Up for Air

I don't dare look at how long it's been since I posted last.  I'm not even sure my faithful readers are still checking in here.... Mom, Dad, are you out there? ;)   Anyways.  I've spent the entire day working on the analysis section of my senior paper that was due yesterday.  And, I'm not done yet.  But I'm going to bed soon anyways. I knew I was getting a little tired when I started assigning my survey participants names of literary characters.  I have Mrs. March, Mrs. Bhaer, Miss Ingalls, Mrs. Wilder, Miss Shirley, and Miss Huddleston.

My roommate was a sweetheart and did my dishes for me tonight.  She even packed up my beets that I cooked, cooled, and forgot while I was immersed in my analysis of my survey results.  I only asked three survey questions but most respondents gave multiple answers so that left me with lots of data to sift through.  And of course, how do I want to arrange it, represent it, or quote it?  So many options.  So out of time!

Fair Moments

After working in the County Fair Livestock Office for six years, I never tire of sharing the funny moments in the midst of the frenzy of fair.  Here are some of this year's "fair" moments:

"Ummm, excuse me?" A teenage girl and boy stand peeking in the door to the livestock office trailer.  I look up from the show paperwork I'm sorting and ask how I can help them.  "My pig ate my bill of sale," the girl replies.  I muffle my laughter and ask to see it.  The boy pipes in that they have a copy of it but they were told we need the original.   The paper is mangled and has a large snout shaped chunk taken out of it but all the pertinent details are there.  I grab the tape and a sheet of paper and use the new paper as backing.  The bill of sale salvaged, the teens head out to take their pigs through the weigh in.  I burst out laughing at the thought of what their FFA advisor's face would look like when they told him.  "My pig ate my bill of sale..."  Wonder if that pig got the taste for paper from a steady diet of homework?  Or better yet, who put the pig in charge of the bill of sale?

Every group has "special people."  Fair is no different.  I actually kind of want a shirt that says "NOT a member of the 4-H Drama Project"  But, both sides of the livestock aisle has its share of drama.   Oddly enough, the people who create the drama are the ones who are most passionate (or competitive) about their animals, children, or event.  In the six years I've been in the office, I've heard a lot of drama.  My favorite this year was the rumor being spread about during weigh in that the scale was 70 lbs off.   Each animal has a specific weight range required to be shown.  If the scale was that far off we would have either a lot of underweight or overweight animals.  The idea that the scale was 70 lbs off was laughable. 

Each year, I end up trying something new in the Livestock arena.  Last year, I did some announcing.  This year, I checked tattoos at vet check for the dairy goats.  I like goats.  I was a part of the dairy goat project when my siblings were showing.  I never did tattoos.  Never looked at tattoos.  But, we needed someone with goat experience to go out and check tattoos.  In theory, I knew the tattoos were done in the ears or, in the absence of ears, the tail. I grab a flashlight (for a backlight) and wipes (to clean the area) and head out.  Now, my siblings raised Toggenburgs. Lovely mocha colored goats with white markings.  And light skin.  The first goats through the vet check: Alpines.  With DARK ears.  Goats are tattooed with dark green ink.  Try spotting green ink on black skin...  Even with a flashlight for back light, it was like trying to find a green bead in a box of blue beads that someone is shaking in the dark.   Plus, every tattoo varies in placement in the ear.  Seriously, goats with black ears should be tattooed with black light ink.  It would be so much better. Trying to figure out which way was up or down to determine if it was a letter or number was a challenge.  I was just looking to see if there was a tattoo much less trying to read it.  "What am I looking for?"  "A3"  "Ok... I sort of think I see something that looks like that" All this without slowing down the line of animals cleared by the vet so they could get out of the hot trailers and into the building.  It was a challenge that made me laugh and say "never again!"    

My other favorites were the freshly tattooed goat kids.  You knew where they had been tattooed by the large amount of green ink in their ears.   The ink needed to be wiped off in order to read the tat.  Such lovely green ink which sticks to your fingers and gets into your cuticles.  I didn't mind the ink on my hands.  The green thumb look works for me but I still have a remnant of ink in my cuticles. 
   
