Midnight at the Prairie

sho' nuff

2011-03-28T18:22:00.006-04:00

This lapse in posting must happen to all...some of my favorite bloggers are sadly sporadic, and now I am among them. Every time I had the urge it was still all about death of some kind, and I began to sound obsessed. In the future, I may just have to surrender to sounding that way.

Today, however, marks yet another low for the south, as racism is alive and well among at least two residents of Albany, GA. This story will reflect badly on me, as I was not quick-witted enough to figure out an appropriate (as in will I get fired for this) retort, and ashamedly let the man's words go unchallenged with anything more than a stricken facial expression. They were camping, and wanted to travel a long bike trail the next day. I was happily chatting, answering many questions, providing directions & maps. They had a sweet small dog with white fluffy fur, so I asked what they did with him while biking. "Oh, he comes along with us," the man replied. "We have one of those little trailers people use for children, and he loves it."

Though I always found that debatable, the dog looked well cared for, and they even assured me that they kept a leash fastened in case a squirrel caught his eye. They were about to drive on, and the man offered even more reassurance: "Yeah, he just sits back there in the sun like a big nigger."

I don't have to explain the impact of this statement, do I? I had about 10 seconds to think of a reply that, as I mentioned above, would not get me fired, and I could not. I do believe I just stared and took a step back into the safety of the ranger station. They both thanked me profusely, rolled up windows and went with the wind before I could quote Rhett Butler or Elvis or Stokely Carmichael. I wasn't concerned about speaking my mind (I seldom am) but this required a minute or two of diplomatic finger-wagging, and my time was up.

Crap, ya'll. Hey, I'm not dense enough to believe that racism is not a major, major, major problem in this country---what disturbed me was their assumption that our mutual whiteness meant I would share their bigotry. And my inability to challenge them just re-enforced that belief.

I flashed on the prior week, every day hot & sunny, watching a crew of black men working to widen a county road. They endured the dust, dirt and diesel for hours and hours, looking way too much like a 1950s prison road gang, despite the trucks that said otherwise. When I was close enough to hear or speak, they talked mostly with each other---the young ones about dates later in the evening, the older ones about the great food they brought for lunch---but without exception, they were polite, professional and kind to each other and to me.

'nuff said.

out of the loop

2010-03-08T12:03:00.002-05:00

The connection I have with the prairie is personal. It doesn't really matter that I do not often get to do "ranger" work, as even the scut work takes me outside, independently chugging around in the truck or walking from place to place. I love it.

Insert long ridiculous story here, and poof, my job duties are at least temporarily reduced to counting money in a back room all morning. (I already do a 2nd shift later in the afternoon inside Ranger Station...meet & greet & taking fees.) Though I and others have proposed many viable alternate solutions, it remains so for the time being, and has given me serious pause about working there.

It hit home when I came in extremely early last Sunday to clean at least a couple of the restrooms/picnic areas in anticipation of a special event that day. Many agencies, Park Svc, Forestry Svc, etc. cooperated to hold a "Fire Fest" during Fire Awareness Week with the aim of educating people about wild and prescribed fire---an excellent idea which will happily turn into an annual event. To say that I wanted the prairie to look its best was an understatement, as I had not been allowed to do my usual beautification for several weekends.

It was dark driving in, but when I left the one area, I was astonished to see the evidence of a small prescribed burn along the road. The dawn dawned on something I hadn't seen because I had been cooped up in a room, and for a moment, aka day or two, I no longer felt like a park employee. Silly, as there are other "office" people, and I DO an office job at my other park...but I suddenly felt out of the loop. The team had burned "my" park and I didn't even know. Well, pretty much the entire event was planned without most of us being in the info loop, but at least the Rangers all had specific assignments related to the prep. It was as if someone stole into my apartment and moved the furniture or painted my walls a different color.

