Motivation Not to Procrastinate

I have determined that my love of getting to bed before 1 AM outweighs my willingness to procrastinate.

I am even willing to leave my paper without a conclusion until tomorrow so I can go to bed.

Lesson to be learned: get shit done earlier.

Motivation to Climb

Earlier today an epiphany came to me while ending a beautiful afternoon at Rumbling Bald. It was easily 70 with full sunshine. I can count on one hand the number of times I have been bouldering outdoors in the daylight since the Fall semester began. On two hands I can count the number of times I have been climbing period since then. Setbacks resulting for mysterious hand pain have frustrated me, a hefty school load keeps me exhausted with continual work, and pure lack of motivation has kept me from something I use to love doing.

A gorgeous day after Thanksgiving was just the motivation to get out. My guide book was accidentally left in Boone so I had to do without. All of the boulders that I happened to stumble upon were completely new to me and only leftover chalked up holds were left as my directors. I just climbed. Nobody around. Nobody spilling beta vomit. Quiet. Perfect. All the "problems" took a few tries. But there wasn't any way for me to know the grade, and for ultimately the expectations to get into my head. I didn't care. Sheer excitement of these boulders lying just beyond the popular circuit with such creative and fun movments rare to discover kept me pumped to get back on again and again. No hand pain. No sketchy lands. No pushing for my Umpteenth V-Whatever of the month. Quiet. Perfect.

As I fell onto my pad below a chossy boulder where I made friends with a curious, young black rat snake I thought about how I felt toward climbing. About why I have not pushed myself to go to the school gym. This day, like the problems I climbed, was one in few. It was for days like today that I fell in love with climbing. It was being outdoors, in the curves of a mountainside, with no final goals whatsoever except to try what seemed challenging and groovy. There was no way for me to tell the grade of each problem. Not very high, I know for sure. But also no names to drop to people in casual conversation, so that without admitting my grade they instinctively know by nominal association that yes, I did in fact just climb another V-121 (not a real grade if any non-climbers are reading this). It was just climbing. No competition, even friendly. It wasn't for looks and high numbers. It wasn't for building up awesome abs and stellar guns. It was for me. It was to flush out all of the stress build-up from this semester. It wasn't the instigator of the crushing and twisiting of my soul, it was the alleviator.

The way I felt today reminded me of the owners of the two pads I took with me. Mike Aubrey, who lended his crash pad to me before he left for California, steps out the door looking for an adventure everyday. Whenever I think of him I imagine him nonchalantly strolling into the woods with only necessities on his back accepting whatever path falls below his feet. And then Daniel, who is just as excited for someone climbing outside for the first time as he would be for a stranger climbing cruising up every V10 he/she comes upon. He is one of few that can re-ignite my will to give another go after being shut down continuously in a day. Attitudes like those and that I have seen in them and in very few others recently inspires and motivates me to keep pushing through hindrances and doubts.

As a friend told me once, "I'm not going to go crush. I am going to go climb."

End rant.

How To Move to Thailand...

or possibly How Not to Move to Thailand.

I have never planned my own adventure into another country, and Thailand won't be an easy job. Luckily, I won't have to do the planning alone over these next several months. Planning ahead is not really a forte of mine. I am more of the "up and go" on a whim sort of person but when you expect to find a place to live and a job in a country that is thriving on sex trafficking of women (a huge portion of Thailand's GDP), a little bit of planning is probable in decreasing your likelihood of coerced abduction. As my FCC adventure staff director always says: Proper Prior Planning Prevents Piss-Poor Performance.

Here is what I have discovered thus far in the beginning stages of our process to be in Thailand by the end of this summer:

1. Find a reliable site that gives you information on when to apply for a Visa and what type of shots you will be needing. travel.state.gov is good for any general information on countries including entry and exit requirements, and how to prevent yourself from being arrested by the same cops who promote the sex trafficking of naive, young woman travelers. An appreciated service to have. Also, look at the country's embassy site. The one for Thailand is the Royal Thai Embassy.

2. Figure out generally what you want to be doing and begin to look for opportunities in different regions. Often I have become frustrated with the lack of job openings for my field of study, and once and again I threaten to just show up in Thailand and renew the search. In moments of clarification I realize this is a terrible idea. Even be creative. If you have special skills that you may offer a company look into contacting them about providing you the opportunity to come over and help them out. I started making an Excel sheet of National Parks I would be interested in working for in Thailand and Malaysia (just in case) and will one by one look in to each of them.

3. Start saving money now. It is much less expensive to live over there but you never know what kind of shenannigans might happen while abroad. Expect the unexpected is a popular cliche for a purpose.

That's pretty much it so far. More than likely once 3 weeks prior to take-off rolls around I will be completely re-thinking the efficiency of my planning methods. Plans in the near future are to start learning some of the basic words and phrases, and creating a more in-depth plan.

The thrill of adventure is sneaking up on me.

Seasonal Love

I love when the sun hits Autumn's template
And the way a crisp breeze sweeps through the trees
Scattering leaves into the rush of air
And pursuing to meander
Down toward the earth to rest

As the season advances
And the ground begins to firm
I miss the golden rays of light

But I love when lights reflect off the snow
And how gently a bird's tracks imprint on the soft surface
All is placid and whispered
Only the crunch of footsteps,
Or the flapping of waxwings on ashes,
And the call of a chickadee
Ignite the wisps of air with harmonies

As the season advances
And the ground begins to soften
I miss the smell of choke puffing from chimneys

But I love when the buds shimmy heavy ice from the branches
With promise of magnolia blossoms soon to come
As the ease of green washes over the landscape
Painting flesh over the bare bark
Furnishing shelter for the flocks and choruses

As the season advances
And the ground begins to warm
I miss the whisper of intrinsic beginnings

But I love the sounds of bullfrogs along the lake
And lightning bugs glittering the air
Storms cool with a sweet smell of rain
As thunder soothes my soul to rest

As the season advances
And the greens turn to colors again
I miss the laziness of heat and retreating naps in the shade

There's something perfect in this tulip

There is something quite perfect in this tulip. If you see it from a genetic glimpse, then you see where somewhere in it's germination the DNA faltered. This single red petal is caused by a mutation, and the imperfectness causes it to be different from the dozens of yellow tulips that surround it. Yellow tulips can be said to symbolize "bright thoughts." Red tulips "perfect love." Without this mutation there would only be a sea happy thoughts but instead there is a wave of perfect love as well.

Currently I feel an imbalance in my life. Something is not quite right, and my ability to handle changing environments has faltered. I am missing this red/yellow combination that this tulip has that makes it subtly more perfect than the others. It is a perfect balance.

*this photo was taken in Central Park, New York*

Trawl Net Adventure and Code Purple

Sarah, Amelea, and I (or formally known as "First Flight" or "Sky Island" people) went on an adventure to Wanchese yesterday. More specifically to the Fishing Industrial Park. This was not just a random adventure out, but yet we were looking for a trawl net with the grand idea in mind that we could suspend it from branches and create a "springboard" for our kids on Friday (today).

