Sunday, October 31, 2004

More excitement around here this week. On friday, I waited with Jen for a portion of her interminable stay in the hospital waiting room. She has mastitis. Check her blog for the gory details. She's a little better today, thankfully. Still far from 100% though.
While I was there, a miserable, quivering man was moaning and stumbling around with his little plastic bowl. Every so often he'd fill it and shuffle over to the bathroom to empty it so the process could begin again. I talked with the guy sitting next to us for awhile. He helpfully filled me in on why to avoid the Alma st. DMV at night. His jaw was held together with wire and pins, due to an encounter with a baseball bat near said DMV. He'd also been stabbed in the chest with a five or six inch knife ("the kind you can buy at liquor stores") and was lucky to be alive. The people who had attacked him got a dollar bill for their trouble. It makes me glad the local DMV is open again after remodeling.

M. and I took the kids to get pumpkins on friday. Here's some photos.






Today is my first day off in about three weeks, so I'm going to go do day off stuff now. Happy Hallowe'en!

Thursday, October 28, 2004

It was sort of like a scene from "The Swarm".

It happened on a long hike along a narrow trail winding through Redwoods, Tan Oak, and Madrone. A kid near the back of the line (19 students, 2 teenage cabin leaders, and me) stepped on a Yellowjacket nest. This means he had walked of the trail, since the nests never seem to actually be on the trails. The first I knew of it was when kids started yelling and running past me. A girl near the back of the line had collapsed to the ground. I ran back and quickly figured out what had happened. There were Yellowjackets in the girl's hair and all over her clothes. She was screaming and crying. So were several of the others. I started picking and flicking the angry insects off of her. The other kids and the cabin leaders were helping as best they could. Up the trail somebody was shouting that the kid named Shadow had "swallowed a bee." I ran up the trail to find him shirtless, hunched over and making gagging sounds. One of the other kids was slapping him on the back. For some reason, somebody else was pouring water on him. The water was mixing with the blood that seemed to be coming from his mouth, or possibly his nose. It was hard to tell.

Kids were running everywhere. Another boy had also taken off his shirt because Yellowjackets had crawled inside it. Several of the students, frightened by the bloody, gagging boy, had retreated back down the trail. I was sure that the boy was having an allergic reaction and going into anaphalactic shock. As I fumbled for the med kit I called for help on the walkie-talkie. At this point I was not too calm and trying to do several things at once. Of course this never works too well. My co-worker back at home base got my location and told me to work on trying to calm the boy down, while checking his records to see if he had any history of allergic reactions to insect stings. I wrapped my jacket around him and talked him into a calmer state of mind. Gradually, his breathing improved. The blood was wiped away by somebody. I noticed a welt on his neck where he had been stung. On the outside, thankfully. My co-worker said that she and one of the classroom teachers would meet us on the trail with ice and vinegar (vinegar, a mild acid, counterracts the effect of wasp venom, which is a base). Slowly, the cabin leaders and I got the kids moving. The kids themselves were helping as best they could. Carrying the possessions of their wounded classmates and helping calm them - even telling jokes to try to get them to laugh. One boy even carried my backpack (in addition to his own) so I could carry the girl who had been stung on the head and face. This girl, as I carried her up the trail, kept saying she missed her mom and wanted to die. She even tried to apologize for being heavy (thankfully she was one of the lightest kids). I just kept talking, explaining what had happened and telling them that the pain would ease up soon. At the apex of our journey (we had continued up rather than go down past the nest again) some of the kids were even singing. Soon afterwards, we met up with the rescue party. Ice and vinegar were applied to wounds, and we marched back down the hill.

Seven kids had gotten stung, three of them multiple times. The boy who had been stung in the neck was fine. By the time we started downward, even the swelling had disappeared. The girl who had been stung on the head was walking with an icepack on her head under my hat. One of the other boys, who had been a bit of a troublemaker on previous days, and who had been at the forefront of those helping on the trail, revealed that he too had been stung. During the crisis, he hadn't complained about it at all. Not one word. Talk about a stressful situation allowing a person's true qualities to shine through.