Not to diminish the success of this event---Smokey Bear even came, for Pete's sake---but I didn't get to see him, nor any of it, having once again been trapped in said room, endlessly (okay, it just seemed endless) counting money. How to change this?.....should I hope for fewer people to visit our trails, thus possibly giving me a precious hour with broom, johnny mop, or covered in ashes? Shall I wish for blazing hot weather and mosquitoes? Maybe. I have already pestered my managers to their limits, and I cannot afford to do these tasks for free. (Actually, by state regulation, I am prohibited from doing it for free, and may only volunteer for tasks that do not fall under my job description. And there is nothing at the park that does NOT fall under my job description.) And, of course, I cannot afford to quit. But if 4 walls is all it becomes, I can get paid much more elsewhere for that.

Just when you thought it was safe....

2009-10-05T15:33:00.006-04:00

Not sure I was astounded, but was highly disturbed by two separate incidents at work this past weekend.

As I was finishing cleaning the visitor center, one of our volunteers--a few years my senior, but not extravagantly so--lowered her voice, speaking under the protective cover of her hand. "If you go downtown today, be sure to not wear red." Huh? My quizzical look said it all, so she continued. "The gays....they are having that parade today, and they have all agreed to wear red."

Thankfully I did not skip a beat. "Oh, I didn't know it was today---I've often walked in the parade before I started working weekends." She knew I was not gay, as we had had many conversations about sex & boyfriends, and she was quick to add that she didn't do that simply because she didn't like "getting hit on," I suppose assuaging herself of any bigotry at that point.

I responded that getting hit on didn't happen much, but when and if it did, I would take it with the same compliment (or non-compliment) that I took anyone's attention with.

My disturbed state was furthered the next afternoon, when returning to work for my second shift. Two rangers and myself, all working, all in uniform, when one says, "go look at the door to the back room---there's a cartoon I think you'll like." Obviously, he didn't know me very well, as the "cartoon" was a photo of our asst. park manager and one of our ranger's backs---both very "manly" appearing men standing just millimeters apart, up on a wall, looking down into a corral area, hands so near they could have been touching. He had written a "brokeback mountain" type caption across it and taped it to the door.

I didn't bother flying off the handle, but simply came back into the front office and stated that it was not funny, and that he could either take it down or I would. It's just too boring to repeat all that was said (including his saying that his sister was gay!!----what a wonderful time she must have had with such a sensitive brother.) His supposition that it was funny BECAUSE it was two of our most burly guys just made me sigh and point out that he was still saying that it would be hilarious if they WERE gay.

Of all the things to be concerned about in today's world...how sick that this is still on anyone's list.

And wouldn't the park service be thrilled to see how "well" their mandatory diversity training works? Oh, wait---they don't care if it works, only that they satisfied the letter of the law and avoid discrimination legal suits.

there otter be a law

2009-10-05T15:09:00.003-04:00

It;s too much to ask---that these sleek wonders somehow "learn" not to cross a highway.

For me, it's never been too much to ask, even back in the day of the inception of Highway 441, and more so I-75, that consideration be given to routing above, around, over known and possible animal crossings and corridors. Slightly raised bridges or underground tunnels every so often should have been a basic requirement of road building everywhere, saving countless animals and people.

I'm told that otters don't go far afield unless courting, and these two were together, running home to play and make babies when so brutally hit. No one ever calls anyone unless the human or car is injured----a great sadness, as some animals can survive if given treatment---and they are left to be found by saddened park staff.

My own world has begun to shrink in some ways when I avoid night driving, but begins to grow in more depth when I know it means one less deathly automobile on the dark roads.

whole = less than its parts

2009-07-07T02:27:00.007-04:00

not final edit...gotta bookmark it near July 4

Okay, let's just get the obvious over with: I am an American, I don't want to live anywhere else, and though it's debatable on some scores, we remain the country with the most individual "freedoms." That said, our history, with a few exceptions, is no "prouder" than anyone else's, and has been driven by greed, power, and brutality more than ethics--again, as have all nations'. We lucked out with our mutt mix and astounding natural resources, and despite ourselves this has continued to be a formula for a type of success.........so far.

As I mentioned before, I grew up in a household that was not steeped in the culture, but it speaks for itself that we were taught to call the Civil War the War Between the States. I am no longer of that persuasion, probably never was, but simply respected my parents enough to not be maniacal about challenging them. At least until I was 17.