It took a few phone calls on Amelea's part to find Faron Daniels who runs the Wanchese Trawl and Fishing Supply store. She spoke with him on the phone and he invited her to drop by because of her slow accent over the phone. We ventured out and had an experience that will be kept in our memories for quite some time. Our first introduction to Faron was through a very intense, verbal argument he was having with a customer that had not paid his bill in over a year. Faron firmly told him that if he wasn't making enough money then he shouldn't be fishing. The man angrily left as Faron turned to the three of us, awkwardly posed in old fashioned chairs, and asked, "What do these boys want? Which one of you is Ohio (Amelea)?" He was friendly, in a very southern manner. If you're not from the South then this style of joking is with bold, can be taken as rude, comments from an already burly, inherently intimidating man. He guided us to the warehouse where all of the rope and nets are kept. A skinny dog tied to a rope wagged her tail and growled at us. Very mixed signals. He kept asking what size net we wanted, but we still weren't even sure he was just going to give some to us or if he expected a discounted price. Even when I asked him, he didn't give us a direct answer. In the end, he gave us 20 feet of brand new net, and offered his son up for marriage. We kindly declined and went on our way but not until after he asked us to return for a visit. We definitely are.

The actual net is suspended a couple of feet off of the ground. Although we have fit 7 adults on it at one time the plan was not to have more than 3-4 kids "learning to fly" on it at a time while we spot them from the edges. I can post a picture when I am able to get one.

Today was pretty sad. The smoke from the fire at Alligator River has caused a Code Purple warning. Which is the worst warning. The childcare centers are not allowed to let their kids out of the building because of hazards for children with respiratory issues. Our playwork narrative has been canceled for today, with hopes of re-scheduling for Monday. Everyone is pretty upset that we had to put our excitement on hold for each of our "play habitats", and we have been in front of our computers throughout the morning trying to upload photos and update blogs.

The weekend begins.

Viewpoint of an "IT"

Today our challenge took us into the enemy's territory. We actually had to create an enemy territory. All week we've been protecting ourselves from the mysterious "IT" creatures that lurk everywhere and today we had to place ourselves in their mindset in order to design an "IT" den. I was sort of lost on what to do until I saw Molly digging a "bathtub" in the black, moist mud. This area would be completely uninhabitable if it weren't for the roots of trees holding the earth together. The effect of this causes a vibration in the ground when it is walked/jumped on. So we cleared away the roots while some built a bridge from stray logs across a forbidden stream of mud. Some people have fallen in an ended nearly waist deep in mud.

And it smells. Bad.

What a great day.

Captivated in a world of play

So much has happened in the past few days!! I don't have a lot of free time, nor the energy during any extra half hour to update this. So I find that my list of things we have been doing is backed up pretty far.

Let's start with Friday; the reason I am here! Friday our first group of kids came to play in our play pockets. The Adventure Theater was a success, minus enthusiam from a child or two. But really I cannot say for those kids if they didn't enjoy the experience because perhaps they did. The first group did not have long enough to actually create or act a skit. The second group contained three gung-ho kids, two boys and girl. The girl had an incredibly imaginative mind and created all sorts of stories and a really cool "ant" type creature. The boys made bows and arrows and hunted down here creature in about 20 seconds and proceeded to smash it to pieces. The last group was filled with young girls who were shy and desired to be Indian queens and princesses. They didn't so much as act out characters or roles but I think they enjoyed holding royal staffs and wearing leaf crowns.

The other groups had some really cool things going on with a Bug City, a Fire Escape, a neat mud trampoline, and creating creature masks. Already we have re-grouped and have been conjuring up themes for this Friday's rendezvous in the woods.

I was pretty wiped by the end of Friday. Saturday we rose early to head to the waterside Farmer's Market. There were a lot of homemade crafts and a couple of produce stands. I imagined more people selling fresh shrimp and fish but that definitely was not the case. Still enjoyable. We walked back to the Guesthouse and prepared for the annual Crab Rodeo at Pea Island. Imagine a group of 12-15 college aged kids sitting along shallow, still water each latched to a piece of hemp string tied around a chicken neck. Kara used a plastic bag to "catch" the crabs as well pulled them out of the water and into the cooler. Eventually a car nearby let us borrow one of their nets. Overall we caught 8 big crabs, enough just for a taste. Some went wind surfing afterward, others to a lighthouse, and still more went to the kite flying at Jockey's Ridge. By the time the car with the cooler arrived to the house most of the crabs were dead and still some were dying. It ended as a fiasco and crabs were buried in the backyard.

Kite flying at Jockey's Ridge was phenomenal. We're not talking about tiny little kites you can make at home with tails and other weak sauces. These were HUGE!! There were squids, a whale, a scuba diver, and other various twirling and whirling kites.

Saturday night we ended with live music at a local, and very tiny, bar. There was barely room to fit our group comfortably plus a handful of locals. But we made it work, we are all proving to be comfortable near each other. Terry and Will met a man that takes sunset tours out on a sailboat and promised to take us Sunday night...for no cost!! We rode with other tour folk (several tipsy older couples) and it was one of the most relaxing experiences I've had. Smoke from the smoldering fire surrounded us but it hazed the ugly picture of mansions and hotels along the shore around us.

Yesterday we began Week 2 with Phil Waters, a brilliant playworker for the Eden Project in the UK. Check it out!! They have the largest indoor rainforest and the biomes are all "bubble" shaped to conform with the landscape. We have a narrative that we have been following the last couple of days, dodging and guarding ourselves from a population of "Its" that take the form of anything! My name in "Courterfall" (Waterfall = Courtney) and my powers (inspired by a small piece of the obituary page) allow me to cremate the Its. We're all totally into the narrative and have spent the past couple of days building the most pimped out fort, villages for our Guard Its (just accept it) and beach sculpture.

I am learning so much in a single day between the seminars and interactive sessions! I hate not updating frequently enough that I can do more creative reflection of the things we have done rather than just trying to list all of the things that have been going on. I reflect in excess amounts but we do so much here that most of it comes out.

But however I leave with one thought that occurred to me earlier: When captivated by a moment, where you become completely involved with what is "in hand", you are playing. It doesn't matter if you are in a formal work setting, school, climbing (for me), or whatever else you are playing. And play is a keystone for happiness. Do the things you love. It makes waking up each morning fun.

Status: Still a blast!!

"Today I saw the world differently because..."

I saw it from a picture frame. Literally!

Our first activity this morning (Thursday) had us taking foam boards cut and pieced into picture frames, and then we followed up by finding a stump, or a branch, or a bug, whatever interested us and placing the frame around it. It forced me to look closer to the intricate nature of the environment instead of just "trees and soil." Often I look through a broad scope instead of allowing myself to see details. In a science-y description I see populations not individuals. Today I saw the world as an individual. And I feel that I played with it the same as I had the opportunity to play with Terry and Debi while creating our skit for the "Adventure Theater" (actual name pending).

Everyone's play pockets came together today. In just a few hours everyone transformed the forest into other worlds and places inviting imaginative minds to wander through. I wish I had time to describe them all!