Later, at the assembly before recess, I stood up in front of the school and gave them a commendation for courage and selflessness. It's amazing to see kids (or anybody else for that matter - but especially kids) help each other out in times of confusion and pain.

I'm not taking that trail next week.

I've been looking through the journals the kids have been keeping this week. Here's what a couple of them had to say about tuesday's night hike: At first I was nervous and scared but later on I thought dead people were following me, and I learned that trees have been here for a long time. They can tell stories if you just listen. I like the part when I was walking alone. I felt that there were guardians behind me. I felt enjoyable, safe and peaceful.

The girl with the guardians didn't get stung.

At home, The Dickens, in her best no-nonsense tone, stated that, "someday I can put ice in poop and coffee." Then, after some thought, she added, "someday I can put medicine in my butt."

Keep it surreal.

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

We got to witness a lunar eclipse tonight. I was up at the school, helping out with Wednesday's night program, so we all got to pause and turn our gazes skyward. The moon was obscured by a brownish-red shadow, made hazy by a sheet of thin clouds.

The night program centered around the Lorax. We performed a short play based on the book (I played the Onceler!) and then had a mock trial where the kids got to ask the characters questions in an effort to determine who was guilty for the destruction of the Truffula trees and the resulting woes of the Barbaloots, Swamee swans, and Humming fish. Everybody was found guilty.

Yesterday, on our anniversary, I hiked our group over to Sanborn park and we all sat down in the grove where we got married two years ago. It's as beautiful as it ever was. The kids thought it was pretty cool. I thought it was pretty cool too. It was too bad that I had to spend the whole day away from Jen. I don't feel that I've been working this job long enough to start requesting random days off.

Tuesday night's hike in the dark went pretty well. As usual, a number of the kids were scared, mostly because of movies they had seen. The moonlight, filtered by clouds, occasionally brightened into moonbeams that slipped between the silhouetted boles of the Redwoods and whitened segments of the trail. Beautiful.

Monday, October 25, 2004

I got paid $150 for bringing a good portion of my critter collection to a Halloween party way out in the East Bay on Sunday. The people who had hired me for the party during which the Monitor bit me were in attendance. They asked to see the scar. There really isn't much of one - just a little red mark on the inside of my ring finger.

Speaking of ring fingers, tomorrow is our second anniversary. Two years of wedded bliss (and constant kid chaos). We've been through a lot together in that short time. I look forward to many more years togother. Maybe some day we'll actually get to relax. Or go on a honeymoon.

I now interrupt this post to rush off and help The Dickens who just pooped in her underwear...

Okay, I'm back. The Dickens has been in fine form lately, spitting milk and cussing out inanimate objects. Earlier she stepped on the soiled Tickle Me Elmo doll in her room, and when it giggled at her she shouted, "stupid Omo! Stupid pants!" I'm not really sure whose pants she was referring to because Elmo wasn't wearing any.

The kids at camp this week are sixth graders, which means there just that much closer to being 7th and 8th graders who, as everybody knows, aren't to be reasoned with. Sixth graders are all right though. I feel more on top of things this week because it wasn't raining today. Rain really does interrupt outdoor classes. Tomorrow it's supposed to pour. I'll be more prepared for it this week.

I had a meeting at my other job tonight. The woman who hired me taught my (for two weeks, anyway) old Monday afternoon class this week - the Lord of the Flies one. She had no more luck than I did in controlling them in any way. That made me feel better.