What this sort of upbringing did accomplish, however, was to leave me with a feeling of isolation from the rest of the country. It was an easy jump to collegiate "anti-American" in the seventies, and an even easier jump to anti-corporate-America now.

I am crazy about the parts of this country, but I do not love the "whole" via patriotism. Though most would be quick to point out that I would not have that choice in many countries, I can say that patriotism would be an alien concept to me in any location. But the U.S. is the place where I am a citizen, with all the concurrent rights & responsibilities---it is neither the template for nor the manifestation of my personal morality. Hmm, though a bit more of the latter wouldn't be a bad thing.

We are not the moral giants we claim to be, and we revise, rewrite, or simply delete historical facts that we don't like, as if our national persona is so weak it cannot survive the light of day. We ought to be stronger than that. We ought to be able to look at what we've done wrong and admit that we have put criminals into our highest offices and vow to never do so again---but we don't.

more to follow....

Like it or not, these are all of my flags.

p.s. and so not fair co-opting the bald eagle into a political stance. At least it can claim to mate for life, raise it's offspring responsibly, and kill only what it needs to survive.

Dixie: Old Times there are not forgotten.

2009-04-24T00:56:00.009-04:00

I'm not here to give a history lesson, though most of this nation could use one.

Three days a week, I drive nine miles beyond my beloved prairie to the "other" half of my job; a lush, beautiful road with mysterious creeks and even more mysterious people. Around the last bend is a normal-looking house with a flagpole impossible to miss. American flag on top, Confederate flag waving in the wind underneath.

Let me explain that though my political stance is way-left-of-progressive-liberal now, I was born in the south, and grew up under kind, honest, but politically conservative parents. (In their defense if they need one, a Barry Goldwaterian, Bill Buckley kind, not a Dubya kind.) "Respect" for the Confederate flag was a given as a child, and I remember even as late as high school, there was a Confederate flag painted upon the sidewalk, and everyone dutifully walked the edges, careful not to step upon it. Of course, in my graduating year, we may have had 3-5 black students. All very low key and unnoticeable except for the great football player.

Then things changed as they damn well should have. It was high time we faced the inequities of our own history, and lay to rest its symbols. Now it seems as if those college years were rarefied air, and I often see the totally irritating phrase "heritage, not hate." You can be as eloquent as you want to be in describing slavery, even thinking it was not hateful at all...but you would be wrong. It was hateful and barbarous and unacceptable no matter what era or what nation or why. Is it unfortunate that the Confederate flag has become synonymous with racism? How could it not? It was a symbol for people who were not willing to see their history change.

It doesn't make every southerner or dead confederate or white man evil, as we all have had our governments act outside of our control. What it does do is give the South a second chance to face some of the very same problems and deal with them differently. A start would be for this supposed citizen of a united states to take down that symbol of a lost and unjust cause, and to let go of an anger that only inspires an equal but opposing anger.

am I bugging you yet?

2009-04-20T09:43:00.006-04:00

It's still BUG WEEK...

Teenager discards broken eyeshadow container without a second thought at prairie picnic area, where I find the next morning the tiniest of tiny winged things, stuck in the sticky stuff, feet up. It's so very little and I worry while I shakily put a thin reed next to his legs. He grasps but cannot pull out of the goo. Long story short, I did succeed and put him on a clean leaf, but who knows if he will survive with eyeshadow still on his wings? A possible death simply because a stupid girl cannot walk ten steps to the garbage pail.

