My dad pointed out the other day that I hadn't updated this in half a year...so I suppose it wouldn't hurt.
While I was sitting in a hijacked office today (my office's air conditioning is broken and it was 89' in my office the past two mornings), scanning for the third or fourth time through 169 archaeological/historical sites in Nevada, my mind naturally began wandering. I drifted through several trains of thought without registering any of them before I finally hit on something that caught my attention; mostly because it made me angry. I've talked about this before with people, and everyone seems to feel roughly the same way I do about it.
About what?
About the lack of a 'forced' rite of passage for young men (and to an extent young women) these days. In the past few months I have met and befriended and tried to understand several young men (and some not-so-young) who just never stopped wandering through adolescence. Nothing has happened to make these boys into men. Nothing has finally distanced them enough from all support and help that they finally had to just buck up and decide some things about themselves.
What do you believe in? Is there any belief system at all that grabs you? What are you passionate about? What makes you angry? What brings you joy? Who do you love? Do you love yourself? Do you understand why you react the way you do? Why are you, at this very moment, doing what you are doing?
I begin to despair. I had hoped, for so long, that these questions that I answered for myself throughout adolescence, had struck other people. And I had also hoped, that people became comfortable with the answers to those questions. But apparently...not.
Don't get me wrong: a lot of people know the who, what, why, where, and when of their lives. But so many people don't, and so many of those people (at least the ones I meet), are boys. They can't decide quite what they think about anything. They don't want to feel anything. They find themselves contradicting themselves about basic standards of belief...how can they live with it??
I feel like girls are biologically forced into starting to grow up. You just learn to deal with life, and accept that things are just going to happen, and it's going to hurt, but life does move on. But boys...they can drift for decades before settling down somewhere. And it hurts to watch them get older and older and still wonder who they are and why they're here. I feel that some sort of rite of passage, missing from our culture but present in others, could fix that. Give them a deadline and a purpose, and they will find themselves. And it will be wonderful.
:) On that bizarre note, I hope you all have a wonderfully fizzy day, and that the AC in my office gets fixed soon.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
Because I Kinda Miss My Blog
Once again, school has started, and once again, everything has leapt into the air all at once, and is coming skittering down around me, and as usual, I can't catch it all. But dancing in the rain of all my projects and due dates and notepads is not that bad.
There are a few comments I'd like to make about my current life and situation...
That Elizabeth Hall is a boring, inefficient, cold building, whose furnishings are neither conducive to teaching or learning. I almost preferred Buildings 1 and 2.
The idea of not putting doors on restrooms is appalling. I don't care how long and twisted the hallways to the stalls is from the main hall, it's wrong.
Six months ago I hated guacamole. Now I can't get enough.
I must remember to put each class in focus BEFORE I step through the door for the first time, or I will suffer a month of disappointments before I can quit worrying about it.
Adding new things to one's reading list is always good, and there is always time. Most recently, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Thank you, mom!
Rabbit food may be healthier, but it sure doesn't fill you up.
You can learn to like something you've always hated: like running on a treadmill. It used to be terrible, but now its invigorating.
It will always take longer to clean the snow off your car than you think.
Being an adult is a fallacy. Reaching a mature, balanced decision about something doesn't happen, because your opinion will always change, but you still may always be right or wrong.
Really, don't judge people.
Find time to love everyone, including yourself.
The more I read Pride and Prejudice, the more I like Mr. Darcy.
Decide that the snow is beautiful, and learn to live with it.
There are a few comments I'd like to make about my current life and situation...
That Elizabeth Hall is a boring, inefficient, cold building, whose furnishings are neither conducive to teaching or learning. I almost preferred Buildings 1 and 2.
The idea of not putting doors on restrooms is appalling. I don't care how long and twisted the hallways to the stalls is from the main hall, it's wrong.
Six months ago I hated guacamole. Now I can't get enough.
I must remember to put each class in focus BEFORE I step through the door for the first time, or I will suffer a month of disappointments before I can quit worrying about it.
Adding new things to one's reading list is always good, and there is always time. Most recently, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Thank you, mom!
Rabbit food may be healthier, but it sure doesn't fill you up.
You can learn to like something you've always hated: like running on a treadmill. It used to be terrible, but now its invigorating.
It will always take longer to clean the snow off your car than you think.
Being an adult is a fallacy. Reaching a mature, balanced decision about something doesn't happen, because your opinion will always change, but you still may always be right or wrong.
Really, don't judge people.
Find time to love everyone, including yourself.
The more I read Pride and Prejudice, the more I like Mr. Darcy.
Decide that the snow is beautiful, and learn to live with it.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Random Scientific-ish Notes
Concerning the conclusion of my corn experiment...