Saturday, October 23, 2004

I worked some extra hours today helping out on a ropes course up among the redwoods. A small group of local African American youth and their mentors came up to spend some time doing some team building activities. One of the other weekday field instructors was on hand to help as well, along with an actual ropes course guy to handle all the real work. As helpers, we just hooked people to ropes and belayed them as they inched across cables strung between redwoods, or attached them to pulleys so they could go zipping along cables through the trees. Everybody had a blast, and afterwards the group invited us to join their next activity, which turned out to be a djembe lesson, taught by a man who used group drumming as a metaphor for life (if you lose the rhythm, don't just keep playing - stop and listen so you can find the rhythm again...). It was a lot of fun, even if my hands and wrists hurt afterwards. Over all, we sounded a lot better than those drum circles I used to hear up in Berkeley all of the time. Much more rhythmic. Playing with a group of people is a bit of a departure for me. I usually fiddle around by myself with random instruments. It takes a lot more discipline to play with a group. My fellow field instructor was more used to it, having his own djembe. In fact, most of the people I work with at this job are musicians. It makes me want to learn more. I'd like to be able to successfully play with a group.

The man who had put this all together is also a documentary filmmaker. I listened to part of the inspirational speech he gave to the group, and he struck me as a powerful speaker as well - very forceful and positive. His latest film is called "A Killing in Choctaw", about a racist killing in Alabama. He was nice enough to give me a copy of the NY Times with an article about it. I'll have to see the film if it makes its way to the area.

It rained off and on while we were up there, and the clouds crept over the hills below the tops of the trees, shrouding the area in a shifting white curtain. The air smelled of pine.

Thursday, October 21, 2004

The clouds took a break for most of the day today. We hiked further and saw seventeen newts. It was still kind of cold in the shade, and the evening was colder still. I stuck around to work the Thursday night program, which involved a "game show" of sorts where cabin groups answered questions about things that they had been taught over the course of the week. Since they were allowed to work as teams, they did pretty well. Afterwards, there was a dance, which was pretty exciting for the kids. It was fun just to watch them have fun.

I'm pretty tired though. I haven't seen my family since this morning. By the time I got home, everybody was in bed. Lexy was still awake, but I think he's asleep now too.

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

The amphibians were out in force today. Newts and salamanders, encouraged by the wet ground, seemed to be everywhere. One girl in my group even found a mutant newt. Two of its back toes were fused together. The newt promptly became the visual element of a talk on amphibian mutations, and how many scientists view amphibians as sort of a global "indicator species". Amphibians, due to their porous skin and other factors, are more susceptible to harm from environmental changes than most other animals are. In other words, if something goes wrong, they're the first to go. And that's exactly what is happening.

When the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, the forest steamed. It was beautiful.

Later, the night hike went by much too quickly. The kids were sort of loud, but quieted down after a bit. The rain stayed away, but the clouds made stargazing difficult.

I'm tired. When I got home everybody was in bed already. That sounds like a good idea.

Tuesday, October 19, 2004

It came down in torrents today, mostly while I was teaching field class. Most of the kids came prepared. Those who didn't made do as best they could. The trails all contained rushing rivulets of water, and many times their normal coverage of leaves. The Madrone trees were especially pretty, glistening redly in the wet. We gathered around one ancient Douglas Fir and took turns gazing up the mossy trunk into the branches as the rain cascaded downwards into our faces. Too beautiful to really describe here unless I lapse into poetry, which I won't.

Later, we saw a newt and a couple of banana slugs on the trail, which made the kids happy. I finally managed to catch the tarantula living in the junction box near the nature lab. He proved to be quite docile once picked up. The kids whipped out their disposable cameras to record the moment.

I didn't manage to teach all of the things I planned to because of the rain, and I think the other instructors had the same problem. It's hard to focus games and lessons while being pelted by rain. It's kind of distracting. Some of the kids were kind of uncomfortable, and my backpack full of journals got pretty wet.

Okay, I'd better go read to Lexy now. More tomorrow.

