years since graduating. I guess when I think back to all of the places I've slept, articles I've read, fun I've had, bad times I've had then yeah sure its been five years. Vinalhaven seems like forever ago... I think its more crazy to think that it was 9 years ago that I moved into Clark 111 and met some many people that I hold close to my heart.

Anyway, at Reunion there was a panel of five "successful" classmates. It included a lawyer (a girl who had gone to law school straight out of college), a children's book writer (who family funded the printing of the book on under their own name), a woman who had been a child actor and has continued to be an actress as a grown up, a nyc blogging comedian, and someone else. I forget. I didn't attend. But I was sort of put off by the idea of it. A group convo would have been more appropriate. You know we all sit down and talk about what success is and why we think we have achieved it or whatever. I was (obvi) pissed I wasn't asked to speak on the panel.

It also made me think about what success is to me. I am not really sure. I am headed to graduate school in the fall. That may be part of it. I skied 31 days this year. That may be part of it. I caught two 25 inch rainbow trout last week. I also caught countless brook trout on dry flies (a first.) And that counts too. I think.

Here is wikkipedia's take on it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Success

And those guys (we) don't even have a definition.

And now at work I am writing reports about all of my projects here. And again I am like wtf. Yes things did happen. I started two farmers markets, trained community members to lead programs, taught 3 adult ed classes, taught in the high school.... So I was successful. Should I sit back and smile and have a Cinder Cone. I don't know.

And what makes it more confusing is knowing folks around here and how f-ed they are. Yes there are farmers' markets for folks to sell things but is there life overall is not changing. They are poor, they have kids in Iraq, kids in jail and can't afford bail, meth problems, the price of gasoline for their old cars and pickups is only getting steeper....

I wish success and feeling good was as simple as it was in high school. You made the team. Yes, congratulations. You got an A on a French quiz. Nice, lets have pizza. You were elected to the student council. Great. You got into college early descision. Awesome, your hard work has paid off.

Things seem a bit more complicated now. Or maybe its that now no one really cares. Or maybe I don't let anyone define it for me anymore. Or maybe I have already arrived and am success. And its the norm.

My Neighbor Part II

Last night as I was getting ready for bed I heard a knock on my front door. It was dark and a bit sketchy especially since the night before, my two friends, Clarke and Prescott came by at 11:45. I was dead asleep after having gone to be at 9:30 and heard this banging on the door. I didn't have my phone on and it was so scary. It was worst case scenario for a woman living by herself. Yes, I should have just stayed in bed and pretended I wasn't home but I answered the door to find two dudes in cowboy hats, tight jeans, plaid tucked-in shirts, and boots wasted at my door. Scary. But it was two of my favorite people out here so I let them in and we chatted for a while. Telling me all sorts of secrets.

Anyway, back to Chuck. So I am brushing my teeth and in my jammies and I flick the porch light on and its Chuck. My first thought is oh shit he is wasted and wants to chill. I open the door and he is all smiles with this bizarre sling on. Basically a harness around his chest and one arm is attached. WTF.

So I am like what happen. And smiling Chuck says, I fell off a quad while riding over sagebrush.
What is a quad?
A four wheeler.
Oh. What were you doing partying?
No. Cowboying.
Oh. OK.
Look. (Chuck pulls down his shirt, an undershirt, to reveal a broken bone.)
Gross.

So here I am thinking ok. Neat. Is this dude drunk or what. Does he want to hangout. Is he on painkillers...

And Chuck says, "well the doctor said I might need help and since the old lady is gone I thought I'd ask you. You see I need help to get this off." And then he turned around and showed me the clips in the middle of his back.

I am like ok. I can totally help just come by. And then I tell him I am leaving for 2.5 weeks Tuesday and can't really help.

He smiles and says ok and then leaves.

Ski Season Ends

I spent the last two days skiing at Mt. Bachelor in central Oregon. It was incredible. I was granted two days off work after requesting time off for "Spiritual Renewal." One of the perks of having a born-again Christian as your boss. Total bummer but I have to spend time in the office today and tomorrow to work. Now, I am just a volunteer, but I do actually have work. So much that I can't work (sort of like college except I am not binge drinking) so I choose to online journal instead of working. Classic.