[Date: September 29, 2008 @ approx. 1:20 p.m.]
[Corn cob had been drying since August 30, 2008]
*Note: I think that was far too long, but I hadn't a chance before now to proceed. This may have interfered with the outcome of the experiment.
[Used rock mano and metate from rocks found in my yard. The metate grinding surface (unprepared in any way) was slightly concave and fairly smooth, and was about 7'' by 13''. I will measure more accurately later. The mano was small and squarish, fitting in the palm of my hand. Again, unprepared and yet fairly smooth.]
-I proceeded by manually pulling several kernels of corn out of the cob. This raised the question of HOW IT SHOULD have been done, because for doing anything more than playing around, this method of extraction is highly inefficient. The kernels were hard as rocks, and so I tapped hard on them with my mano to crush them.
*At this point I noticed that the breeze, which was almost non-existent, was blowing away some of my kernels and much of the meal from my pounding. Thus, ideally, grinding needed to be done in a sheltered area, away from wind. Also, a wasp buzzing around landed on my metate at this point and wandered through the meal for a while. Apparently the pollen or something attracted it. This adds to the conclusion that grinding should be done in a sheltered area.
-After I had crushed the kernels down to a manageable size, I began grinding back and forth with slow, even motions. The result, in terms of actual cornmeal, was negligible, and most of the residue was flakey, husk-like material. I think then, that it would take several cobs of decent size (not to mention a skilled grinder) to produce enough cornmeal for even a couple of tortillas.
What questions do I have now?
-How were the kernels removed from the corn?
-Did I pick the corn too early?
-How was the unwanted residue separated from the cornmeal?
-How did they get the cornmeal off the metate?
-How long was the corn dried for?
What have I learned?
-It would have been very difficult to switch to an agricultural lifestyle. Much more time and energy is expended for what little you get back vs. a hunting-gathering lifestyle. It's no wonder that they wore their metates into the ground; just carrying mine from the side yard to the backyard was a chore!
Next Time:
-I will plant more corn in a better area than a tiny planter box. Maybe I'll even sing to it.
-I will wait longer to pick the corn, and less time to dry the corn.
-I will grind it in the garage, where there's no wind.
And you know what? It was fun! I want to do it again next summer!
Monday, July 28, 2008
I've decided to be a hunter-gatherer.
Long time no update? Yeah, s'how it goes with us, ain't it? Anywho, I've decided I want to gripe a little bit about my maize experiment.
I decided to grow some maize this year, and ideally, I would have planted it just in the normal, yucky soil that's in my yard, and done waffle gardening with it, to make the whole experiment that much more authentic. BUT, the only available ground in the yard was actually a 4x6 planter box, and I had to plant 16 stalks of corn, because it there isn't at least 4x4 corn stalks, the corn won't pollinate. Go figure.
So I planted my corn, and the waffle I had tried to make around it soon went away because that sort of thing is more useful in hard, sandy, clay-filled soil than it is in a planter box full of garden soil. But my corn grew, and it did very well! :) All of the seeds I planted came up, and so after a few weeks I cut the smaller ones back so the bigger ones could take off. The small shoots kept insisting upon coming up though, so up until a couple of weeks ago, I just let them. And the corn was still doing very well.
And then...
I checked on it a week ago, and discovered that the leaves had been stripped and eaten. My mum said it was probably earwigs, so I got some insecticidal soap and started squirting down my corn. And all the earwigs came crawling out all over the place... *shudders* it was really gross. So I attacked the earwigs by spraying them with so much soap that they just started drowning and suffocating. I thought that since the soap wasn't chemical, that everything would be fine and dandy....yeah, it wasn't. That night, something, a racoon, or dog, or kid, or something, came wandering past my corn and fell over in it. All the stalks except one broke and fell the same direction. :(
I thought that I could possibly salvage it still, so I got some bamboo and twine and put all the stalks back up and tied the supports to them. I waited for a couple of days to water it, just so it could try and re-establish itself. No dice.
So this morning, I went out and cut down all the stalks except the one that is still standing. The roots of all the corn was rotted out and mushy; there is no way the stalk could have supported its own weight. I put in more seeds where I cut the stalks down, and I'm crossing my fingers that fall is long and warm this season. Maybe, even if the new stalks don't all come up, or don't reach maturity and produce fruit, that they'll at least pollinate my one big stalk, and I'll get a few ears of corn to dry and grind. *knocks on wood*
In some ways though, I'm glad that it died, because it's given me some first-hand experience into what growing corn might have been like for the Fremont Indians. There is a lot of risk in very quickly switching from completely subsisting off of hunting and gathering to horticulture. In the early stages of learning, they had to learn to combat insects, keep larger animals from eating the stalks, make sure it got enough water but didn't drown in floods if it was planted near a river...all sorts of things. So yeah...I think it's placed me in thinking that there was a lot more stability in a hunting and gathering culture that there is in an almost completely horticultural society.