Monday, October 18, 2004

It rained overnight, but the day dawned mostly clear. The hills around the school have that fresh, after-rain smell. The dust on the trails has been beaten down and turned to mud. Newts and slugs are rejoicing.
Three schools converged on us this morning. My field class is a mixture of students from the three. On the list of medical information/special needs I notice that I have a couple of ADHD kids, one girl who has "extreme energy", and a boy who is "inattentive". This last fellow fully admitted to his malady during our first group meeting, and then went on to demonstrate it. Over all though, they seemed like a good group of kids, class clowns and all.
I'm honing my style this week, building on last weeks experience. The first few weeks of any new job are like this - constant improvement and improved retention of all of the little details. This job has lots of little details, most of them revolving around the camp routine. The field class part is pretty straightforward though. Take the kids into the woods (or chapparal, or riparian area) and teach them things. Of course, the things that we have to teach them are pretty specific. There are standards involved here.

It's quiet outside right now, but it's supposed to rain before morning. Tomorrow will be wet, but that doesn't bother me. We need the rain.


Saturday, October 16, 2004

It's raining! I just heard the long awaited sound of droplets rustling through the trees outside the window. It's not exactly a downpour, but it's something at least.

I did a couple of birthday parties today. I got tipped ten bucks and a cupcake at the first one, and twenty eight bucks and cake with ice cream at the second one. The second party was for a kid that Lexy went to school with for the last couple of years. The mom works with somebody I used to work with. One of the guests works as a bus driver who sometimes drives kids up to where I presently work during the week. Small world. Good cake.

I'm working for a couple hours at the museum tomorrow. It feels like I haven't been there in ages. It's been more than half a month anyway.

Friday, October 15, 2004

Friday is the day that the kids who have been at camp all week go home. For our final hour together, I had them haul lots of kitchen scraps down to the compost pile for some hands-on learning experiences. Some kids smashed old apples into smaller bits, some stirred things around with the pitchfork, some sifted, and the rest watered and weeded. Then we sat down in a circle and shared thoughts about the week. Most of the kids enjoyed the solo hike the best. A couple of kids got a little teary eyed at the thought that they would soon be getting on the bus.

An hour or so later, when they actually were getting on the busses, many of the kids (and some cabin leaders & teachers) were crying. They had us sign autographs. They hugged us. They all looked so sad. I don't blame them. Next week they'll all be sitting at their desks in sterile classrooms, which can never match the woods and streams for a learning environment. Next week I'll be leading around a bunch of new kids.

It's a powerful experience, seeing people moved to tears and knowing that I had a part in it.

Thursday, October 14, 2004

The kids in my field class are upset that the week is almost over. I don't blame them. Next week they're going to be back in regular school. Today they were walking by themselves (along a trail marked by me) and experiencing the solitude of the wilderness. As they ended their solo treks, I had each of them in turn roll the sheep knuckle bone dice. I then interpreted their rolls and told them their fortunes (yes, it was relevant to the class - it's similar to games the Ohlone Indians played, using simple objects from their immediate environment). The least well behaved kid's roll was interpreted as "your thoughts and ideas are bad." Maybe these dice really work. I soft-pedaled the "bad" fortunes of course. There are ways to make bad fortunes seem good. It's all in how you look at them.

The girl who was feeling sick was back in class today. Her mother came up to the camp and brought her some medicine. Yay!

On every hike I take, I look under at least a few logs and bits of bark for small, interesting creatures. Today I found two things of interest. the first was a mother Tarantula and her egg sac (see below), and the second was a pair of sunglasses. I'm not really sure why sunglasses were under a log, but what the hell - free sunglasses! I always get sunglasses for free. I either find them or people give them to me. With this in mind, it's not really too surprising that I'd find a pair under a log in the woods.




For once I refrained from picking it up, because I didn't want to disturb her more than I already had. This type of Tarantula tends to be a bit grouchy anyway. The absence of urticating hairs on their abdomens means that their first line of defense is to rear up on their hind legs and wave their fangs at you. They don't actually bite - at least I don't think they do. I was holding one once when it went into defensive mode (due to kids crowding around to look more closely) and it went so far as to lunge at the palm of my hand. The fangs never went in though. It was all bluff.
Note also the insect wings scattered all around it. I think they're from termites, but I could be wrong. I'll have to look into it.