Getting in my car one morning, something flutters in a diagonal line in front of my face---a captive mosquito or moth? No, it's The Fantastic Flying Green Spider! Not quite sure how she does it, but there she was, as delicate as a butterfly, as nimble and accurate as a trapeze artist, fluttering past my ear and landing upon my steering wheel. What a delight. I spoke to her, saying she must be still, then climb upon my offered piece of blue paper or be forever lost within the confines of my car...she did so, walking casually, and remained still until I pulled over and showed her a leafy new home. Okay, okay, I will admit I might not have been so charmed had it been a much larger variety and landed in my hair ;)

I hope our local famous naturalist does not mind my posting his marvelous homage:

A Nod to the Crawlies

If you ever find yourself wondering where all the wildlife is, I suggest you make a change - not in location, but in your mindset. Instead of looking for animals you hope to see, take a moment to consider the amazing little critters that are always close at hand, buzzing your head, crawling up your pant leg or merely hitching a ride on the front of your boat. With the help of a good insect field guide (preferably one which describes behaviors and life cycles, not just identification) your exploration will take on a new dimension.
Every month of the year, and on every river we explore, the alert paddler will see; dragonflies and damselflies redefining flight, often in tandem as the male clasps the females neck, flying her around until they mate and sometimes hovering low over the water while she deposits eggs in the water; whirligig beetles, whose two sets of eyes allow them to seek prey underwater, while watching the skies for predators, fishing spiders that dangle a leg in the water to detect passing fish upon which to pounce.
But a word of caution. Once you've gained an appreciation for your creepy-crawly brethren, you'll be the slowest roach stomper and fly swatter in your home.

Procrastination

2009-04-14T16:36:00.005-04:00

is an ugly thing. And that's all I'm going to say about that!

So--I'm shampooing my hair in the shower, where I do my most profound thinking, by the way, and looking at the blue gum wall-stickon stuff I put over the tiny insect holes where caulk should have gone. Just days ago I waited as all the yet unidentified and much tinier than a pinhead bugs ran for their little lives back to the "main" entry into the wall, helped along by my soft blowing and a few nudges with fluffy cotton tips. All safely in, I plugged up the holes and they will have to march elsewhere now.

My connection with insects always seems strange to me. I don't know a lot about them, and I do not hesitate to kill a flea on dog or cat, or mosquito or tick on me. I do know that if I am not being attacked, I will do all I can to re-route a wasp, moth, ant, spider (ok, not technically an insect,) stickbug (carefully), even roach, plus a hundred others of colorful descriptions about which I know nothing. Every life is on a par with the other, and it always made sense that familiarity to me was not the gauge by which I measure something's wanting to exist. And yes, hitting them en masse with my car is extremely unsettling, but extricating automobiles from the world is a whole 'nuther subject.

Now working in the conditioner, I think about how long ago I came to know that my spirit animal is an anole, and it flashes through my mind that as many as I've seen and hung out with, I have rarely witnessed them actually eating insects, though of course they must. Then years later, a sunny, and I thought solitary, moment on a long prairie boardwalk and I felt eyes staring at me. Discarding, though not too quickly, the thought that I was crazy, I looked left to the railing to see a green anole quite fixated on me. Not afraid, looking and tilting his head one way, then the other. I stayed there for a couple of hours, and he never left; I chatted, not so sure about him. This scenario has happened much more than once, and I seem to attract them wherever I go, especially when alone.

As I rinse (but don't repeat) the inevitable thought came and I burst out laughing: Maybe I am a reincarnated bug and Mr. Anole was just sizing me up as food.

the white rabbit did it

2008-12-09T16:38:00.003-05:00

nor did Alice think it so VERY much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, `Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!' ..

Thought it was a dodge when bloggers said they were just too-too busy to post. Uh.....I've been really busy :)

Day off tomorrow, so will try to catch up!!

The concept of beauty

2008-09-19T22:48:00.004-04:00

Don't worry---I promise not to dissolve into a dissertation about how women are unfairly judged on their appearance from birth 'til death. Just an interesting occurence today while during a conversation, one of my bosses (the female one) said, "I bet you were pretty," referring to "way back then," whenever that was supposed to be, and obviously commiserating in the "fact" that this was no longer the case.

Instead of coming out with the appropriate response of "I'm pretty now, bitch," I bit my tongue and gave her a quick talk about how I never defined myself by my looks, be they good or bad. Doesn't mean that I am unaware of the impact, or lack thereof, or of the views of society---just means I am so much more than that.