I decided to grow some maize this year, and ideally, I would have planted it just in the normal, yucky soil that's in my yard, and done waffle gardening with it, to make the whole experiment that much more authentic. BUT, the only available ground in the yard was actually a 4x6 planter box, and I had to plant 16 stalks of corn, because it there isn't at least 4x4 corn stalks, the corn won't pollinate. Go figure.
So I planted my corn, and the waffle I had tried to make around it soon went away because that sort of thing is more useful in hard, sandy, clay-filled soil than it is in a planter box full of garden soil. But my corn grew, and it did very well! :) All of the seeds I planted came up, and so after a few weeks I cut the smaller ones back so the bigger ones could take off. The small shoots kept insisting upon coming up though, so up until a couple of weeks ago, I just let them. And the corn was still doing very well.
And then...
I checked on it a week ago, and discovered that the leaves had been stripped and eaten. My mum said it was probably earwigs, so I got some insecticidal soap and started squirting down my corn. And all the earwigs came crawling out all over the place... *shudders* it was really gross. So I attacked the earwigs by spraying them with so much soap that they just started drowning and suffocating. I thought that since the soap wasn't chemical, that everything would be fine and dandy....yeah, it wasn't. That night, something, a racoon, or dog, or kid, or something, came wandering past my corn and fell over in it. All the stalks except one broke and fell the same direction. :(
I thought that I could possibly salvage it still, so I got some bamboo and twine and put all the stalks back up and tied the supports to them. I waited for a couple of days to water it, just so it could try and re-establish itself. No dice.
So this morning, I went out and cut down all the stalks except the one that is still standing. The roots of all the corn was rotted out and mushy; there is no way the stalk could have supported its own weight. I put in more seeds where I cut the stalks down, and I'm crossing my fingers that fall is long and warm this season. Maybe, even if the new stalks don't all come up, or don't reach maturity and produce fruit, that they'll at least pollinate my one big stalk, and I'll get a few ears of corn to dry and grind. *knocks on wood*
In some ways though, I'm glad that it died, because it's given me some first-hand experience into what growing corn might have been like for the Fremont Indians. There is a lot of risk in very quickly switching from completely subsisting off of hunting and gathering to horticulture. In the early stages of learning, they had to learn to combat insects, keep larger animals from eating the stalks, make sure it got enough water but didn't drown in floods if it was planted near a river...all sorts of things. So yeah...I think it's placed me in thinking that there was a lot more stability in a hunting and gathering culture that there is in an almost completely horticultural society.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
All's Well That Ends Well
For a while, it looked like the semester was a total loss. And while financially speaking it was, the world has once more righted itself, and things look better. :) For starters, I'm going camping three weeks in a row! This weekend I'm off to the San Rafael Swell to look at sites and rock art (yeah!!), and the week after that I get to go to the Mecca of all Southwestern archaeological sites: Chaco Canyon! I'm so looking forward to seeing Pueblo Bonito, some kivas, more rock art, and just plain getting out of town. And after that, my mom and I are heading for Arizona for kicks and giggles. I tell you, it's amazing.
Secondly, I can officially go back to school full time in the fall because I am VERY nearly out of debt, and I finally got a scholarship!! That means I can quit the stupid second job and start feeling like a human being again! :D
And now, I'm going to go finish packing.
Secondly, I can officially go back to school full time in the fall because I am VERY nearly out of debt, and I finally got a scholarship!! That means I can quit the stupid second job and start feeling like a human being again! :D
And now, I'm going to go finish packing.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
The things not included in tuition....
Someday, someone is going to discover a painless, easy, education-centered way to do college. When that someone does, I hope I become their best friend.
Wouldn't college be great if you didn't have to deal with politics, lousy professors, redundant counselors, mean financial aid offices, high vending machine prices, icy sidewalks, cold buildings, construction, inadequate parking, copy machines, computer labs, and library late fees? The world would be glorious. Everyone would get the grades they deserve, food to eat, and feel like the actually got some kickback from the extra several hundred dollars they drop every semester for fees. Just close your eyes and imagine.
You wouldn't walk up to a vending machine to with your ash-tray change only to discover that Pop Tarts and Coke are now 25 cents more. You wouldn't catch a 6:30 a.m. bus to get to class only to find it had been canceled. You would get that term project back along with the final grade, so you knew why you got the grade you did. The printers wouldn't automatically print everything double-sided, just the way professors hate. You wouldn't slip and fall on the icy steps going up campus. You could find a place to park that didn't require a ten minute hike to your desired building. Wow....