Wednesday, October 13, 2004

I spend a lot of time playing games with this week's group of kids. They're having a lot of fun learning, which means that they just might learn something. So far we've covered photosynthesis, energy cycles, community comparison, food webs, adaptation, geology, native animals, and little bits of other pertinent information. One girl has been hanging in there all week even though she's been feeling sick. Today she had developed an earache. I hope it's not an ear infection.

The kids, when asked to guess how long I'd been teaching for this school, decided that I must have been there for ten years (give or take). That's a pretty good compliment for somebody who's only been there for three days.

Speaking of food webs:




It has been hot this week. There has been none of that gentle morning fog that made last week's mornings so beautiful. There are already plenty of leaves on the ground. Up in the hills we rustle through the fallen leaves of Tan Oak, Madrone, Live Oak, Bay Laurel, and others. Ravens croak down at us from high up in the Redwoods. Stellar's Jays mimic hawks in the Madrone trees, and Crows peck at morsels out in the lower field area. It's exciting to be up in the hills during the autumn, since my previous experience with this kind of work is teaching summer camps.

Willow now says "ciao" to our italian neighbor. Not even two and already bi-lingual!

Tuesday, October 12, 2004

Today we wandered further afield, exploring creeks and forests and chapparal. Many creatures came under our scrutiny. The creek was home to Pacific Giant Salamander larvae, California Slender Salamanders, Water Boatmen, and a good number of other small, wiggly things. Up at the edge of the chapparal, I found an Alligator lizard and a scorpion co-existing under a log. The scorpion ran up the outside of my pants and did its best to hide near my zipper. The kids all held up their disposable cameras, paparazzi-like, and snapped dozens of pictures. One kid even had a digital camera, and is probably the only one of the lot who got a good picture, since the disposable ones won't focus at distances under three feet or so. The lizard bore the scrutiny with bad grace, but the scorpion posed on the end of one of my fingers for more photos. The kids were excited enough about this to run and tell everybody they met about it.

The facilities manager clued me in to where to find a tarantula on the grounds as well. It lives under one of those cement electrical junction boxes, which is set flush with the ground on one of the lawns. It quickly ducked out of sight down its secret escape hatch when we lifted the lid. Maybe tomorrow I'll get to show it to the kids.

My first night hike as a leader went pretty well. This week's fifth graders are a bit more fearful than last week's sixth graders were. A couple of the girls even cried a bit, but I talked them through it. It's a pretty big deal when you fear something and do it anyway. I made sure that they knew that. Afterwards, we lay on our backs in the field and looked at stars. We should all do this more often. I feel fortunate that I can do this and get paid for it.

Monday, October 11, 2004

I spent 12 hours at my new job today and felt like I could have kept going at the end of it. Granted, there was some down time between leading field classes and performing at the campfire, but the day just flew by. I'm ready to do it again tomorrow. I'm still learning things, of course, but I feel that my first day was a success. I met a few more people coworkers as well, and tons of kids (5th graders this week). There are seven teachers from two schools staying at the camp along with their students this week. One of them, bless her heart, brought along an espresso maker.

I saw a whole murder of crows circling overhead in the evening, and as I left for the night two enormous stags crossed the road in front of me. Lovely.

The kids are excited and attentive. I have 22 in my field class. I'm working hard at memorizing all of their names. I'm more than halfway there, I think.

Yesterday, our whole family went up to the school so I could check out some new trails. We ended up hiking over to where Jen and I got married a couple of years ago. Here's a picture of Lexy and a little girl who rarely sits still.



Sunday, October 10, 2004

The Dickens just walked into the bedroom making little gagging noises. In her hand was a sippy cup. She looked up at me and asked, "what is this?" In the sippy cup was some milk well on its way to being cottage cheese. The moral of the story is, of course, never drink anything with lumps in it.

