Lessons in Procrastination (By way of Yardwork)

After my run this morning, I decided to pull out the ol' lawnmower and attack my grass-cutting chore. I am not going to lie: it has been nearly a month since I have mowed. Unfortunately, lawnmowing is a chore that does not get easier with time. Every day I ignore the fact that my yard has, in fact, become a jungle the chore becomes increasingly more difficult to conquer. It is not something that I can mentally overcome, neither.

I bounded home after my successful morning 3 mile run, ready to throw on a pair of jeans and get productive this Monday morning. Bring on the yardwork! Between mowing and "gardening"* I figured I would be outside approximately an hour. My lawn usually takes me 45 minutes with my push mower and I was only going to do minimal work in my garden.** It took me a solid 15 minutes and a series of grumbled expletives to get the %^$# thing started (because I have neglected my yard duties for so long.

After I finally got it started, I started charging through my backyard jungle. Vrrrommsmmch(clunk!). Silence followed by another string of grumbled expletives. Stupid almost-knee high grass. Whose fault is that? Mine all mine. I shall overcome. So I cranked up my iPod and tried again.

You know that first-grade haircut that happens upon one's discovery of fiskers' ability to chop one's own hair? That is what my lawn currently looks like. I believe another word for that would be "hack job." And that planned hour turned into two and a half hours without any real work in my garden (minus the four tomatoes I gathered). Eesh. So much for productivity.

I would like to turn this yard lesson into a "life lesson." You know, that dreaded question: So, how's the thesis coming? Procrastination is a skill I have mastered. I think I know if I pull out my thesis-y stuff it is going to appear between knee- and waist-high, tangled and thick. It may take me a while to start my engines (and, yes, there will be expletives). But between training for a half marathon, working like a maniac, helping create costumes for a historical production in August, "gardening," mowing my stinky lawn, and just living my life to the best of my ability, I have a hard time bringing myself to pull out my research and writing.

I will get there. You'll see. And again, I will overcome. It may turn into a hack job, but it will get done.


*Another blog entry entirely on my "garden" due soon...

**Again, that blog entry about my gardening skills or lack thereof is well over due.

Props to the New Girl

I went to the dentist this morning to get my teeth cleaned. Besides the shortness of the visit (which made me very happy), the new hygienist kept the spit-sucking straw nearby so I never become a human fountain. This I appreciate. So props to the new girl. She probably doesn't even know how she made a difference in my day by just doing a good job at her job. And that is my thought for the day.

Even at 25 (You've Got To Start Sometime)

"Are you going to live your life standing in the back, looking around? Are you going to waste your time? You gotta make a move or you'll miss out." ~Jimmy Eat World

I sit here, thinking about all I have done and thought over the last two weeks that I could write about.

But.

I am tired. I don't want to dwell on my past two weeks. Today is like my Friday. I have tomorrow and Monday off (and a dentist appointment on Monday- yuck). I am going to pop in a movie and probably fall asleep early so I can wake up early and go for a run before it hits 85 or 90 degrees (which means before 7:30am...). And then I may actually pull out some of my reading for my thesis.

[cue record screeching noise]

That's right. Thesis. For those who know me, they know that my response to the question, "how is your thesis coming" is mirthful laughter. I have been avoiding writing like some people avoid touching sharp edges or jumping off of tall cliffs. I think I struggled with an identity thing: I hated being a student. I wanted to be all park ranger and no grad student. But recently a number of things have happened that have encouraged me to at least visit my thesis. I am still in my program and that makes me a student whether I like it or not (I also have to pay for graduate hours whether I like that or not). I make no guarantees, but I feel like I am in a place where I no longer need to run away from finishing. I just need to finish so I can get a job. Hopefully, a job in the Pacific, either here or here, but I trust I will go where I need to be.

summer rain

One of my favorite smells in the world happens as a summer rain hits hot pavement. It is part moisture, part cloud, part dirt, part heat, and all awesome. I think I was seven years old the first time I cognitively remember noticing and appreciating that smell. We lived in El Paso, Texas and were playing outside as the sun was sinking. In a rare happening for the desert, it started to sprinkle. I remember my dad standing on the driveway, taking a deep, exaggerated breath, and proclaiming his love of that smell. Growing up in the Northeast, he was accustomed to more moisture and probably appreciated any extra water whenever it happened while we lived in the desert. Ever since then, I took extra delight in summer rains.