Yesterday (Wednesday): There were several highlights to yesterday. From games with Jess to seeing 6 bears at the Alligator River Wildlife Refuge! Afterward we drove down one of the main roads where the fire initially occurred. Bonnie (who works with the USFWS) describes it as a "moonscape." Some bases of trees still had small flames flickering around the bases. A few of us got out to take pictures which turned into drawing on each other with ashes. As hungry as we all were, it was great for us to take a few moments to play in the woods (what were once tall pines and thick vegetation).

Update about feelings toward the internship: Still incredible. This has gone beyond my expectations of experience and fun.

Tuesday. Day 2!

I've been slacking on taking pictures. My camera is bulky and I've been caught up in all of the activity that I haven't even sat to weigh the pros and cons of taking it to the Gateway site with us. I regret not having it to take pictures of the "Fairy Garden" that Terry, Debi, and I created. It was pretty special. Special in a way that we made it so fantastic that I think if we waited long enough fairies would have started to actually inhabit the area.

So I'm here! In Manteo, an island in the outer banks. It's hot, but honestly not that much more than home. The Alligator River NWR has been fighting a wildfire for the last several weeks that has swept through around 45,000 acres of refuge-owned land. On my way in I noted all of the smoke miles before I even approached the bridge leading to the refuge. The sun behind me, due to the aerosols in the air from the fire, was a blazing and hazy red that hovered over marshy vegetation. It was such a great welcome to the coast!

Everyone here is willing to reach out, play in the woods, bring ideas to the table, and willing to get to know each other. We spent Sunday evening with the sun depleting while walking on the beach and chasing crabs.

Today, as part of an animation seminar, we had the opportunity to explore the woods surrounding our 30x30 tent and entrance trail that we cleared yesterday afternoon (in record fashion). Terry, Debi, and I found a great location that we want to clear out and create a space to build in and an area to relax in. It's the woods! Just some different vegetation and fauna that I am itching to identify. My wildlife interaction has been limited to 2 stray cats that hang around the Guest House and a couple of chattering chickadees fluttering around.

Today threw me back quite a few years, and even to recent memories. I do play in the woods in a much different way than I use to. But I still find a thrill chasing after salamanders in streams and searching for the biggest crawdad in the creek. But now I climb mountains, or hills, or crags, or trees. The trees part is not that different that being a child but the rest is. I appreciate more the environment nature creates to reflect and relax rather than as a place to jump all over, and probably destroy in the long run.

Status by day 2: This place is great all the way down to the people that it consists of. I am learning from those that are overseeing us and the other participants. We're all different, with vastly different backgrounds but connected by how we have been affected by the natural world.

Edit: I rode my bike a couple of miles down to the west end of Manteo Island tonight. I hit the sun as it was setting at the perfect time! I found some treasures along the beach, which also had a shallow canal that followed parallel with the thin shoreline hidden just beyond some tall grass. I also met a man on my way in that gave me a website for a man who is a "real" politician, none of that lying stuff and informed me in casual conversation about how crazy Switzerland is for wanting to suck up the earth in the black hole they nearly created. Anyway, here are some lovely pictures.

Another New Place

I leave tomorrow, after the baptism of my dear cielo, for a long drive to Manteo. It's in the same state, but it is still a 7 hour drive. The same amount of time could also get me to places like the Panhandle of Florida, or Nashville, TN and almost to my family and loved ones in IN and Ohio!!


I leave and there is still much to be done before I go. The past couple of days have been high demand for my constant movement from one place to another, from one activity to the next. It's been fun but oh boy I am tired!


I leave for an internship. Just in case you were at the edge of your seat and wondering why the world I would choose to drive to Manteo the same day as my niece's baptism. But if you are reading this blog you also are probably a person who is close enough to me that you already know. The internship is ultimately through the NWF and USFWS, then through the NC State Design Program, then through 15 of us interns who will be working with several current and future wildlife refuges along the coast to help begin a program that includes activities to excite kids and their families about the environment and its importance. So....it's call Nature Play Corps and you could probably just Google if it you really wanted to.

I am excited to spend a few weeks in woods that aren't WNC mountains. Occasionally I will update on what is going on with the internship, how I think this will affect my future goals, etc. and lots of blah blah blahs involved. So feel free to follow for the next couple of weeks and leave a comment or two on exciting things that may be going on in your life!! (Caroline T you best be updating about Germany CONSTANTLY). Lots of you are doing cool things. I want to know about them!

Late May Summary

I don't really have time to type up some of the more exciting things I've been doing the past couple of weeks. So here is a summary and list of things that stand out:

FCC Father/Son: Spent a couple weekends working Father/Son, co-leading nature hikes and lifegaurding when need. It was a blast! I love camp, and it's nice to be around people who enjoy being outdoors and acting crazy. I was sick the second one I worked so with the heat it was much more difficult to keep that excitement running but really when it comes down to it I always enjoy the time I spend at camp. Whether it is with fellow counselors or some really cool kids, I have a blast! The wildlife at camp is incredible as well with lots of Lady's Slippers, smooth solomon's seals, spice bush, etc. in bloom.

Second Coming at Southside of Looking Glass: Brad and few other new FCC adventure staff picked me up from the Garden Jubilee this past Sunday (a fun time in itself, where I learned so many more things than just being able to name a plant) to go climbing. Brad and I teamed up (he's almost 1.5 feet taller than I am!) to climb the 2 (almost 3) pitches of a popular route called Second Coming. He lead the 5.7, 100 foot pitch, and I lead the 5.5, 200 foot pitch. I am holding in some pride in myself for being a beginner trad climber and handling a pitch that tall! It was not that moves were scary (though there were a few tricky ones) or extremely difficult, it was just that there was not enough gear to put a piece in every couple of feet. So I had to suck it up and run out the rope some. All in all it was fun, and I had a great time catching up with Brad whom I missed dearly since leading trips with him last summer. He has become such a strong and smart climber!

Hiking at Pilot Cove/Slade Rock Creek: I don't have a Pisgah map, but I found the trail I wanted to go on at the Pisgah Visitor Center. I intended for a 10 mile hike at least, taking up at least 4 hours of my day engulfed with the woods. I ended up only hiking about 5-6 miles and the only engulfing going on was the mosquitoes and gnats gnawing on my flesh. No but I very much enjoyed turning off my phone and heading into part of the Pisgah Forest that I feel is most beautiful. The area is around Pink Beds picnic area, down the gravel road just beyond the parking area. I thought the trail I had found on the map at the visitor center would be well-defined but only the trail for Bennett Branch and Pilot Cove had a label. So I picked the one that I thought might be it but I picked the shorter loop, which somehow I diverged off of anyway. The forest was richly green. Tall, thin tulip poplars and maples dominated the forest, leaving room for lush ferns to cover the forest floor. Here is my list of noteworthy Flora that I found and was able to identify:


Mountain Laurel- this obviously was everywhere but the blooms on these were astounding! 15 footers! Huge guys!
Pink Lady's Slipper- just one, past bloom, and big!
Trillium- several, not sure what kind because they had all just completed their blooms
Indian cucumber- new one for me to identify! it has 5 with an umbel arrangement, then a few inches of more stem, and then more leaves that shade a flower hanging beneath.
Squawroot- I really enjoy the way this one grows. Not technically a flower, but grows from decaying material
Halberd-leaved violet- I don't think I actually saw this one, but maybe something close to it. In any way the leaves are toothed like this violet but shaped like the Little Brown Jugs. Just not sure.
Fly Poison- another new one I noticed! the species name muscitoxicum literally means fly poison. It looks like a grass but the bloom is a big long cluster of white flowers.
ALSO: false solomon's seal, smooth solomon's seal, sweet shrub, bloodroot, downy rattlesnake plantain, galax, fire pink, blue-eyed grass

Nursery: I went into Fletcher to pick up some Japanese Maples that Wes had ordered from another nursery. The drive is pretty, but the land the nursery is on is beautiful! He has several acres and lives on the land as well. 3 wet, excited dogs greeted me. After loading in the flats of maples the guy informed me that he had just bought a baby camel and asked if I wanted to meet him. Of course I said yes! So we took off to the barn where he keeps this adorable baby camel that stands about my height. He has a buddy, which is a 6 week old kyloe calf. AWESOME! The camel let me pet him and he rubbed his head on mine and jumped up and down to play with me. He kept sucking on my hand thinking his soon-to-come milk would come out of it. Probably one of the most adorable things I've ever seen. The man also owns 5-6 Sicilian donkeys, which are tiny and are the donkeys thought to have been what Mary rode to Bethlehem on. They have a signature "cross" that runs down their back and across the shoulders. He ALSO has several kyloe (highland cows). They have long hair and horns and are typical beef cows in Scotland. Three of them were standing in a muddy creek in the shade. The cutest cows I've ever seen! On my arrival back to the nursery and preparing to transplant some of the new little maples, I found a female cardinal flying around in the propagation house, which is closed in and huge. I cornered her, caught her, and let her go but she hung out on my finger for a few minutes before taking off. All in all, a pretty sweet day!

In the process of field researching I am discovering the importance of always being prepared. Even when you think you are prepared and have everything down and planned out- you don't. You end up soaking wet in the middle of a field, alone and surrounded by cows.

When we left this morning it was pouring down the rain and 43 degrees outside. I don't think temperatures ever rose and the rain oscillated from pouring to slightly drizzling. Melise and I spent the first couple of hours running through overgrown Christmas tree lots and fields searching for bird boxes. The result was being cold, wet, and frustrated. But okay with it. I then kept a look out for some Second Hand Thrift Store, which never appeared. Luckily we dried off eventually, and the heat in the car was a lifesaver.

Down one of the roads I dropped Melise off to check the first half of the boxes and I drove to the end to work to meet her in the middle. At one box I almost got a beak to the eye, which yeah is a bit of exaggeration but the parents were divebombing me. I would duck down and as soon as I stood back up another would swoop over my head. So I abandoned the box (which is not part of the study. Otherwise, as any good researcher would do, I would risk my life to check the box) and returned to the car and contemplated going back out with my bike helmet on. I didn't. I just moved on. To the right is one of the bluebird chicks just about 12 days old. The can leave the nest about 14 or 15 days old. If I were this little dude's parents I'd be protective too!

A couple of houses down there is a box that is in a front yard and houses two dogs; one is the protector and the other is the peace keeper. It was my third time at this house, and the larger dog usually barks for a little bit but then realizes that we are things she jump on and play with. But for some reason she wouldn't come near me and continued to follow closely behind and growl. The little peace keeper was out of sight for some reason. I succeeded in ignoring her after several attempts to make peace but eventually just left. At the end of the driveway she noticed that I was still around and much too close to her property. She came to the edge of the field to continue to announce her fierce presence. As soon as I got in my car to leave she began chasing me and biting at my front tires. Crazy dog!!

Another protective dad hovered over me and swooped down at my head. The chicks had JUST hatched so I could understand him being protective. But it still freaked the heck out of me so I quickly darted back to the car where I noticed my leg bleeding from getting caught in briars due to my hasty fleeing.

This research is helping me to acquire more professional skills at creeping and making sketchy turn-a-rounds. I am sure the neighborhoods we drive around think Melise and I are up to some sketchy business.

We also saw black-capped chickadee chicks in two separates nests. One they were almost fully developed and the other they were just a day or two old. They are just a few cm long in total length after they're born. Dawwwww...

What a day in the field! Fun. But I am tired. I am also just slightly sick with a sore throat, swollen lymph nodes which causes a lot of pressure in the back of my head. And it makes me sleepy. So, goodnight world!

Super Spectacular Ornithologists Uuuunite!

Melise and I started yesterday with our first day of helping one of the undergrad students with her research project on Eastern Bluebirds. There are about 40'ish bird boxes that have to be checked EVERY day in some of the most beautiful rural roads, fields, farms, etc. Some are given mealworm supplements and some need to be measured every few days for weight. All of this plus extra experiments can take hours a day, so you can see why she needs some help!

Gist: It is aweeesomeeee!

Yesterday we rode around with Amanda and she showed us all of the boxes and how to weigh or band the chicks. Some of the other boxes in addition to the ones related to the study are inhabited by other birds, like tree swallows or nuthatches and so on. Melise and I also kept a lookout of other species as we drove/walked around.

Today this list of special birds includes:
a couple goldfinches
a few brown thrashes
a male cardinal
lots and lots of tree swallows
a white-breasted nuthatch nest
red-tailed hawk flying over us for like, uhhh, 3 minutes!!
and a male house finch

Super cool day. Beautiful weather. Azaleas blooming! and NO classes!!

Nature! And Little Lost Cove

**I wrote this on the boonebeta.webs.com blog, which everyone should totally check out if you are a climber in the Boone area. But here it is on here just for memory's-sake.**

What a perfect day to get outside and climb today! Daniel and I headed to Lost Cove late in the afternoon on a last minute whim but it was such great timing.

This was my first time down to Little Lost Cove, so of course I had a brief run through of the most of the problems and it's cool to see the things that I've heard people talking so much about and projecting. Props to you all for the sweet moves you've made on those! That's some challenging stuff for sure.

I don't think the area could have made any better of a first impression. The view was amazing and the sun aimed perfectly on distant cliffs from the car as we left. The sun shone cooly and there were streams all over the place leftover from the rains Friday night. I felt like I was in a jungle with diverging pools appearing from under huge boulders and looping around them to reconnect and continue down the mountain.

Majority of the problems were dry but Daniel's pad did get a bit wet from having to inevitably lay it down in the streams. By far my favorite problem we worked today (and that Daniel crushed) was a little beta tricky at first. I don't know what it is but it's across from Matt's Prow in that corner where the two boulders meet. It's a low start, out right to a little bit small than a tennis ball sized pocket, out left, and then we figured out that you bump your left on this small ledge and match the right onto then bump straight up to a jug, another jug out right, then top out. I am terrible at expaining problems but if anyone has an idea let me know!