The boys had a good walkathon at their school yesterday. Jen volunteered her time helping make things run smoothly. I took the girls with me to a training session up in the East Bay. Now that I'm no longer teaching after school sessions I have to be trained for my new role as birthday party science teacher. Both of the girls behaved very well, probably because there were lots of interesting things going on. They especially like the dry ice. Willow had a blast popping soap bubbles filled with carbon dioxide. I got to take home a cotton candy machine and Lexy got an extra birthday treat consisting of homemade cotton candy. Nate and The Dickens made some as well. Of the kids, only Willow didn't have any. For some reason she wouldn't eat it. Maybe its because it just doesn't seem like food to people with any sense. I had a bunch myself.

Then, in the evening, I went and performed at a birthday party. The kids were a bit older (the boy was turning 11) and they all had a good time, interrupted only when one of the boys fell out of a tree. He recovered enough to eat pizza later, though. The highlight of the party was the cotton candy machine. The rest of the activities involved using chemicals to make things hot and cold, luminesce, and vanish in flame. We even made our own bouncy balls.

At the end of the party, I got tipped twenty bucks. I like that. Extra money is good. I think I'll use it to buy a cheap watch, or batteries for my laser pointer.

Friday, October 08, 2004

It has been a long week. I think it seems this way mostly because of all the driving I've been doing, travelling from school to school and never staying in one place for long. I'm looking forward to next week, when I get to stay in one place and teach something really important - natural cycles and respect for our planet. The kids I've been observing this week really seemed to get it, and hopefully took some new attitudes away from the camp experience. I'm happy to be a part of a team helping to teach this type of curriculum.

We've got to fight against all of the plastic shit out there, whether it's part of the packaging or something packaged. Lexy got more plastic shit from the well-meaning but misguided mom of one of his friends today. A Bruce Lee ninja set, for chrissakes! Absolute plastic shit. Just what we need, more plastic swords and nunchucks and what have you. Imagine, if you will, four small children running around the house with ninja paraphenalia, and you will have some insight into what I had to contend with this evening. Granted, Willow wasn't all that interested. She was more interested in wearing one of the boys' Nasa caps at a jaunty angle while watching Teletubbies. The Dickens, for her part, decided that her time would be well spent by chewing on the little plastic suction cup arrows that she couldn't figure out how to shoot from the shitty little plastic bow. Both of the arrows are now bent beyond repair. Hurrah!

While all of this was going on, Jen was out being reminded why she never goes to ToysbackwardsRus. Home of battery operated plastic shit. She fared slightly better at Target, so now Lexy will have some birthday stuff for tomorrow.

Tomorrow, tomorrow. Jen is helping out at the school walkathon. I'm getting trained on how to do birthday parties for my now even more part-time job. I'm taking the girls with me for this, so my training will no doubt be interrupted. It's good to work for a company that welcomes children in the office. There will no doubt be plenty of things to keep them occupied. It's kind of strange that I'll be the paid entertainment at a stranger's birthday party on Lexy's birthday, but we're planning a family party afterwards.

I don't feel so tired as long as I keep moving. Whenever I sit down it hits me. Mustn't sit down then.


Thursday, October 07, 2004

Another day of learning. The guy I've been shadowing all week is really good at what he does, and the kids seem to be learning a lot. One of them turned to me today and said, "you should be a counselor here." I told him I would be next week. I'm starting on Monday. Unfortunately it's the part year position, not the full time one with benefits. Still, I'm looking forward to it and will be keeping an eye out for the next full time vacancy. I've decided that I'd better get a watch so I get the students back on time for lunch and dinner. I'm also going to get new batteries for my laser pointer, since it's good for pointing out constellations during night hikes. Hopefully I'll have some time on Sunday to gather things together. We might go hiking up there with the kids too, so I can learn any trails that I haven't had a chance to check out during the week.