It has been an unreal ski season. 31 days. I've skied VT, CA, and OR. All three states have experienced record snow fall this year. Definitely best thing about climate change. After a 10 year hiatus that included college in southern New England and traveling abroad I am back. This year I think I've come into my own as a tele skier and must admit I am nervous about attending grad school with the closest skiing 80 miles away.

I used to think that skiing was sort of a lame, rich person way to "get into the out of doors." I think this continues to be true but it is so good and peaceful that I rarely think about that any more except when I talk to people who don't ski.

My favorite parts of skiing:

1. It scares the shit out of me. It is one of the few times during my days that I get a huge rush. Standing on the top of a steep, long run and knowing that if I fall I could be done toast. And then just pointing my tips and letting go. And being absolutely in the moment. And yelping because that is the only thing to do. And getting to the end and seeing the wall of snow and sweet line. And knowing that I made it without killing myself. I mean wtf.
2. Being outside. Embracing winter. Unreal landscapes. The quiet peacefulness that only snow and low temperatures can bring.
3. It is a social sport. This year I skied alone a bunch. Sometimes I made new friends sometimes I just smiled and took it all in by myself. And other times I skied with folks I know and love.

The past two day I spent at Mt. Bachelor with an old man (68) I met here at Warner Canyon. Old Man lives in town and is a real treat. He is a child and loves to play. We get along quite well and he invited me up for a few days of skiing with his buddies.

He has this group of people he skies with 4 days a week at Bachelor. They are all 70+. Old Man is the youngest. There is a revolving group of about 15 and they've been skiing for between 45 and 65 years. They have seen it all. And it all change over time. From rope tows to 6 person high speed lifts, real seal skins to synthetics, wool to synthetic to wool, straight long skis to fat shaped... and it goes on and on and on. And they are all out there killing it. Pure inspiration.

Over the past two years I have thought a bunch about skiing when I am 70 because it is free at a bunch of resorts... no way. I want to ski when I am 70 because it will keep me alive and well. Some of these 70+ers were smoking me. Not kidding. I mean fast and beautiful.

So right now as I am beginning to to stop my roaming, I am searching for a group of folks to ski with until we are dead. If any readers know anyone who skis (they can live anywhere really) please send them to me. I need to get this going like ASAP.

Feeling the Love

This week marked the end of a few things here in Lakeview. On Sunday, Warner Canyon, the local ski hill closed for the season. With the exception of three trips out of town I spent every weekend there since returning to Lakeview on January 6. There I met most of my favorite people, I honed my tele skills, lived the dream of ski patrol and got in the majority of my 29 ski days. It was awesome. I also made a number of older friends. Friends who have skied there forever and would take me into the woods or out of bounds for a sweet run. Steep and deep. Steep and deep. And then they would let me go first. Unreal. It made me sad to see it close. As I was sitting in the parking lot on the back of an old Ford surrounded by these older men having a cheap american lager, I was pained to think it would never happen again. Its weird to do something and know I am good at something and just leave it...

I also completed my first grant application. It was for a new well and some other improvements at Warner Canyon. I worked with the ski board. It was amazing to see a group of people with the same passion (skiing) come together with all of their individual skills: drafting plans, excavating, dousing, writing, finageling county commissioners, doing math... I am really beginning to focus on the process of things. A huge departure from my regular goal-oriented self. But it is nice and I feel like I am really living each day/moment. So I guess right now I am keeping my fingers crossed for the 47k.

This week was also marked the end of two six week small business classes I've been teaching. (I know. I know.) Every Monday and Tuesday I have spent with adult learners reviewing business basics: budgeting, pricing the product, quality standards, and marketing. I've gotten to know 15 folks from around the county. It is crazy to hear their life stories. A few details:

• 11 kids, going for 12 because 13 is an unlucky number for the family, wanted 3 but had to have more because #3 would be a terrible spoiled child
  
• one son is on his 4th tour in Iraq
• taking the class to help with the ranch that has been in the family for 4 generations
• 95 year old weaver, been retired from Boeing for 31 years
• a woman had four kids and married a man with 3, their two oldest ended up having twins

The end was also suprisingly sad. Although they do want to have reunion bbqs this summer. It was so nice to have the opportunity to meet folks and hear about lives I couldn't even imagine existed. I mean you can't make this shit up.

