Backtracking, aka Copy and Paste Part I

I originally started jotting down thoughts as my summer officially began back in May, but it's just taken me awhile to get around to this stage of the "start a blog" plan.  After graduation I spent some time in the Kansas countryside house-sitting for my relatives.  To go from end-of-the-semester madness to a tranquil location with no cell phone reception and shaky internet connection was...jarring.  Kind of like riding down a steep hill on your bike, when you're flying along just barely under control and then you hit a rock.  After a tumble through the air, you land on your backside and then you're forced to look up and realize how pretty the sky is that day.  Or something like that.

I've done the ol' copy and paste of a summary of my first week out of graduate school:

Day One: Actually did sunrise salutations with the sunrise! I tramped (well, more like skipped) out to the edge of the open meadow that is my uncle's backyard and lay down my mat. I only know a little yoga, and my bare feet quickly got cold, but there was a moment standing there with my arms outstretched feeling the warmth of the sun beat away the chill of the morning and settle on my face; I felt my heart finally quiet and before I knew it I was smiling with my eyes closed, face first into sunshine. Sadly, it's been awhile since a moment of peace like that has found my way into its life, so long in fact that I didn't know how to react and suddenly felt selfish for trying to make such a moment last. So I did what I also do when I feel on the verge of overwhelming happiness - I opened my eyes and found something else to do. Besides, I can hear the rooster crowing from the coop letting me know the chickens are up and ready to come outside, too. Maybe tomorrow I'll be able to let myself linger a little while longer in the sunrise.

Reenactment of joyous moment in a Kansas sunrise

Day Two: Something about the wide open space just makes you want to run. The dogs love to go tearing through the yard at breakneck speed, and I find myself running everywhere, too. I run to go let the dogs out, I run to the chicken coop, I ran to the middle of the meadow just because I could. I can't decide if I feel that urge to run because of the exhilaration of running for the sake of running, or because I'm still used to being in a perpetual time crunch, where there were never enough hours in the day and I'm running because I still feel the need to get as much done today as possible.

I was thinking on this as I ate my breakfast of a fried egg sandwich (from eggs collected last night) and coffee on the deck, watching an Eastern wood pee-wee eye me suspiciously. I love lingering over breakfast, but there always comes a time when I have to sigh, and say to myself, 'Okay Em, you have things that need doing, let's go,' and then I launch myself into classes, reading, studying, errands, and the all around business of keeping my life together. As I leaned on the railing of the deck, mug in hand with the last swallow of coffee, the familiar sigh and thoughts of *getting a move on* came into my head and I turned to get my plate to head inside to do...what? TO DO WHAT?

I have nothing that needs doing.

Panic set in, the same panic I felt after my Sublime Sunrise moment of peace and happiness. Keep breathing, chores will come to you. Okay, I have laundry to do, I want to walk around the property...and I'll need groceries, and I told my parents I'd go over to Hutch this afternoon. Whew, okay. Calm returns.

Am I now incapable of having a day of doing nothing? Have I lost the ability to sit and stare out across a meadow with no other thought besides "Gosh that's pretty," in my head? I don't think so. I think I'm just rusty at it, so I'll apply myself to relearning this skill with the same dedication that I applied to my classes. My goal for this week: Spend one entire day doing nothing.

Day Three: Goal of doing nothing not going well.  BUT, the somethings that I am doing are just happiness-inducing.  I met up with my mom for lunch in Newton at the Prairie Harvest.  It has to be one of my favorite places to eat and shop for edible goodies!  Check out my haul:

Yummies in my tummy

Turns out the rest of the week I spent out there was a blissful blur of fresh eggs, good books, a sunburn, daily battles with a rooster (and the lingering beak-shaped scar on my foot to prove it) and several naps. I spent another week in Kansas after my house-sitting gig was up...then it was off to the Driftless.

The view from Hanging Rock at Effigy Mounds National Monument, which is
one of my favorite haunts...

Next installment: Life in the Driftless...an abbreviated version.

So it begins...

How to begin?

I’ve always been a big fan of bullet points, and since most of what follows will be meandering, abstract, and/or nonsensical thoughts, perhaps it’s best to get a few concrete facts down:

*I have a hard time remaining in one location. Even during the times when I have a mailing address of my very own, I tend to bounce around (my personal record: from February 2010 to March 2011, I never stayed anywhere for a continuous 3 weeks before taking a trip somewhere).

*My current location is in what is referred to as the Driftless Area, a place along the upper Mississippi in southwest Wisconsin and northeastern Iowa, and is a place I seem to migrate to every summer. After graduating from college I lived and worked here for a year before going to graduate school. Now that I’ve graduated with my MA, I’ve returned for the summer as usual. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

*I live in my cousin’s basement and love every minute of being a part of her chaotic household. Between five energetic kids, five dogs, and three puppies, there is never a dull moment. Considering the fact that a part of me still dreams of one day having a household as full as hers, I take constant mental notes of how she keeps everything together.

*I love my job. My official title is “Natural Resources Interpreter,” and if they made this position a permanent deal, I would happily stay in my cousin’s basement forever. An average day includes at least one hike through beautiful bluff country that’s packed with warblers, woodpeckers, oak and hickory trees, spring-fed streams, and all the cool fresh air a girl could ask for; my day also involves a lot of coffee drinking and talking about anything from the types of trees in the park to the best restaurant in the nearby towns to what the big lumps of dirt are on the ridgetops (answer: Native American burial and ceremonial mounds, if you have two hours to spare I can tell you more than you ever wanted to know). On weekends I lead hikes and bird walks and sometimes a kids’ activity all meant to convince people that nature is awesome and we should be more aware of how we're connected to the other lifeforms on this beautiful planet. All this set a stone’s throw from the Mississippi (no exaggeration, the drive to work includes a stretch of road where I could reach out one side of the car and touch the bottom of a 400 foot bluff and have a drop off into the river on the other side). Fantastic.

So why do this blog? Because I’ve reached a point in my life where it’s hard to keep everyone updated, and mass emails means I forget people. That’s the practical reason. The other reason is that I’ve also reached a point in my life where I’ve developed a fear of forgetting. I have a really awesome life, and I’ve met some really awesome people, and I’ve had some pretty awesome experiences…and if I know nothing else for sure, at least I know this: I don’t want to forget any of it.

So here goes.