This afternoon I had to teach in Fremont. I stopped by our base of operations nearby, where we tried to figure out when I could train some more so I could play mad scientist at a birthday party on Saturday. I feel like I'm letting them down at this job, because I'm basically quitting after this week, except for weekend gigs doing birthday parties. I've already been asked if I could jump right back in the next time my schedule gets freed up (in about a month). Business seems incredibly good for them right now, but I get the impression they're running themselves into the ground trying to keep up with it all. Tomorrow I teach my last after school program for the time being.

I also got a call from a company that had advertised for a distribution supervisor. I had sent them an e-mail before I knew I was getting the Environmental Education position, but even though I told them I couldn't work the hours they needed (25-30) they still want to interview me. I'll probably schedule one with them sometime next week. Just to see. I will definitely need some extra work in November and December because the "part year" part of my new job doesn't include any work during these months, except for some after-the-fact training. This paid training will make up for the fact that I've been observing their program on my own time this week. Also, I'm really only seeing about half of the program, since I've been leaving in the middle of it every day in order to go someplace where I'm actually getting paid. We gotta eat here. Not that I'm getting paid much, of course. That will change (relatively, at least).

This jumbled chaos that is my schedule at the moment is all very new to me. All of my previous jobs were long-term affairs. Things stayed the same for years, with minor changes here and there. Right now I feel I can't focus on anything but my changing job situation, but when things finally settle down (whenever that may be) I'll be the better for it.

Nuff for now.

Wednesday, October 06, 2004

I haven't really had much time to sit down this week. I've been too busy trying to learn a new job while working an almost new job. I haven't worked at the museum all week, and won't be able to for the next few weeks either. I could work weekends, I guess, but I'm still trying to decide if I should bother. Continued employment there might come in handy towards the end of the year if I get the part year position at the science camp. Or maybe I should just let it go.

For now I'll adopt a "wait and see" attitude. Some things become clearer after a bit of time is allowed to pass. When you do things in a hurry some of the important details get lost. Right now I'm too busy focusing on learning the new job to worry about much else. I'll probably spend a lot of time this weekend reading various manuals and instructor guides - oh, and learning some campfire songs. Most of the people who work there are musicians of one sort or another. Some of the campfire songs are pretty cool.

It's hard to believe it's only Wednesday. I observed camp activities most of the morning, and then went home for a bit before rushing off to teach the sea life class. Then I went and got a TB test because the one I got a couple of years ago is too ancient to pass muster. Afterwards, with no time to spare, I rushed northwards to instruct some small children on how to build model rockets. For some reason, none of the kids names matched the ones on my roster. In the classroom next to me was another instructor employed by the same organization as me. I hadn't met him previously, and when I talked to him I found out that he'd also applied for the job I've been learning in the mornings. He obviously didn't get it though. Small world.

Hanging over the back of one of the couches in the staff room at the science camp was a shirt emblazoned with the words "Bush is torture". How true.


Tuesday, October 05, 2004

Today was a bit like yesterday. I spent the morning observing camp activities, the afternoon teaching an after school program, and the evening back at camp. This evening's activity was a night hike, using the same trails I hiked many times over the summer while working for the Youth Science Institute. We marched in an ant-like column, without the aid of flashlights, through the Redwoods. At one point, we each got the opportunity to walk alone, following the trail with the aid of candles placed on the ground at intervals. Very cool.
We ended the evening by peering through a telescope at a nebula. The Milky Way stretched across the sky. That's one of the good things about being up in the hills. You can actually see the Milky Way.

Okay, time to get off the computer.

Monday, October 04, 2004

I found out today that the other two people competing for the full time Environmental Education Specialist position both already work at the school part time (or full time, part year). That means I'll most likely get the full time, part year position instead, which means I'll have some gaping gaps in my schedule that will need filling somehow or other. I should find out for sure by midweek.