What I actually do

Here is a link to the description of my job, my community, my life. And its pretty funny.

http://rare.uoregon.edu/downloads/pdf/year15_01.pdf

Luckiest Person I Know

I used to always say I was the luckiest person I knew. Think Wes, most trips to Montreal, chasing the thief in in Pamplona, working on the F/V Alexander Gabriel, extended trips in the Southern Hemisphere, fully funded road trips... (I actually am sort of spacing here maybe some readers can remind me.) For the longest time I really was lucky. And then I sort of lost it.

But. I am back. This week I was accepted to grad school which was surprisingly amazing. Yes, people had told me don't worry you will get in but, seriously, I had my doubts. It is an incredible feeling to get in, I mean I am only getting a degree in general studies, I can't imagine what it feels like to be accepted to law, medical, or phd school. Unreal.

But that is not really why I am lucky. I am lucky because my office is across the hall from Fish and Wildlife.

Now, most of convos have been with Fos (so funny when grown men continue to use teenage nicknames throughout life) a middle aged Lakeview lifer, he has a few kids, curses like a sailor, and a huge handlebar/walrus mustache. He was the one who told me this fall I didn't need a concealed weapons permit to enjoy the backcountry in Oregon. He told me all about cougars: they are ambush predators (most likely I won't see them until its too late), they scratch trees, each male has a 100 mile radius of land, and that they hunt for a specific search image (spine parallel to the ground, humans are perpendicular) and only really worry about them if I am biking. He also told me how to get out of a bad situation: look the cougar in the eye, make myself large with hiking poles, don't bend over to get my camera out of my backpack, and back away slowly. He also advised that if I was attacked to "fight like hell." He also showed me a dead cougar a few weeks ago in some rancher's pick-up. It was messing with the guy's cows. The cougar was huge.

Its also trapping season, so over the past few weeks I've seen the pelts of countless bobcats. Which I can tell you are a lot less scary then cougars. Each person can trap up to 5 bobcats. And these people sell them to European designers for upwards of $500 each. I asked one of these dudes who would win a fight a bobcat or a cougar and he just looked at me like I was crazy.

And fast forward to today. My new fishing buddy, George Collins (68 retired), called me about fishing. So I went across the hall and introduced myself to the Fish Specialist, Sharon, and asked about good fishing these days. She was so stoked just to talk to a woman that she gave directions to hot spring feed rivers where the fish are huge and biting. I guess they don't give out too much info like that... And a map and a website where I can buy flies for 55 cents. Dream. So basically, I can take breaks from work, talk fishing and hopefully (fingers crossed) catch big ones in my leisure time.

This all makes me very happy.

My dream...

http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com/

Hill-Dog

Although I am 100% for Mr. Obama...

This quote from HRC last night really hit home:

“The hits I’ve taken in life are nothing compared to what goes on every single day in the lives of people across our country,” she said. “And I resolved at a very young age that I’d been blessed, and that I was called by my faith and by my upbringing to do what I could to give others the same opportunities and blessings that I took for granted.”

My Neighbor

I live in a duplex, right in the middle of town. The person on the other side of the house is woman named Sue. She is some sort of nurse but holds no degree, she grew up in town, she is middle aged, smokes, and is very nice. I am pretty sure she is married to a man named Chuck. Sue used to invite me to go trolling for men at the local bar but then Chuck got out of prison so Sue has been laying low.

Chuck is an older cowboy. People tell me he used to own a huge ranch and have a bunch of cattle but he lost it in the 80's. My guess is that he drank it and gambled it away. He is missing a front tooth and chews tobacco and does not spit anything out. He is very polite. He shoveled my walk a bunch of times, he showed me how to fix the power when its overloaded, and always says hello and attempts to engage in small talk. I probably push his limits on this but whatever.

And my house only has one key. My landlord tried to make a copy but the key was so old they didn't have a mold. And the door is really old too so they can't just replace the handle. And the door automatically locks when I shut it. So I have one key. And I have locked myself out a few times. To get back into my house I have to knock on Sue + Chuck's door have them lead me through their house to the basement, turn the lights on, and then wait till I yell, "OK. I'm in." It is pretty embarrassing and has happened maybe 6 times since moving in in October.