Today has been full of summer rain in Middle Tennessee. The morning started with scattered showers. Later, a two-minute downpour was followed by the bright sun to absorb the puddles. Even later, a ten minute sprinkle fell so light, the downward motion deceived my eyes. I knew it was raining because the sidewalks told me so, but I could hardly see the drops. Regardless of what my eyes told me, I could smell summer hanging in the air.

And pure elation followed.

Uncommon Valor (remains) a Common Virtue

I have been meaning to post, I promise. I feel the longer between posts the more I have to say to catch up, to explain, to sort out. So I will pretend to start afresh. Forget what I have written and I will just start each day new. That way, you don't think I am crazy when things seem to change or turn around so fast.

I am not going to write much today. I attended a Memorial Day service at Stones River National Cemetery, hosted by the VFW. Each of the over 7,000 headstones in the cemetery have an American flag placed in front of it. I love to see autumn leaves encompassing the stones and light snowfalls dusting the cemetery can be breathtaking. But seeing the thousands of flags is amazing. Pausing to understand what each represent can be overwhelming.

It is interesting to see the flags that have been placed for Memorial Day in a cemetery that was established for Civil War soldiers. Memorial Day originated as Decoration Day and that day of remembrance was established out of the mass numbers of soldiers buried after the Civil War. Those men did not return home 150 years ago in the same way many men and women service members do not return today.

A friend of mine (a 70-year old retired Marine- I love Mr. Bob) emailed this to me and I think it is fitting for the weekend.



I like this one, too.

This is how I feel

And I am ok with that

Sing it, James

I may have the option to create a digital exhibit in lieu of writing a third chapter for my thesis. I think I would like that. I would like to continue working on interpretive media for the stories I continue to research. I would like these stories shared beyond the bound pages of my thesis, sitting on a library shelf. I would also like to learn the technology to create digitally-based projects, as I think that will be a useful skill-set for my future.

Alas, I don't currently have the skill-sets needed to create the website. If I choose to create a digital exhibit, I will face all sorts of learning curves and could quite possibly run head first into walls. Not that I am afraid of challenges, but I feel like I trekked through the jungles, mountains, valleys, and deserts called grad school and am concerned if I take this on, I may walk right into the base of a cliff that I won't want to scale. Creating this exhibit will be extremely beneficial for me on many levels, but could also prove extremely difficult and time consuming. So I must decide if I continue with the writing of my third chapter or take on the exhibit project.

For now, I will turn up my iPod while I iron my uniform for tomorrow's early morning. Get up offa that thing and shake til you feel better; Get up offa that thing and try to release that pressure.

Or two

My mom said she wanted a blog post or two, so here's my "two." Today was warm, but I spent most of it inside. Usually that means I am downstairs in the dungeon doing computer-y stuff (no sunlight), but since we currently don't have a Tuesday afternoon volunteer, I manned the visitor center this afternoon. I got to see the sunlight through the windows (while avoiding a sunburn). Tomorrow I am traveling to another park for interpretive training, and will be gone for upwards of 13 hours. I will be back in time to get myself ready for my 730AM school visit Thursday morning. A ranger's work is never done.

Just ask Keith.



I still giggle about the pen. Indeed, it is mightier than the cannon.

a short note

A short note to let my mom know I am alive (even though I talked to her yesterday). This would be longer, but after an errand-filled morning, I have 14 minutes left to put on my face, pack my bag before I babysit, sweep my kitchen floor, pick up the dining room, and head out the door. Then I have to go babysit, run home, and put on a spread for some friends coming over. Dinner will be promptly at 7pm and I made a trifle. Mmm.

Now I've got 12 minutes. I'll write more later (really, I will, I promise).

I have one last wish

Just let me down easy. I am riding on one of those natural "highs" called life and have been for some time. Maybe it is because I don't have anymore coursework. Maybe it is because I am keeping myself busy doing work I like to do. Maybe because I am a hopeful individual and know of many adventures around the corner?

I did the wildland fire training and am now certified to fight wildfires. That training was long, though, and made for a long two weeks at work. My room is a mess; my books are stacked all over my room begging me to open them and glean from their pages the many ideas that will help build the arguments in my thesis. I have almost two weeks of laundry stacked up in my closet.

Yet, the sun is beckoning me to enjoy its rays outside. Maybe if I go for a run or do an hour's worth of yard work I can get this itch out of my system enough to grant me the ability to sit down and focus on writing today. There is always tomorrow...