Also, I got to do some geeking out at the amazing wildflowers in bloom today. Upon looking them up I discovered that we found a Large-Flowered Bellwort (as my guidbook calls it) or Uvularia grandiflora. It's leaves look as though they've been peeled back to reveal a yellow, bell-shaped flower that hangs down and is part of the Lily family. We also saw several Cut-Leaved Toothworts(Cardamine concatenata), which have very distinctly shaped leaves and white flowers, and is a part of the mustard family. Apparently if you see pink flowers it is much more rare. Both flowers can be seen here and here. And to top it off we caught a couple of salamanders!! Always fun. They were either Seal salamanders or Duskies. Both look similar. Darn amphibians.

So remember!: If you go out climbing or bouldering respect nature but enjoy it and play in it! If you want to catch salamanders or other amphibious creatures make sure to have dirty and moist hands so they can continue to exchange gases. Interacting with more than just the rocks makes climbing trips better just when you thought it couldn't!!

First 10a lead!

I am too good at procrastination. It is a skill that school has taught me well.

So yesterday, in the midst of ominous winds and increasingly darkening clouds, a couple of us went to the Dump (a small, local crag) to get some climbing in. We warmed up on a 5.6; a climb that Melise first taught me how to lead on and a pretty fun warm-up. Andrew lead Homegrown, a 10a and a climb I've only top roped twice before.

As he climbed I contemplated leading it, or keeping it safe to just top rope it again. I have never been able to climb it without falling and the idea of falling above my last draw was pretty scary.

<---this is me on toprope on Homegrown back in the late fall. It was mildly chilly that day.

So I was convinced eventually to lead it, without having to clip the first draw because I would have been really sketched out by it and would have just turned my back to the entire idea. But I did it! And was completely shocked by it. I mean, I knew I could finish the climb but part of me always wonders how much of toproping is me climbing and how much is the person belaying me keeping me too tight and therefore basically aiding me up the wall. What a perfect first hard lead! Slabby at points, balancy, tiny little rare crystal crimpers (which for some reason I love). I did take a baby whipper. But it actually wasn't bad.

I am ready for the Gunks, which is next weekend ahhhhh!! It may rain, but hopefully it will hold off in New York. I am excited to have an awesome travel/climbing partner plus the promise of staying with Katie and Dustin, who are super strong climbers themselves.

Stoked.

Kleptomaniac of the Toilet Paper Kind

I admit it. I steal toilet paper on a weekly basis from the 1st floor of Rankin Science and sometimes the 3rd floor of the library. I say they pretty much beg you to. They wouldn't just leave it out in the open if they didn't want people to make good use of it than just wiping their bums.

For example, I had a constant supply of tissue when I had my sinus infection a few weeks ago.

Two weeks ago I spilled coffee all over my notebook in class, and had an immediate dabber to dry it up.

Don't you hate those moments when you are using the bathroom to realize that there is no toilet paper left? Not a problem if you have a roll that you carry with you at all times.

I know there are more people out there that do it than just me, so don't pretend like it's not a good idea. Though I'd have to say it's not for those who desire quality out of their toilet paper. But if you want to save a few bucks a month or two and have a college campus readily available to you then lose that pride and snatch a couple of rolls!

Yes, I do realize this is a pointless blog entry.

And I do feel like I have been talking to myself the entire time.

But the last couple of entries have been deeply serious. So here's to living senselessly!

"There's a better home awaiting...

...in the sky, Lord, in the sky." Will the Circle Be Unbroken

You should never leave a situation wishing you had reached out to someone, or even allowed them to reach out to you. You should seize chances to get to know people you are working with and who are a part of something that is big in your life.

Unfortunately I have left a lot of people in my life like this. I have left them in the background of moments that have been an integral part of me. Those people are important to me because I will remember them as key pieces to creating these monents. But did I get to know these people? Do I know their dreams? their passions? what makes them laugh? what pisses them off?

To a dear friend, Jimmy Lewis, I am sorry that I left you as one of these people. You stood out with your humor and charisma. I permitted being shy to get the best of me and I never opened up to create memories with you. But you were a Blackfoot, and last summer I had the chance to be one as well and I believe that connects us. Your knowledge of the woods and ability to allow boys to gain that same appreciation for the outdoors extended into last summer. I was asked all the time where you were and what you were up to and, "Last year, Jimmy one time..." I admired a lot of things about you, but I am sorry that I could never gain that friendship to tell you the good things about you and to laugh at your sarcastic and crazy humor.

We watch people fall out of our lives through death, or disconnection, or from a fight. And we allow them to leave, and sometimes way too easily do we allow them to leave. This is one of my greatest vices. I have let so many go when distance parts us. Don't let this happen. Don't ever regret letting someone slip.

I light a Falling Creek candle in your honor tonight, Jimmy. Rest peacefully.

Surviving Pseudo-City Life on the AppalCart

There are some people in this small town that are fortunate enough that they can walk to campus or downtown in order to enjoy fesitivities. Others live further away, but perhaps still easy biking distance. And still others live just outside that comfort walking/biking zone. At the beginning of the year I was willing to overcome waking up and biking in the sunrise in order to get to campus. Being independent of the AppalCart is a fantastic feeling. You avoid the compacted nature of everyone stiffly and awkwardly attempting to fit in together like we are the cream filling of a twinkie, where the bus is the twinky and we are the filling but not as tasty or nearly as creamy.

But winter has caused me to be lazy and I am pretty sure the extended number of days that my bike was underneath inches of snow has caused some damage to my bike chains. So I've been riding the bus. Even just thinking about the bus as I walk down our apartment hill to the stop makes my heart beat a little quicker and I get really anxious and fidgety. If there were two things that I would be okay living without it would be crowded small spaces and lines. Of course nobody likes either of those things but my extreme distaste for them is more correctly defined as abhorrence, loathing, if crowds and lines were a magnet we'd all be norths...that is to say we'd repel each other. But as I said, I have become quite lazy and my backpack so full it would be as if I were riding a bike with a bear on my back in some circus stunt.

My feet don't touch the ground comfortably when I sit and I can't reach the overhang bar when I stand. If I am not fighting an overwhelming feeling of nausea I am whapping some poor unfortunate person with my overweight backpack. Today alone I fell over once, and then thrusted my chest into a girl's face while trying to move so a guy could get to the exit. I've chased after two buses simultaneously in a dress and missed them both. I've ran to catch up to a bus, thought I was near the "oh hey there is a girl about to get on" zone, and had the bus leave as I was walking up to it-three times. The Express Route that I take home runs by a certain point at :57 after which just seems to be the exact time I reach it, or if I am unlucky enough just miss it.

I have had a few fortunate times where I make it to the stop right as the bus arrives and I feel that I have gained some feat over the system that seems to so flagrantly be trying to leave me behind. And sometimes at the right point in the evening I am one of few on the bus, and it is raining and cold, and I am warm and alone with the seat that has a hump so I can perch my feet. It feels like I should be in a scene of a movie where a lonely girl rides the bus across the country in order to find herself and she is gazing out of the water-dropped windown deeply into the horizon as the bus takes off down urban roads. But really I am in Boone and only riding for 10 minutes to a place that is 2 miles away. Reality is not as epic.