Since Chuck doesn't work, or as he says, "Tries not to work." It works out. But I do have slight panic attacks that maybe they could go in their if they wanted. Whatever. I don't think they would and I think they would be unimpressed by my gear. They seem more into TV.

Ok. So the most recent case of me needing to go into my house through the basement was Saturday. I hadn't seen Sue around so I had two friends wait outside. It was just Chuck. He let me in, the house smelled like dog piss, and he sort of chuckled and said it was no big deal. I was pretty uncomfortable and said, "At least you're not scary."

Last night I was heading home around 8:15 from a different neighbor's house. And in front of my house was a drunk man, peeing. Totally gross. At first I thought it was Chuck. But then he introduced himself as Ron and told me about the cowboy dinner he had just had with Chuck. Ahhh. Ron is also missing a front tooth. Or maybe two. And then he invited me in for a drink. I, obviously, declined and went into my house. He then sort of followed me and was excited that I was Chuck's neighbor.

I was in my house taking my shoes off, getting ready to watch The Puffy Chair, when I hear a banging on the door. It was Ron. And he asked again if I wanted a drink and Chuck was there too, looking for Ron. I accepted and said, "Just one."

Highlights of my 1.5 hour convo with the two, washed up, toothless, middle aged cowboys:

• being offered Franzia Merlot (pronounced merle-lot)
• being offered a vodka + collins mix
• being offered a sip of Chuck's vodka + collins mix
• hearing that Chuck and Sue were getting divorced
• being told to take the maytag because g-dammit Chuck was not going to move it again
• being told that Chuck liked it when I locked myself out
• being told to just come in the side door if no one was home, the door is always unlocked
• being told that Chuck didn't know what I meant when I said he wasn't scary. Then he made a "scary" face and suddenly it was Halloween.
  
• being told stories about Chuck's claustrophobia
• impressing both cowboys by telling them I could sleep a full night in a zipped up mummy sleeping bag
• getting accused of being a tree-hugger
• being told that Chuck pays for the water heater (his electric bill is double mine)
• being told that Chuck hears my boots in the morning and my guitar picking and singing in the evenings. (I apologized and promised to be quieter and he said, "No, thats your house and your business.)
• Watching both men put in multiple lippers and not spit
  
• after finishing my merle-lot getting a full glass to take home

So yeah. I got home and then shoved my dryer in front of that basement door. Now I am amused. last night I was definitely uncomfortable.

Warner Canyon Photos

Here are some photos of Warner Canyon. The local ski hill. It is about 10 minutes from Lakeview and where I've been spending my weekends. These pictures are in no way spectacular but sort of give you an idea of what I see on daily basis. And sometimes off the back of the mountain you can see California's sweet jewel, Mt. Shasta. I also do ski patrol. Sick.

Small Town

Last night was Valentine's Day and I decided to go out. My favorite shop in town (the local butcher) was having a wine tasting from 2-6. It was wonderful, the wine was flowing, I didn't have to fake any wine discussions (I do not have a mature pallet and cannot pick out smokey, fruity, musky....), there was beer, and cheese, and being a butcher shop perfectly prepared meat. I also know most of the folks who work there because its where I spend about 35% of my monthly food stamps. By the end of the night one of the counter ladies was telling me about how she got in a bar fight on New Year's and was locked up in the county jail. yikes.

Each Valentine's Day the local movie theater prints out a full seating of tickets and gives them to the local shops in town to give away. This is supposed to increase traffic in the local shops. It is great because most folks in Lakeview go to a neighboring town 2+ hours away to resupply at Wal-mart or Costco every 4-6 weeks. It really gives everyone a chance to shop local and chat with folks they may not usually chat with. Also everyone loves freebies. The stores that give away the movie tickets also donate gifts for a raffle following the movie. And the movie is promoted as a "Sweetheart Movie."

This year the movie was P.S. I Love You. Being a huge fan of Ro-Cos (romantic comedies) I loved it. I had already seen it when I was in Vermont but it was pretty good and the Irishmen are damn hot... I loved knowing how miserable all the loggers and cowboys in tow were. It is truly a chick flick.