I have this sneaking suspicion that colleges are out to teach us something more about life: that you never get what you deserve; you never feel you get what you paid for; expect to add in an extra hour in your morning for something that may not happen; learn to fight with officials and executives over meager points of principal; exercise your right to vote, because it doesn't matter anyway; and food is expensive. Golly, I feel good about the world.
Wouldn't college be great if you didn't have to deal with politics, lousy professors, redundant counselors, mean financial aid offices, high vending machine prices, icy sidewalks, cold buildings, construction, inadequate parking, copy machines, computer labs, and library late fees? The world would be glorious. Everyone would get the grades they deserve, food to eat, and feel like the actually got some kickback from the extra several hundred dollars they drop every semester for fees. Just close your eyes and imagine.
You wouldn't walk up to a vending machine to with your ash-tray change only to discover that Pop Tarts and Coke are now 25 cents more. You wouldn't catch a 6:30 a.m. bus to get to class only to find it had been canceled. You would get that term project back along with the final grade, so you knew why you got the grade you did. The printers wouldn't automatically print everything double-sided, just the way professors hate. You wouldn't slip and fall on the icy steps going up campus. You could find a place to park that didn't require a ten minute hike to your desired building. Wow....
I have this sneaking suspicion that colleges are out to teach us something more about life: that you never get what you deserve; you never feel you get what you paid for; expect to add in an extra hour in your morning for something that may not happen; learn to fight with officials and executives over meager points of principal; exercise your right to vote, because it doesn't matter anyway; and food is expensive. Golly, I feel good about the world.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Perry Mason, puppy dogs, and Prime Minister Philosophies
A couple of random ideas for tonight's entry. The first being:
Everything I Needed to Know About Life I Learned From Perry Mason
-Never have your laundry cleaned after committing a murder.
-It is possible to hike through a mine shaft in high heels.
-Always have change for a phone call. Or two. Or three.
-Wipe your fingerprints off everything if you stray across a crime scene.
-A good detective is never without his trench coat.
-Never go anywhere without a cigarette and matches.
-You can always get an airline reservation in under 30 minutes if your name is Della Street or Perry Mason.
-Always carry a white handkerchief.
-Never trust the hotel clerk. If he isn't a murderer, he's a blackmailer.
-And of course, Perry and Della make a very cute couple.
You Know You've Been Watching Too Much Yes Minister When...
When one has been over-occupying one's copious spare time with the viewing of extra-curricular television shows to an almost unhealthy extent, one has tendencies towards beginning to speak, act, and write notes, emails, texts, papers, etc, with a verboseness uncharacteristic of the personage in question; however, not at all uncharacteristic of one Sir Humphrey Applebee, Principal Secretary to Prime Minister James Hacker. At time like these, one sees fit to apologize for one's actions, except, of course, when one is in the presence of others who are not altogether against, and indeed, enjoy watching the afore-mentioned extra-curricular television show.
And last but not least, my family has just been extended to include a lovely three month old wire fox terrier, who has yet to receive a name. Everything from Schultz to Bob has been suggested and hashed over, the only problem is, he doesn't seem to prefer one name over the other, and doesn't look like the same thing (name) to any all of us...I'll update you on developments. :)
Everything I Needed to Know About Life I Learned From Perry Mason
-Never have your laundry cleaned after committing a murder.
-It is possible to hike through a mine shaft in high heels.
-Always have change for a phone call. Or two. Or three.
-Wipe your fingerprints off everything if you stray across a crime scene.
-A good detective is never without his trench coat.
-Never go anywhere without a cigarette and matches.
-You can always get an airline reservation in under 30 minutes if your name is Della Street or Perry Mason.
-Always carry a white handkerchief.
-Never trust the hotel clerk. If he isn't a murderer, he's a blackmailer.
-And of course, Perry and Della make a very cute couple.
You Know You've Been Watching Too Much Yes Minister When...
When one has been over-occupying one's copious spare time with the viewing of extra-curricular television shows to an almost unhealthy extent, one has tendencies towards beginning to speak, act, and write notes, emails, texts, papers, etc, with a verboseness uncharacteristic of the personage in question; however, not at all uncharacteristic of one Sir Humphrey Applebee, Principal Secretary to Prime Minister James Hacker. At time like these, one sees fit to apologize for one's actions, except, of course, when one is in the presence of others who are not altogether against, and indeed, enjoy watching the afore-mentioned extra-curricular television show.
And last but not least, my family has just been extended to include a lovely three month old wire fox terrier, who has yet to receive a name. Everything from Schultz to Bob has been suggested and hashed over, the only problem is, he doesn't seem to prefer one name over the other, and doesn't look like the same thing (name) to any all of us...I'll update you on developments. :)
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