On Saturday, I arrived to find a goldfish in a nice little carrying container sitting on my desk.  There was a note.  The fish and the note had been left outside the door and found by the Livestock Manager.  The note read:

D3AR Livestock Office, 

I can no longer provide 4 my baby gurl.  

please spoil her rotten.  

Her name is Jazzy.   

Thanks I love you,

MBR

It took me a day but I found Jazzy a home. In the meantime, the note and the fish became a bit of a local livestock legend. We even thought about auctioning her off to benefit the Ag Boosters.  I also sent a picture of the note to a couple of friends thinking they would enjoy the laugh.  But I forgot to explain that Jazzy was a fish...  :)

 Back in March, I went on a planting spree. 

 Tomato Purse!  

(6 pack with a carrying handle)

 Beware of mint.  It has delusions of grandeur.

 When I finished the planting spree, I had 5 tomatoes planted.

 Front Yard Fungi

 The balcony as of a few weeks ago.  7 tomatoes, 8 strawberries, 11 pole beans, 20 + squash and cucumbers in 4 inch pots, and herbs.

 The herb corner in the community garden.

 Peas

The whole jungle of a garden.

Update

It's been a fun couple of weeks.  The program I work for at the University was going through an accreditation process and we ran about making sure everything went smoothly.   It went incredibly smoothly and the program passed with flying colors.  My new nickname is "the Dean's Assistant" as someone mistook me as such.  I'm not going to complain about that... I just need to live up to it!

Tonight, in my multicultural literature class, we were looking at Jacqueline Woodson's book If You come Softly. It's an excellent book that will be added to my library.  In the book. Jeremiah makes a comparison between rain and the looks he and Ellie receive  while dating (he's African American and she's White).

"Think of it..." Jeremiah said slowly. "Like weather or something. You got your rain, your snow, your sunshine.  Always changing but still constant, you know."

In class, snow was compared to the overt acts of racism and sunshine to the days where racism isn't present.

Jeremiah continues with, "Let's say it's rain- the people who've got problems with us being together-let's call them and their problems rain."

A little later, the snow is melting on Ellie's face and I made a point about snow as a metaphor for racism in the book.  This got my professor really excited.  And he proceeded to emphasize snow as he read the rest of his selections in the book.


But what he didn't know was...




My mom was an English major in college. 

 

She would do this thing when we were growing up, pointing out the symbolism and metaphors as we watched movies or read books.  She ruined more movies that way. :)  We'd be watching a movie and all of a sudden there's Mom talking and pointing out patterns and symbolism (see the waves crashing, that implies...or when Mr. Darcy goes for a swim, that's a symbol of rebirth...  yada yada yada ).   This is all wonderfully helpful as an adult but when you just want to watch a movie, not so much.

I caught myself doing the same thing recently while watching the "other" Pride and Prejudice (2006). I'm turning into my mother! When Lizzy wanders through the statuary room at Pemberley, there's an awakening and Lizzy gains the awareness of a woman. It wasn't a very subtle metaphor though.   I have to have a disclaimer here. This was my first time watching this version all the way through.  The first time I tried to watch it, I wanted to smack Bingley for acting like a 15 year old boy, walking into a girls room WHILE knocking, being coached on proper etiquette and his general silliness....  I just couldn't take it. ;) 

Anyways, I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to post.  The picture at the top has nothing to do with the post.  I just wanted to add a picture.  Plus, I had been thinking about the trip Mom and I took to Washington a year and a half ago. 

Thanks Mom for making me look smart!  Love you!  :)

Hair Story

Ducking under tree branches, my hair was adorned with bits and pieces of plant material.  It had been a delightful day working on a building project, but I needed to check for ticks before heading back to the university.  My mom pulled out a hairbrush.  A hairbrush!

I haven't used a hairbrush in years.

Curls just don't respond well to "The Brush."   Since I couldn't come up with an alternative so I wouldn't go home with a new "friend,"  I submitted to the brush. 

My brother saw me afterwards and declared that I looked like Hermione (from the early Harry Potter films) and the Princess Diaries' Princess Mia (before the makeover).   Flattery will get you everywhere... 
Personally, I was going to say I looked like the female triangle hair Dilbert cartoon character.