I headed to this movie after the wine tasting. The only other time I had seen so many people gathered in one place in Lakeview was during a football playoff game in November. It was chaos. No one knew what to do. Well maybe I didn't know what to do. Because it was free there were kids, high schoolers, parents on dates, and old folks- a total mix of ages and a true community gathering. The showing went well, the crowd laughed at most of the right places and some of the wrong (sex scenes.)

After the show was the raffle. An older gentleman who looked like a cowboy and probably owned the place went on stage to call out the winners. The prizes ranged from a $10 gift certificate from the local saloon to $30 to radio shack and a gift basket from the butchers. So, the town has a population of 2500. That is less then Wesleyan student body (2700) and more then Vinalhaven in the off-season (1400.) And it seemed that this man and his two assistants did not know a single person they pulled out of the box. I mean I am not sure if they all couldn't read or something but they had no idea who the people were until they came down front. It made me realize that I assumed everyone knows each other here. And I just can't get my head around the idea that this older gentleman, owner of the only movie theater in town, really had no idea who most of these people were.

Faking It

One of the greatest lessons I learned while playing collegiate lacrosse for Holly Gutielus was that if you do not have confidence then fake it. If all of your preparation could not give you the confidence you need- fake it. No one will know.

I have taken this advice to most of my pursuits and it has always taken me the distance. I am blessed with a genuine sense of confidence and so when I fake it it is perceived as natural. In my current economic development work I am continually faking it. I am a critical thinker and can figure out most things but, common, the only ECON class I ever took was a 300-level one that I had to withdraw from.

I mean today I got online banking for the first time. I have been just sort of guessing with my check book. The lady who works next door asked, "And you are teaching high school economics once a week?" Yeah. I guess. So I sort of just use my common sense and confidence and when I do all of these tasks that make up my job. Like facilitating, teaching marketing skills, writing about why buying local is important... And it seems to work although sometimes I do get nervous.

I've been noticing recently that almost all of my friends are in this same boat where they feel like they are faking it. I do economic development in a rural area where stakes are not high. But my friends who are faking it are kids in law, medical, and phd school or have decent jobs. Just this morning I was talking to my freshman year roommate who's sister had just graduated from the mfa program at Columbia. Now she is a writer. That is her occupation. This kid (who is 29) feels like she has to fake being a writer. What. So here we all are, educated, future leaders in our great county and we are faking it. How can that be?

I think when people finally stop feeling like they are faking it, it means they have finally grown up. Maybe being an adult is feeling like you have enough skills and enough confidence in them that all of your work feels true. This sort of falls into line with the lameness of adulthood. (Lameness= being fiscally responsible, putting fun last, thinking constantly of the future...) In the teenage sense. Teenagers perceive adults as all-knowing and sure. But once out of the teen, college, and early post-college years you see that this is sort of bullshit. Adults, really, have no idea what is going on. (Ok. Maybe this is coming from me because I my family recently died. I don't know.)

Non-profit Sector or West Coast

I work at an office and receive many work related emails each day. And since I've moved out here I've noticed that there is over use of explanation points, smiley faces, and other sort of teen typing moves. I have a very difficult time taking any of these emails seriously. People just didn't use these sort of expressions when I worked at Carroll & Scribner PC.

Below is an email I received from a woman who administers a $3 million grant in five targets around the state of Oregon. Are you kidding?

Good Morning Target Area Leads-

TOMORROW (Wednesday, January 23) is the first CORE Conference call of 2008!!! It is scheduled for our regular time of 1pm- 3pm. Attached are the minutes from the last conference call in December. J Below you will find the conference call agenda and the call in information.

Please contact Katie at the RDI office if you have any questions. J Looking forward to talking to you tomorrow!

**Sorry this is not as dramatic as it was in my inbox. For every random J that is a smiley face.

Killing + Kindness

The other day I was at my favorite shop in town- Lakeview Lockers. It is a butcher shop that allows you to buy up to a full steer at a time. It also sells gourmet cheeses from around Oregon and micro brews and baked goods from a local baker. And it accepts food stamps so I love to shop there. I was there having a discussion with the co-owner Kelly about the Saturday Market I am working to revitalize here in town. Now, we were chatting in the back of the store. It was warm and very simple and clean. But, to get there we had to walk through the bloody butchering section. Now, I am perfectly comfortable with the blood and guts. After seven long years as a vegetarian, I have embraced all meat (with the exception of some of the random parts that I ate while in Peru) and the process from corral to table.