Not many will believe this, but where physical attributes are concerned, I never see ugly people. I see people who are considered unattractive and truly, honestly don't think that in my head. It's like thinking that there's an ugly animal, when how can any animal be ugly?? They are what they are, and humans are too. Is someone worthless because of extra pounds, a scarred body, missing or diseased parts, no hair? Do we, or all species, have a built-in barometer of like-ness that narrowly defines the parameters for living within that species' community? Sounds nazi-spooky.

I have read where albino animals are often initially ostracized and excluded, but if memory serves, they are often accepted after time. We fight against many biological urges and drives all of the time---and that's where learned behavior must kick in.

Though my mom (and dad) died in 1992, on this day that is her birthday, allow me to thank both of them for teaching me the true meaning of acceptance.

Praise for children's book

2008-09-15T04:10:00.003-04:00

"How Gimble Gopher Tortoise Found A New Home"

http://floridawildflowerfoundation.blogspot.com/2008/06/delightful-childrens-book-tells-of.html

Go. Read. Buy. Tell.

Bambi interrupted

2008-09-15T02:58:00.006-04:00

Why are all the deer out foraging today in the mid-afternoon heat? someone asks.

Because the prairie turned a bit of a whore today in allowing a "duathlon" to trample its tender trails early in the misty morning, sending the natural inhabitants scurrying for cover. I am ashamed for those who made this decision---what part of "preserve" did they not get?

chicken wings with t & a

2008-09-01T08:24:00.005-04:00

I once heard someone say that the true measure of equality was when a black man was allowed to fail. In other words, he could fail simply because he was just another human being, and not have it blamed on his being black.

On the same train of thought, I suppose I should look at the Republican's female veep nomination as a measure of equity in that she is just another ultra-conservative, evangelical, pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps asshole, and it has nothing to do with her being female. Not.

The prevailing perception about how Democrats need to battle her "softly," because it will appear too harsh an attack on a "woman" makes me urp. It lets me know that double standards are still firmly in place, and that females remain quite willing to use whichever trait proves most expeditious (and yes I do admit that this is a response born of necessity---but may not serve us in the long run.)

I want to take them all home

2008-09-01T03:39:00.004-04:00

When the latest storm lashed through the prairie, there was a little less lash and a LOT more water. Electricity went out in most of the park buildings and we closed for a couple of days. Since I am a no-work no-pay employee, I was happy to see that the old horse barn, which is half-barn, half office/storage, did have power, and I made my way there to catch up on an old filing project.

Sporadic bands of drenching rain and high winds were still bustling through, and from the safety of the stalls (horses not in there...they are safer in the pasture) I watched as a very sudden squall descended upon the cracker cattle. I thought maybe they would sit, or go under the pole barn, but the entire herd made a startling run toward the fence, their backs to the now sideways rain. I realized without the fencing, they would have made a bee-line for the wooded area at the edge of the pasture, where trees would have afforded some relief from the stinging rain. But they were stopped, and there they stood, silently enduring.

A couple of the calves sought and found protection on the leeward sides of their mothers, and I even saw several adults gather closely, shielding this one or that one. A youngster couldn't settle, looking confused--not a baby, but not experienced enough to handle it himself. I urged him forward, though he could not hear me, nor would he have understood, but he finally lined up a little better behind some adults, and stood fast.

It was over in moments, and in only a few moments more, the entire herd had moved almost out of sight to the acreage hit first by the squall. Made sense.....if the storm came from that direction, then presumably to them it was going away from there. Though there might have been one or two old enough, most of this herd had not experienced the repetition of circular bands of hurricanes.

sex...and I do have one

2008-08-26T23:45:00.008-04:00

after all......it is midnight at the prairie, and quite the enchanting hour.

Fascinating debate between two of us at work (who are at opposite ends of political spectrum, me being progressive left and him being....well, you know) about what you could say to a young girl nowadays to actually make her stop and think about having sex at such a young age. I gave a flowery speech about teaching little girls to respect themselves first, etc. etc. but began to think about what it was that made me not have "actual" sex until I was 21. Okay, I was brought up in a different era, but it was 1971 and the sanctioned freedom to have sex was a reality.

