:120121: Sometimes, a stint in the exercise yard is pleasant. There was a moment, this fall, when the figurative planets aligned. The end of October was going to bring with it the much anticipated Halloween celebration. Halloween always means much planning, preparation, and time. Time is something we have precious little of.

The biggest time sucker is, of course, the Haunted House. In order to make it deliciously creepy, we needed English Ivy and dried leaves aplenty. But fall happens very quickly. By fall, I mean the actual "fall"—that day, once a year, when all the leaves decide to relinquish their grasp on the trees. It seems as though one day there are only one or two leaves on the ground, and the next day there are only one or two leaves on the trees.

So, in this planet-aligning fall leaf timing scenario, here's what happened: I realized, all of a sudden, that today was Fall; all the leaves had hit the ground. They were also, miraculously, still dry. If you are familiar with the Pacific Northwest in fall (spring, summer, winter), you know that a dry day when you need a dry day is far from a guarantee (outdoor weddings with umbrellas can be charming). In fact, on this particular fall day, it was sunny. So there were all the leaves, just sitting there, still dry and crunchy and crinkly, and perfect for the haunted house still 3 weeks away.

Ordinarily, this would cause me to pause just long enough to think to myself, "we should really collect some of those leaves while they're still dry," before rushing off to my next task. But on this particular sunny-dry-fall day, I had an entire half hour free. This is unheard-of. Free time is not a thing that happens.

I also realized there were some of our high school volunteers nearby, on "homework time." I knew that not all of them would be taking advantage of that time for its intended purpose, but these high school students are far from lazy. Inspiring Our Next Generation, these Irrationally Benevolent individuals are an Outstanding Volunteer Group. These folks are up for doing anything that benefits the program they love. We enjoy being brutally honest with them when requesting help for something unpleasant: "Who wants to help me carry something heavy and awkward uphill through some mud?" There are always more volunteers up for the task than the task requires.

Put all this together: Dry Fall Leaves. Sunny Day. Half Hour Free. Several Enthusiastic Helpers.

In 20 minutes, we had 10 huge garbage bags full of leaves for haunted house ambiance, stored under a building until they would be needed in three weeks.

I tried editing this photograph, because it has such interesting colors, but I wasn't able to do anything to it that I liked better than the original, straight out of the camera. Love that Acer.

:110528: I escaped, for a few weeks. I didn't go very far, but everything is different there. It is physically, emotionally, and intellectually demanding, but my soul is at peace.

This time more than any other, I experienced pleasant week after pleasant week, with my peers consistently giving me and each other exactly what was needed at precisely the correct time.

And I laughed. Harder and longer than I have in a while. Every day.

I am exhausted; I am rejuvenated.

:110311: Even if I'm a good swimmer, my captors still make me follow all boat safety protocols.

I spent nine months teaching (among other things) a Lake Study class to students from the Chicago area. Part of the class involved taking the students out on this pontoon boat, tooling around the lake for a bit, and doing some water quality tests through the trap door in the boat's floor.

Some students resisted the need for a personal flotation device, citing the hundreds of times they'd gone boating with their families when they weren't forced to wear one. My favorite incident featured the opposite reaction.

These boats were a bit finicky, and on this particular day, there was a crystal clear blue sky. The sun was shining, but it wasn't hot; it was a warm pleasant temperature. It seemed as though everyone in the area were out on the lake with their boats. I started up the pontoon boat with no problems, and handed off a radio to one of the employees scheduled to be on the dock that day, in case of emergencies.

As we pulled away from the dock a bit, I watched as the guy with my radio walked into the boat house and left the radio inside. He hadn't understood that I wanted him to carry it with him until we got back 45 minutes later. Oh well, we were out of earshot now.

In the middle of the lake, I cut the engine and we did our water tests. When I went to start the engine back up again, it wouldn't start. No problem, we had been trained for this. I tried everything. One of the parts of the engine that's supposed to, you know, move just wouldn't budge. It was completely stuck. I had no tools. 

But, here's the thing: worst case scenario is we sit on a boat in the middle of a huge gorgeous lake with a pleasantly warm sun beating down on us, and in an hour or so someone will realize we haven't come back yet and come get us. That was the absolute worst possible thing that could happen to us at that moment.

And yet, the students took this opportunity to freak out. They screamed at the top of their lungs repeatedly, "We're gonna die!" There was nothing I could do to console them. They insisted on screaming and waving their arms frantically at every boat that came marginally near us, hoping to be rescued from their predicament of having been stuck on a boat for 15 minutes. Finally, another boat came close enough to hear and towed us to shore.