I spent the morning observing the program at the school. The treetops disappeared into the soft greyness of the persistant mist. Then busloads of sixth graders arrived. I felt like I was a kid again. The atmosphere was that evocative of childhood for me. All of the people I met seemed nice and relaxed. I think I created a bit of a buzz, being an outsider competing against a couple of insiders for a permanent position, but I didn't get the feeling that anybody resented me. There's free food for employees as well.

In the afternoon, I went and taught at the same school as last Monday, and the kids still acted like extras from Lord of the Flies. This should be my last time teaching this particular group. I told the woman who hired me for this job that I wouldn't be able to teach after school programs after the end of the week, and she was very understanding. I'll still be able to do fun birthday parties for them on the weekends though. That's good, because we're going to need the money.

At night, I went back to observe more camp. Campfire, actually. They actually started the fire the old fashioned way - rubbing sticks together. Songs, skits, and merriment followed. It's going to be another of those "I can't believe I'm getting paid to do this" jobs.

Saturday, October 02, 2004

Now I have to wait until midweek for the final verdict. I arrived early for my interview this morning, only to find nobody there yet. While I waited, I looked at frogs and directed a lost man towards the park up the hill where a memorial service he was looking for was being held. My interviewer arrived soon afterwards, and we spent about an hour and a half talking. It went pretty well, covering much of the same ground as the first two interviews. They're trying to fill the position(s) as soon as possible, but I'm the first interviewee of three. The other two probably won't be interviewed until Wednesday or so. First prize is a full time job with benefits. Second prize is a full time/part year job without benefits. If I get second prize, I would be working for the rest of this month, and then not again until sometime in January. After that, I would have work (minus a couple of vacation weeks) until May, with the possible option of summer employment. I'm trying to figure out how I could make that work. Of course, there's always the possibility of third prize, which is getting my name on an "eligible for employment" list for a year, should some other position become available. Let's hope for first prize. While I'm waiting, I'm going to show up in the mornings this week to observe some camp sessions. Should be enlightening.

Talk about a labyrinthine selection process though.

And now... Duck! It's the flying seven-legged tarantula, with fangs glinting in the late afternoon sunlight!



Okay, that's actually not true. It's a very stationary dead tarantula. It's missing a leg because one snapped off when I picked it up. I had to shake the ants off it before I took the picture.

There are new people moving in next door. We haven't really met them yet. What do you want to bet that they run screaming in a day or two? When The Dickens and Willow start shrieking, it sounds like war has broken out.

Friday, October 01, 2004

Oh, and let's not forget Mt. St. Helens. Sure, today's eruption was minor, but this kind of thing always interests me. I can still remember the big eruption back in 1980. I made a side trip there in the early nineties on the way back from Seattle. It was steaming a bit, and there were miles of flattened trees dotted here and there with the rusted remains of cars whose owners didn't move them (or themselves) in time.

There were signs warning visitors not to pick pumice.



Things are picking up speed. I received an e-mail earlier today stating that I'd passed the second round of interviews for the position I'm hoping to get. It seems that they've whittled us down to three from the eighteen original applicants. They've even scored the written and oral interviews, much like they would a school exam. My score is a lucky 93 percent (I even mentioned listening to Current 93 a couple of posts ago - serendipitous coincidence?). Later I received a call from the director of the school, and my final interview is set for tomorrow morning. Wish me luck.

I took Lexy and Nate for a hike this afternoon. It took a bit of convincing to get Lexy to come along - he's still upset about his broken arm and keeps saying he's useless. I persisted though, and he thanked me later. We didn't see as much in the way of wildlife this time, but had a good time nonetheless. Here's a few of the photos.




The very common Western Fence Lizard, aka Bluebelly. If you hear a rustling in the bushes, this is what is making it.




The slightly less common Western Skink (juvenile). Slightly blurry photo because you rarely get a second chance with small quick lizards.



Nate and I wandering into the woods. Photo by Lexy.