What do I take from this? I would probably die if I lived in a big city. My lacking in "street smart" and bus savvy would have me lost for hours, days, or months!

***on an unrelated side note: I am starting to feel the pressure of my classe weighing oh so heavily down on me. It wouldn't be too bad if my tests were at least spread out. How have I been handling this chaos of events occurring through the nerves in my brain? I have been secretly harboring an envious annoyance with people who are getting to skip classes or do not have anything else they need to do but go outside and climb or hike. Oh, I'd love to. But I have three tests and a midterm next week and for the first time in my life I think I need a tutor. I'm not coping as well as I'd like.

Valentine Jubilee

Currently I am really suppose to be in Evolutionary Biology. Instead I am sitting in the apartment listening to Elijah Bossebroek, drinking peppermint tea flavored with dark chocolate, with a heating pad on me belly. It is excellent.

With Valentine's Day creeping it's curly haired Cupid little cherubim head around the weekend corner I can't help but to think about where I was two years ago from this Feb. 14. In high school, Valentine's Day marked the beginning of a much anticipated soccer season (and candy). In college I just dreaded it and looked forward to eating the candy. Pretty sure I spent last Valentine's Day alone in my dorm room eating, you guessed it, candy and watching the movie "Valentine's Day". Super.

But if you want to hear about how I really feel about the day, go to my other blog. This blog is for the one true week that I took off from school and went on a mission trip with a small group to Honduras. I wrote about the trip in a blog that I use to have and have since abandoned. So this is a copy/paste and slightly edited version of what I wrote 2 years ago:

How do I place 8 days of something purely awesome into just a journal entry? I have pages and pages of thoughts in my journal I took with me to Honduras. Unfortunately (but really not unfortunate at all), about 2/3 of the pages in my notebook were ripped about to supply Noe and I with coloring paper and prescription paper for Doctor Marcus. I know I have overlooked several thoughts and emotions that were once fresh and alive in my mind and now quiety lounge back in my brain somewhere. Every now and again those rush of emotions will re-appear as nostalgia will one day hit me.

I left for Honduras on Valentine's Day. I wouldn't have wanted to express love in any other way. Other than two 10-year old kids, I was the youngest in a group of 5 with four men from their 30s to 60s. I felt just a little out a place. Just a little. The most spirttually immature of the group (besides Junior and Patience) and the most naive in the ways of the world and missions. This was my first medical related service trip and I have had to adjust my personal views of "missioning" for lack of a better words, to cater to this specific trip. In most cases, I would say we should go in to create a way for the people to eventually be independent of our presence in their community. But medical missions is a different case. It is a constant need that cannot be healed by occasional trips throughout the year via churches supporting CMCH (the organization we went through). It demands constant funding for medications and delivering aid to the communities in the mountains that are more deprived and remote. A trip to Tauble for these people is half a day there and back, if one can find a ride.

I also learned about myself and my future goals and confusions with pursuing either the medical or ecological field. Being set in a place so tropical and ecologically rich, and seeing it so trashed with wastes throughout each village made such an impact on my views. I spent a larger portion of my thoughts about ways to organize trash pick-ups within the communities and education on the importance of keeping water sources clean. Honestly very little of it was spent on the medical service at hand. Although the extent of my wildlife experiences there were the large venues of vultures, what may have been a king snake, a bat cave, and the nocturnal croaks of geckos, I got excited about exploring forests higher up and discovering what kind of biodiversity Honduras could offere and how I could use that to improve their conditions; medically and economically.

They were irreplaceable. They were kind and patient with my very basic conversational Spanish. They hugged and smiled and made you feel as if this was your home. And I did feel as if I were home. The combination of mountains and the simplicity of life overwhelmed me. Sitting on the front porch with Martha's family around me, Armando playing in the dirt, I felt like I fit. There was the appreciation of everything offered in life and the unsurpassing beauty that surrounded and embedded into me. Their love for God is adamant. Every statement praising God was followed by "Allelujiah!" and "Dios te bendiga" was welcomed with a true gratitude and "Amen."

I was frustrated at frist. Within CMCH there seems to be disagreements and a dire need to refocus. Just within our small group, that was formed by 3 separate NC churches, there were disputes and questions on the right way to mission to the people of the villages we visited. I began to question with so many different faiths how do we know the right way we can truly love and show love? How do we allow others to let us in so we know truly what is best and not what we think is best? It weighed heavily on me throughout one of the days and then Yobanny preached that night in Ocoman. The grace of Ocoman swept over me in the day as well as at night. Up high in elevation I felt as if I was in a crystal globe looked up at the stars that arched overhead. Yobanny preached (the entirety in Spanish) repeating several times, "Quien puede parar el amor del Cristo?" (Who can stopl the love of Christ?) And his words there and following his sermon spread through my entire body instantaneously. I could literally feel it. It doesn't matter to worry about how we can show love. If we simply allow ourselves to and with a transparent heart, then love will be evident and it will illuminate. A burden lifted off. I could already see it in the people we met in Honduras. Martha, whom I had only talked with briefly even had a tone of love and joy in her voice when she spoke. The way she smiled at me while I played with Armando and Blanca, and invited me to Blanca's birthday party after only meeting me once, and preparing a meal for us after leading us with her family to the coolest cave ever. It every action she had love beaming right through. This was the same for so many others.

Why can't we feel that here? How do I come back to the United States and somewhat lose that sense of compassion for each other? Love is perverted here. We are mindful to express emotion and care for one another. I am soooo guilty of that. I want to work on my own expression of love and not to fear to love unconditionally. Reciprocated feelings don't matter, we just need to 100% care for each other!

We reached over 300 people in the 3 areas where we opened up a clinic in. It required a lot of medicine and more was needed. I was ambushed at one point for toothbrushes and toothpaste. Let me repeat that...toothbrushes...and toothpaste. I was mauled by 60 kids who were so proud to have one of their choice color and to sweetly ask to get some for their more timid siblings. Children without teeth even held out their hand for one! It was incredible.

I love how God is creative. The way He works is mysterious. It has never ceased to boggle my mind no matter what spiritual level I am at. And I absolutely adore his artwork. Sunsets and sunrises, mountains, vegetation, rivers and waterfalls, every piece of nature. These are my favorite things: creativity and overwhelming beauty of overlooking a village from the top of a mountain in another country and feeling right at home.

Secret Birthday not so Secret Anymore

February 6, 2008:
"Hello?"
"Courtney, hey! How are you doing?"
"I'm alright, how are you?"
"Not bad. I heard about Caroline's mom and I wanted to call you and see if you're doing okay."
"Oh. Yeah. I am alright thanks. I think I am going home tomorrow. I appreciate your call."
"Absolutely. Just let me know if you or Caroline need anything."
"Thanks, again and I will let you know. Bye."