The whole incident made me think back to my childhood... the good years with de-tangler, the bad years of the hair dryer and funky bangs and the years of braids and buns in an attempt to keep the friz down.  Dad blowing drying my hair upside down after bath time when I was six.  I think my hair was horizontal until Mom came in to fix it.  And then, I discovered conditioner.  The most vital thing for a curly girl: conditioner.  The brush became a fixture in the back of the drawer.  The hairdryer was left behind.  My hair slowly morphed into something manageable.  I even liked it.  And now, I love it.  

Stay back brushes and hairdryers, this head is all natural and naturally curly.

Post 50!

So for having this blog for three years, this is only my 50th post... Can you say slacker? ;)

Then again, my motivation to post has increased over the last year since this is a great medium for sharing my life with family and friends.

I'm sitting on the floor, looking at clouds rolling overhead. It looks like a time lapse video; they're moving so fast! I should be working on a paper for tomorrow but it's halfway finished and I've been called in to work.

My hawk buddy was back outside my window, yesterday. A hawk looks a lot like a scrawny chicken when he/she stretches up to get a better look at something. I think it's the legs... I love it when the hawk hunts outside. It reminds me too look up, and usually I grab my camera to take pictures.

Currently my camera is out of commission until I find my batteries. I have a pack of AA somewhere in my room, but with finals week my room isn't the best place to find anything. It looks like Miss Messy moved in. This is not ok. I don't like Miss Messy and she will not be staying long. Part of the problem is that my garden moved inside since the exterior of the building is being painted and there's a lot of clutter from that. Paper, my worst enemy has taken over. I started the semester with neat files for every subject. Now, I have neat piles for every subject. So much for a campus move towards sustainability and reduced paper usage. At least filing will be easy. I just have one paper and I'm done for the semester!

Can I post this?

I'm still questioning whether I should post this. Every couple of months, I feel a little to introspective thinking about life and how I'm not where I expected to be. First problem: too many "I"s in that sentence. I may not be where I expected, but God knows where I am. He sees me. He holds the map. It's even better than a Google Map. It's a God Map. ;)

So here's the real post.

Do you ever feel like you're swimming and not moving?

I feel like I've been in the same place for the last 6 years. I'm coming up on the divider birthday between early twenty's and late twenty's. I'll officially be in my mid-twenties. And it makes me want to run; hard and fast as far as I can go. I feel like I'm missing the milestones that I should have reached at this point. I really didn't plan on making college my career, honest. Yet here I am 6 years into it and I have 2 more to go. And that's just for the BA!

I've never been asked out on a date.

I've been asked to dance once and accepted. Really, I don't bite, I swear. I've been to a lot of dances but in 4-H your chances were slim since there were 3 girls for every guy. Girls in 4-H had to take initiative to get a dance and in my mind that would be "forward". Civil War Balls involved bribing my brother to dance with me if no one asked and then elbowing or tromping on his toes so he would ask since the etiquette required boys to ask.

A boy brought me flowers, once. He was single; he was cute. He was five.

I know a lot of this is my own fault though, there are things about me that need to change.
My grandmother's voice adds to my list: wear brighter colors, wear makeup, smile at boys, flirt, make eye contact. For the record, I do make eye contact. ;)

Someone is getting married. I'm told "All the good ones get taken first". Gee thanks.

"So are you dating yet?" Every time a relative visits, this question never fails to be asked. Note to self: I need more creative answers...

I'm at a wedding (couple years ago) and a newly married friend leans over at the end with a "you'll be next!" Next in relation to what? And here I thought only grandmothery types doled out that one.

I met one other person who had never been asked out. We were both in our early twenties. Less than six months later, she was engaged. God works fast doesn't he! :)

The nice part about starting over in a new place is that no one really knows how old I am unless they ask. Most just assume I'm about 21 since I'm a junior transfer student. And FYI not wearing makeup helps with that assumption.

The funny thing is I like being single. I enjoy my freedom, time and space. I feel that I've used this time wisely. I think the trouble stems from seeing what's important to the world/culture and using that as my measuring stick. I just don't like being thought of as a failure and I feel like the world and even people in the church see me as that.

I'm different. I'm on a special God mission. He has a plan just for me and it doesn't look like anyone else's plan. I may be running right now but I'm running to him.

Commit your way to the Lord, hope in him and he will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun.
- Psalm 37:5-6