I had desired sex from a very young age (more on that in my other blog), but never acted upon it save the heavy "making out" that we did in junior and senior high school---I often believed I ended up much more frustrated than the boys. It wasn't that I wished to be a "good girl" because even as a youngster, sexuality was such a huge part of the inner me, I never saw these desires as making you "bad."

What I realized was that I had been privy to enough male-male conversations about girls to be taken aback by the ugliness of their content. It was rarely flattering, even when the girls in question were smart, beautiful, loving and seemingly everything they desired. I developed a huge fear of being disrespected or humiliated or fooled like that---I knew that sex was so integral to me, and the thought of it and me being the butt of a joke was enough to stop me every time.

(btw...when I did have sex for the first time, it was with the abandon of galloping horses----I happily chose it, and it was exactly what I wanted. The key word being "I." At least it happened, and continued to happen in scenarios of my choice, design, and control. Therefore it ultimately did not matter what any man thought or said. (yes, yes, this goes in the other blog as well.)

So my conservative friend says, "well, that's exactly what morality is made up of.....fear and consequences." I chewed on this for a minute. Actually, lots of minutes. I knew I didn't agree, but for the life of me couldn't be clear as to why I thought so. Certainly biblical teaching, certainly parental teaching, but it seemed such a shallow interpretation of morality. He obviously believed that morality is dictated to you by a higher power......my sister believes that morality is simply the choices a collection of like-minded humans make that provide them with the most comfort and safety, and thus surrounds them with more like-minded humans, and not believing in that particular kind of higher power, I like her idea much better. But voila, that, too, is rooted in fear and consequences.

I always thought it was simple equation, and the closest I could come to description was a version of the Golden Rule. How hard could it be to tell when you were hurting others, when you yourself knew what hurt was? And then I watched decent people do bad things, and I was back at the drawing board, as each one had made the definition of hurt so subjective. And why? Fill in the blanks: ____ & ____________.

Rats.

Okay, then...scare the crap out of 'em, put the birth control pills in their orange juice and condoms in their Hello Kitty purses. Maybe we can pretend that self-centered is the same thing as self-respect. Or maybe self-preservation is amoral?

hit and run

2008-08-16T23:27:00.003-04:00

returning from opening trail gate, picked up small box turtle from highway after someone's car had obviously hit it---shell was severely broken in several places and he was bleeding. I was shocked when he moved his head so ran him over to vet near park. Vet & husband take care of many turtles at home, but he was so badly injured, and I know very much in pain. Don't yet know outcome, but at least he got another chance, even if slight.

You can't eat honor

2008-08-12T19:11:00.005-04:00

The aforementioned humiliation at change of job duties is no more. Because the job is no more as of end of August. Not to be dramatic (me?) but I was promised by the head man himself a job through December, and a few days later they had simply changed their minds, saying the schedule wasn't to their liking. Of course, they had all that info when the promise was made. I've already worked through most of the anger, but a deep feeling of disappointment in people as a whole remains, and it colors my view in a way that will be hard to erase.

Still foolish enough to accept yet another part-time position (I have two part-time positions...the other one did not change knockonwoodthankluckystars) in another location....alas, 44 miles round trip, and I have no idea how I can afford that. But job is better than no job. The "new" manager is quite splendid, so there's always hope. Maybe. With progress like this, I should be living in the gutter by retirement age.

Should I have taken up my ex-lover's offer a while back when he offered to pay for unencumbered bjs?

Nah. I only do that for love ;)

they shoot horses, don't they?

2008-08-04T11:19:00.006-04:00

Don't misunderstand---for 99% of the time, I am delighted with visitors to "my" prairie. But every once in a while we get a just desserts situation that is pleasing to our nature-protective souls. Two young men had come to visit the day before yesterday to check out the terrain in prep for bringing (and supposedly impressing) their girlfriends. Ignoring a face-to-face warning from the staff, they came face-to-face with being locked in at an inner gate closing time. Left there only for three minutes, they wailed and made all sorts of excuses when let out.