As I hung up the phone I thought to myself, "She didn't wish me a happy birthday." That was when narcissism slapped me in the face. No, it didn't just slap me, I was knocked breathless by it. As soon as the thought dissipated, even for as brief as it felt, I wondered how I could even care what day it was when one of the people I shared Epworth by the Sea, hill excursions, and Salkehatchie memories with had just lost her mom only 24 hours before.

In the months before my mom had been keeping me in constant update of Susan's health. As soon as she knew something I knew. Once and again Caroline and I would touch base but we did not talk about how she was feeling much of the time. She was still a senior in high school and I was a freshman at GC and we were separated by 3 hours and busy schedules. I often looked to her and stood back in amazement at how completely understanding, calm, and strong she and her entirely family were. By January, Susan's months had turned into just weeks, and soon those to only days. My heart sank when I received an online message from Caroline revealing all the fears that a daughter would experience from losing a parent. Only a year ago had she held me late into the night as I cried. She said to me then, "I wish I could carry the pain for you." It was when I received that message that I discovered what she had meant that night. I wanted so badly to take that hurt off of her shoulders. She was carrying more weight as the oldest sister than anyone could see. As my birthday drew closer, and Susan's health declined, my friends would ask what I wanted for my birthday and I had no material possession in mind.

I wanted a reverse of events. I wanted for a miracle. For her to get better. For somehow her declination to abruptly stop and her cancer to be swept away. I had seen her just a couple of weeks before she passed and even though she was tired, she still smiled bright and genuinely to ask me about school and life. It was inspirational. That is how she was. Inspirational and determined.

February 5, 2008:
I was at a small concert for one of GC's events with my friend Tony. Mom called on my phone and I knew she was relaying more news. Susan had passed away and I sank to the ground, hidden behind a column. Back in my dorm room I read aloud portions Lamentations 3 to a couple of friends that were with me.

"I have been deprived of peace;
I have forgotten what prosperity is...
I remember my affliction and my wandering,
the bitterness and the gall.
I well remember them, and my sould is downcast within me.
Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:
Because of the Lord's great love we
are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning.
Great is your faithfulness."

Susan was countless number of things to hundreds of people. She was loved as an elementary school teacher, as a co-worker, as the Pastor's wife and active member of the church and community, as a friend, mother, and so on. Susan played several roles and she played them with every bit that was embedded and instilled in her. Her death was also several things for different people. For me, it re-defined a day: my birthday. It has become a day that I do not want to celebrate for myself. I want to do something for another person, or withdraw myself from my everyday lifestyle and reflect. I have attempted this the past couple of years and it somewhat gets backfired. This year, I have it all planned. Initially, I wanted to disappear all day (which is a Sunday) and keep the whole thing secret until after February 6 was over. But as I masterminded the entire day I came to the realization that if I do not share what I learned from Susan's death, then what was the purpose of learning it at all?

So here I am, encouraging everyone to find a day of the year. One day. And commit it to doing something for the betterment of this world. Do it for someone you knew and loved, or do it for yourself.

I am still disappearing for a few hours on Sunday but I am no longer keeping it a secret. So here is my super secret day, don't tell anyone...

*Wake up and watch the sunrise on the Parkway and take pictures. Write. Reflect. And allow myself to become completely absorbed in the moment.
*@ 11 I have an orientation to start volunteering at the Hospitality House in downtown Boone. I think I also will get to begin actively volunteering that same day.
*After that, I dunno. Soccer, short walk, reading and coffee in Beanstalk. I'm not sure. But I do have a meeting at 6 so I can't take up too much time.

I invite you with me.

other blog...almost called it an "otter" blog

I made up another blog---> visit here

I did this, well, the blog explains why I did this. I even made it look really girly and frilly because I feel it makes the blog seem less serious that way. Actually, I didn't intentionally make it look that way but I don't plan on changing it anytime soon so I am compelled to make up for the way it looks.

Bahahaha, the link I originally typed in was "aheartsjourney" which has an 's' that doesn't belong and to result was some poem overwhelmingly bordered by butterflies and glittery designs. I didn't even read the poem because I was so taken over by all the bright colors.

SPEEDO (the cat not the bathing suit brand)

Melise just introduced me to a very creepy video of a cat stalking someone holding a camera. It is one of the scariest things I have seen in a long time. If you can't tell by watching the video and then reading that statement, I don't watch a lot of scary movies.

The video reminded me of my cat Speedo we had when I was younger, in elementary school I think. Generally, he was an outside cat and would come inside when he pleased or at night. Kind of a bigger cat, hairy, soft, every child's joyous plaything. Except mine.

I can't recollect when or why he started it, but Speedo had this thing where he would stalk me from behind a large object; couch, doorway, whatever he could hide behind. It was as if he was honing his wild cat instincts and using me as a potential prey. I would be all the way down the hall in the living room and would see light reflecting off of his eyes just beyond the doorway of a dark room. He ONLY did this to ME. His eyes would focus in on my leg, and I'd freeze immediately. I thought maybe if I stood completely still he would become disinterested. That perhaps it was the kill he wanted to go in for. I was wrong. There was no escaping him.

Sometimes I could get in a warning call to Mom or Dad before the attack happened and they would swoop in to rescue me. Other times, not so lucky and I was in for a battle. Being home alone with Speedo was terrifying.

But I would see him, crouched down, like a tiger preparing to dig his claws deep in his prey. If I ran it just instigated the aggressive ambush. And really where could I run to? If I could make it to another room and shut the door, he would just wait for me to come out and it would just delay the inevitable. So I had to prepare myself and face him. Young and scared.

The stance was always recognizable. He'd crouch, maybe creep a few steps closer, and wiggle his butt. Then, he'd briefly freeze; the eye of the storm. And within a flash he would charge towards me and latch himself onto my leg as I screamed in pain with his claws and teeth buried in my skin. My dad would come out of nowhere with a rolled up newspaper and hit him with it as I shook my leg as if it would urge him to let go.

Speedo wasn't always a jerk to me. I liked him. He was my kitty. Every little girl loves her own kitty. So you can imagine being scarred by an animal you love dearly and never thought twice would betray you. But he did. And it was awful.

We always kept rolled up newspapers in places where the most frequent attacks occurred.

"Love is the basic stuff of life." C.T. Vivian

I heard Reverend C.T. Vivian speak last night on campus. He is a man who has probably seen more violence in his 60 or more years peacefully fighting racism (he is 86) than most people have experienced in their lives today. He has stood alongside Dr. M.L.K., Jr. throughout his career prior to his assassination. He has met a lot of hate, a lot of violence, a lot of fear. But he has never succumbed to these things. His love for people was evident the moment he walked on the stage, smiling and waving. He looked no different than I would expect my own grandfather to resemble but my first reaction before he even spoke a word was that this was a man who instills passion into others to be better. He made me feel that way just by the same genuinely joyous smile he presents in the picture to the left.

We meet few people like that in our lives. People who have so much love and compassion that just their presence makes you want to give for others. I believe the person you spend the rest of your life with should also be of this nature. I also believe a lot of things about romantic love but I have not experienced this emotion in a very long time. So what do I know? But I am digressing....