I was really looking forward to my mini-vacation in the middle of the lake. Sadly, we made it back to the dock before anyone had noticed we were late. I hope those students were happy that they made it to their next class on time with no legitimate excuse to be late for it...

:110305: My captors asked for a photograph taken with actual film. I dug deep into the archives for this one, taken with a 35mm film point and shoot, and a broken one at that.

I didn't know it when I took this shot, or the rest of that roll, that there was something wrong with the camera. I think there was a slowly increasing light leak somewhere. This was one of the first shots on the roll, and subsequent shots included ever-increasing strangely over-exposed shapes on the final prints.

This one escaped with only a mildly hazy over-exposed feel to it. I like it because it gives the shot a dream-like quality (matching my memory of the place) that I probably couldn't have done on purpose if I tried. This is a completely un-edited shot, and you can see dust specks from when it was scanned who knows how long ago, and a scratch on the print.

I spent 9 summers on this lake, and this image certainly brings back memories. I can hear in my mind the sounds of paddles gently tapping and scraping the sides of those plastic kayaks as kids tooled around in them exploring the lake. I can remember where every large rock is in that swimming area, and exactly where the deepest and shallowest parts are. I can smell those Ponderosa Pines, and I can feel the texture of the "grass" (not really grass, but it served the same purpose) in the meadow on my fingertips. The flavor of the juice we always requested whenever we cooked meals over an open fire is unlike any other, and the image of the stars we would gaze at as we fell asleep each night, framed by the starburst-shaped clusters of pine needles sticks with me to this very day.

I could go on, nearly indefinitely, but these are my memories, and probably not as interesting to you as your own. Leave a comment and tell me about a time in your past when you can remember with all five of your senses, with your whole being, every detail of an experience. What was your favorite part (if you can choose)? Which tiny detail had you forgotten about completely, but through the process of remembering the whole picture, came back to you as clearly as though you were there yesterday?

:110302: My captors wanted me to choose a favorite tree. I love trees. All of them. It took me many years to decide on a favorite tree, and even still I find myself questioning my resolve. I frequently become re-enamored with Douglas-firs, and what's not to love about a nice, stately Coast Redwood...

And yet, when I get close enough to a Madrone to touch it, I remember that the Arbutus menziesii is my power tree. Something about that cool, smooth green bark, with the papery russet-colored peelings reminds me that I love this planet which can spawn such beautiful things.

I was, at first, attracted by the peeling bark. It's difficult not to grab one of those curls and just give it a tug, or to rub one's hand over a stretch of bark and remove all of the loose bits.

This nearly irresistible temptation is part of the power of the tree. Anyone can peel the bark off. Not peeling the bark off allows for a whole new understanding. I can stand near a Madrone, crunch the formerly waxy fallen leaves beneath my feet, lean in close to smell the woody trunk, and find a green peely-bark-free spot to rest my palm. The longer I remain in silence, without disturbing a single irresistible curl of bark, the more the tree becomes my fortress of solitude: a source of power and knowledge, a beacon to draw me away from the hum-drum life of everyday humans, an emblem of all I have yet to learn.

:060123: My captors just offered me a job. With benefits. I had no problem turning them down. Even with debt staring me in the face, and the prospect of paid vacations and inexpensive dentistry, I know where my priorities lie. My co-workers are nice people, and I probably wouldn't even have to interview, but sheesh... it's basically glorified data entry. This is kinda what the conversation sounded like:

Julie - "Do you want to do accounts payable for good?"
Me - "November through March?"
Julie - "No, all year."
Renée - "She's offering you a job."
Me - "My other job pays me more, I get to be outside, they feed me..."
Julie - "We'll pay you more. We'll give you benefits."
Renée - "Vacations, you can take vacations!"
Me - "I like to be outside."
Renée - "We can put your desk near the door, that's almost like outside."
Me - "It's not the same."
Renée - "You could go outside whenever you wanted."
Me - "That's a parking lot. I like having a job that requires me to hike 4 hours a day."
Renée - "We could get a treadmill."
Me - "It's not the exercise, it's the forest."
Julie - "We could take turns walking her."
Renée - "Whose turn is it to walk Lafcadio?"

They didn't really get it. It's not just the being outside, it's working for a company that doesn't do anything. It's retail. They don't help people grow, they don't conserve the planet, they aren't even for any sort of political cause. They just sell things. I might be able to justify a boring office job consisting of mundane tasks if I at least believed in what the company was doing with my services.

Staring at a spreadsheet, with no end in sight, for a retail store, wouldn't be worth all the benefits in the world. Not a bad temp job, though. Very temp. I did it for about 3 hours today. That should hold me for a while. Too bad those 3 hours didn't come with more pay and an eye exam.