So you can imagine the wonderful irony when they returned the next day, girls in tow, and scampered out onto a trail which traverses half the prairie basin, and found four wild horses on the return path. Most visitors would be thrilled, as this is not a regular occurrence, but this hysterical kid called the station stating that the horses were "attacking" them and they wanted someone sent right away. Telling them to calm down and not spook or throw things at the animals, and they might have to wait a few for the little band to move on seemed to upset him further, so I promised some assistance. It was only minutes, but he called again in greater distress, saying they had to retreat around the bend on the trail, and someone needed to come.right.now.

The FUN part is that it was the same staff member as the day before, who, incidentally, knows horses domestic and wild like the back of her hand, and who was able to casually stroll through the horses to "rescue" the people like a (wait for it) walk in the park!! She was professional and nice to them, didn't gloat, and explained that the horses would not have hurt them had they just walked around with little fanfare. A true Kodak moment, and I would not have been so kind.

I shudder to think what their reaction would have been to the bison (who will charge if they see fit) or an alligator (who usually won't, but who likes the spot it picked and can be reluctant to move.) I think we should have told him about the dozens of moccasins who love to stand their ground as long as they can see you. Maybe he'll think twice about returning.

Youth doesn't entitle you to condescension, and I get easily fed up with people of any age being nasty and expecting niceness in return because "we pay your salary." Hey, bend over and I will shove my college degree up your ass, as that's the only place you seem to park your head. If you have no respect for what you have supposedly traveled to see, I'll give you a map to Disney F. World, where you will feel very much at home.

Self-definition

2008-08-01T20:12:00.004-04:00

Though my father was a university professor, I was taught as a little girl to never judge anyone, especially myself, by my job. All work was good work, including my mother's "job" as a homemaker. So imagine my surprise today when I felt what I urgently hoped was a transient humiliation. The other half of my aforementioned job is a desk one, but one that was creative, fun, and best of all had flamboyantly flexible hours. That ended July 31st.

The reason I am still there is a an agreed upon transition in job duties, which will keep me there until early December only. Beggars-choosers thing. Several months back, I had declined an opportunity to move up from assistant when my boss left---a good decision at the time, since there was no indication my job would cease to be funded. Now my duties are rote, my hours locked in (as well as my butt) and I must complete the training of the young girl who did take my former boss' job. At first I was grateful to still have a job, period, but as the day wore on, and I was sticking labels on files, answering the phone, getting a true feel for what I would no longer be doing, the day wore on me as well.

Okay, I'll get over/past it, and I need to worry more about finding something else by December to compliment the weekend job, not wallowing in what could have been. It was just a tough few hours, and for just a few seconds I was a hot-faced little 2nd-grader, embarrassed in front of the class by a small-minded teacher who could not resist pointing out my booklet-stapling error. I had edged toward the door, all prepared to run out and up to the protection of the principal's office. (sounds odd, but him I knew and liked) She moved to the door, and I didn't have the guts to push past her.

Well, I'm not 7 now, but 57 and I need to get a grip. Just low on "chipper," and for some reason I have begun to understand why some must make a beeline for the local bar at quitting time.

Work?

2008-07-29T10:00:00.004-04:00

I work in a place of pre-dawn clarity: Exciting swamp and forest sounds, deer with dewy mouthfuls of budding shoots, bugs more tiny than pinheads or bigger than fists. I am so happy I almost sing the litany of breathing. Then as it does, the tree crashes down, the swamp is silent, the coyote takes the fawn and the spider the bug. Prey & predator reverse roles and reverse roles again. I know this is what is, but I never get used to it. Flawed design.

Closure not

2008-07-28T16:18:00.001-04:00

Though I have come to understand that people want it, especially after a tragedy, I never believed in the concept of "closure." Seems too convenient, and seems to give permission to walk away from people, problems and events that are messy or troublesome as if they were disposable. I do believe that these people and problems can come to occupy a different space within you, but for that to truly happen shouldn't they be dealt with and integrated?

"Closure" will most likely return to bite you in the ass.