Rev. Vivian came to campus to speak about Dr. King and the way he presented him was with astounding humility despite his own great accomplishments through the course of his life and fervent admiration for Dr. King. I feel that he might be the closest to the Dalai Lama I will ever have the privilege of listening to. And it was fantastic. He never dwelled on the "awe" shocking things that may have happened to him, but on the love from himself, Dr. King, and others that persevered for people of all kinds. A girl asked him how Dr. King could have kept the MOTIVATION to always speak to others, answer questions, and remain patient. Rev. Vivian's response, though drawn out much longer, was basically that he just loved people too dang much.

"Radical love," he said, "is the only thing that can defeat radical hatred."

El Dia Que Me Quieras

This is the sweetest song of all time. Of course it's in Spanish and written about 50 years ago. Just makes it all the more wonderful. I apologize for not having appropriate accents over letters. For some reason I can't just copy and paste the lyrics over.

By Carlos Gardel

Acaricia mi ensueno It caresses my dream
el suave murmullo the soft whisper
de tu suspirar. of your sigh.
Come rie la vida How life laughs
si tus ojos negros if your black eyes
me quieran mirar. want to look at me.
Y si es mio el amparo And shelter is mine
de tu risa leve from your delicate laughter
que es como un cantar, that is like a song,
ella aquieta mi herida that eases my wound
todo todo se olvida. everything is forgotten.

El dia que me quieras The day that you love me
la rosa que engalana the rose that adorns
se vestira de fiesta will dress from celebration
con su mejor color. with its best color.
Y al viento las campanas And to the wind the church bells
diran que ya eres mia will say that you are mine
y locas las fontanas and the crazy fountains
se contaran su amor. will tell of their love.

La noche que me quieras The night that you love me
desde el azul del cielo, from the blue of the sky,
las estrellas celosas the jealous stars
nos miraran pasar. will watch us pass by.
Y un ravo misterioso And a mysterious ray
hara nido en tu pelo will be nested in your hair
luciernaga curiosa que veras curious firefly what you will see
que eres mi consuelo. that you are my comfort.

El dia que me quieras The day that you love me
no habra mas que armonia. there won't be anything more than harmony
Sera clara la aurora the dawn will be cleared
y alegre el manantial. and happy is the spring.
Traera quieta le brisa The breeze will quietly give
rumor de melodia. rumor of melody.
Y nos daran las fuentes And the fountains will give us
su canto de cristal. their crystal song.

El dia que me quieras, The day that you love me,
endulzaran sus cuerdas sweetening his chords
el pajaro cantor. the bird sings.
Florecera la vida Life blooms
no existira el dolor. pain will not exist.

La noche que me quieras The night that you love me
desde el azul del cielo, from the blue of the sky,
las estrellas celosas the jealous stars
nos miraran pasar. will watch us go by.
Y un ravo misterioso And a mysterious ray
hara nido en tu pelo. will nest in your hair.
Luciernaga curiosa que veras Curious firefly what you will see
que eres mi consuelo. that you are my comfort.

I love you, dad.

January 7, 2011. It is my dad's 60th birthday.

I meant to write one of these for my mom's birthday at the end of December but we spent the days after Christmas and until her birthday in Ohio where we did not have internet, and I left my computer at home. So before I continue on I want to give a huge "I love you!" to my mom as well for the way our relationship has changed and grown over the past 22 years. I will most likely commit a post to her another time.

My dad is a writer and a poet, a good one, and I feel this is an acceptable way to express my adoration for him.

The title of my blog is "Shaping Motivation". Often times people lose their motivations over a course of years for the passions they once held. You have been teaching/coaching for 36 years and still love what you do. All of your students feel it and your co-workers enjoy working with such an honorable man each day. When I was younger you juggled being a committed English teacher, a coach of multiple sports, manager of a pizza place, and father of 3 complex girls; all in one day. This blog is titled after the Dalai Lama, but if there were ever anyone that applied his wisdom to their lives it is you. For today, this blog is dedicated for the motivation that is shaped in your heart and that is working itself through mine to be the best in my commitments.


For having three daughters, you always found time to dedicate to each of us to make us feel like we were/are more special than the other two. I could boast for all the soccer games you drove me to, all the times we went over proper positioning on the soccer field with salt and pepper shakers and napkin dispensers in the middle of a restaurant, helping me practice ("Practice, practice, practice. And when you're sick of practicing, keep practicing."), my first guitar, reading over papers and working on science projects, reading to me and staying with me until I fell asleep. Any interest I ever expressed you found some way to encourage it. When I went through my scuba diving phase you bought me a "How To Scuba Dive" book though I never committed to taking any lessons. As I grew an interest in international service trips you said that I needed to take self defense classes first. Just a couple of weeks ago you showed up with a used climbing book for me, and even if you don't realize it it shows me that you are concerned about things I love doing and want to see me succeed no matter what the cause is. I could boast for several things, things that made me feel that I stood apart from my older sisters and that I was the daughter you preferred to hang out with. I could boast for these but I know that you made Brittany and Chelsea feel the same way as they grew up. For this, you are an incredible father.

Your passion and commitment for everything exudes and spreads into others. I have been learning from you since I had short, boy-cut hair and had to almost run to keep up with your stride (which I also tried to copy). I watched you give money to others; some you barely knew, some good friends. One time I think you gave a man you had just met a few dollars because your charisma and care for other people allow others to feel they can confide in you, even in first encounters. I cannot count the number of words I have heard in respect and adoration towards you as a coach, friend, and teacher. Sometimes my only response is to say, "He is the same as a dad too."

I have strived to be as much like you as I could throughout the years. To care for other people. To give to others. To live to my passions. To write. To seek wisdom. To hold a calm heart. To appreciate the things you have been given, good or bad, and to make out of them what best you can. You take things in and look past the superficial. You strive to better yourself even though in my eyes you are perfect. You have shown examples by actions and words.

In high school once when I was teary eyed from a silly break-up you took me in and jokingly said to me, "You only need me in your life anyways." I laughed. As I look back on all my past relationships no guy could stand next to you in character. As I have grown older, it has become more important to me to find someone that will be as good of a man as you are. This makes it difficult sometimes because there really are few like you, but I know in the end it will be worth the wait and the opportunities I will have to grow in my own way.

Thank you, dad, for all of these things. Most importantly thank you for allowing me to realize that even though sometimes I demand independence and to be free-spirited, I will always know that I will make mistakes and need to remain somewhat grounded. Please know that none of my actions in the past have been in vain. I have learned and sought out answers and ways to be a better person for others though I have so much growing still to be accomplished. I recognize and appreciate how difficult it must be for you and mom to step back sometimes and let me continue on, often without direction. As a parent you want to always protect me and I hope I can keep that trust and complete blind faith that I suspect you must have in me, even though sometimes I feel I do not rightfully deserve them.

I love you, dad. For the person you are and for the person I have become because of you.

My sister Chelsea had one of her creative ideas and decided that each of us would write 20 things we love about dad. 20 x 3= 60. This is my 20...I deleted them before he got a chance to read them for his birthday.