I was about 30 minutes into the Farmers' Market discussion when in walk three butchers, covered in blood and various cow/chicken/pig/lamb parts. The three butchers had found a rogue parakeet outside the shop and wanted to save it. It was amazing, here these professional killers (who kill huge bovines) were trying to save a small, light blue, useless bird from the 24 degree weather.


This incident reminded me of one day out to haul. It was my first season working on a lobster boat and I didn't know the two guys I was working with that well. Actually, I didn't know them at all and I was scared of them. And I never talked and I vomited. A lot. Anyway, one day we were in the middle of the ocean, it sort of always seemed like that, on this particular day visibility was very low and it was cold. It was a standard day for a lobster boat: lots of fresh herring and bait and killing of crabs and various sea life as it came aboard our vessel. And I noticed both the guys I was working with were sort of giggling in the cabin of the boat and work was slowing down. So, even though I was scared to talk I walked into the cabin to see what was going on.

I was like guys whats going on. Then they turned around a bit startled and said they would tell me if I didn't tell anyone. Ahh. Ok. And then they showed me this tiny, little bird nestled up next to one of the heating vents. It was lost at sea and had flown near the boat and they wanted to warm it up and release it back on the island. It was the only moment of my season with those guys that I ever saw any compassion. And even more amazing because there is so much death and destruction on lobster boats I thought for sure they would try to use it as bait.

Let It Snow

I arrived safely in Lakeview after a wonderful holiday in the Northeast. Since I've been back it has not stopped snowing. I think snow will be my salvation during this long, cold, lonely winter in the Oregon Outback. Although I have permission to ski on Wednesday mornings the ski hill is not open. It is only open on the weekends. Bummer.

There is no way for me to check the weather here. I looked at weather.com and they say there is light snow. That is not true. I do not trust those bastards. I just found npr on my radio and will now listen to that for information but it is based out of Portland and any sort of report on this part of the state I would have to question its validity. What I am saying is that all news outlets have no idea what happens here. I will only know what happens by going outside and evaluating the situation myself. I am very comfortable with this. I love seasons. I love winter.

All of this only encourages me to continue reading the NY Times and not the Oregonian. I am in a bizarre position here, no local news, and only news from the East Coast. I am not really sure what this means other then when I bring up things to discuss with Ronne Lindsay she has no idea what I am talking about for example the assassination of Bhutto or McDonalds hiring barristas.

I am excited to head home after work to shovel my driveway (again), drink some hot coco, and read the New Yorker.

New Year's Resolutions 2k8

Dear God, its me, Erin Margaret,

Every year at this time (as you know), I take a moment to write down a few tasks and goals for the new year.  This year is 2008.  Five years out of college, about three months into a commitment (my first lease), maintaining my own home...

Here goes, divided into seasons, some things on list transcend seasons, so I will place them where I feel is the most appropriate place.

WINTER

• ski 30 days while continually pushing limits
• apply to grad school
• get accepted to grad school
• learn solja boy dance, thats right god, solja
• doing dishes the day I dirty them
• bake whole wheat bread
• learn to roast a chicken

SPRING

• attend a branding
• cut balls off young male bovine + eat
• catch a 20 inch rainbow trout
• ride horse and do ranch work simultaneously
• run up Camels' Hump 
• attend my 5th year college reunion
• work on not making small piles all over my house
• ride cowboy

SUMMER

• get tan
• enter my first fly fishing tournament
• cook lots of steak perfectly
• summit Oregon peaks higher then 10,000 feet
• changing my sheets every week
• go to the last great Communist Society and see what the deal is
• go to Mantana

FALL

• begin grad school
• catch steelhead
• notice when I need to sweep the floor
• live with other people
• vote for Obama

All of these and work on accepting things: other people, their choices, my imperfections.... continuing to learn the guitar as the newest member of the Oregon Ole Time Fiddlers Association.  And, as always, be swept off my feet my an Irishman.