Not much time for loafing around here. I started Friday off by joining several of my coworkers at a school whose fifth grade class recently stayed up at science camp. We sang some of the camp songs (recognizable tunes with lyrics altered to reflect outdoor science themes) during a school assembly before hurriedly hopping into our vehicles to make it up to camp in time to instruct the kids currently staying there. In the afternoon, my second employer talked me into going to yet another school to teach an after school program to a classroom full of kindergarten through second graders who acted like they'd gotten into the caffiene and sugar supply while nobody was looking.
Yesterday I went to a run down high school on the east side to help with a science workshop in conjunction with an elementary school science fair. There was free pizza and soda, as well as a magician, which made it entertaining. The high school sure was a dump though. Another case of money ending up in the wrong pockets.
Later on, I drove 30 miles and performed at a birthday party for some 7 year old twins. The family was nice, the kids were attentive, and the Filipino noodles and mango ice cream cake were delicious.
The rest of the weekend was taken up with cleaning and financial juggling. Tax forms were mailed, bills were groaned over, groceries were purchased.

I took Nate for a walk around the block last night, which was nice. It's great to do one on one activities with the kids. I think a lot of the behavior issues around here stem from the simple fact that we can never really focus on one child without the other three trying to get in on the action.

The week ahead is supposed to be rainy. Bring it on.

More student journal entries, from opposite ends of the spectrum:

The stars gazed down on a shuffling line of students as they whispered in the night. Stories of pirates and night vision. They thought of stars, sparking sweets, and lonely candles. Holding shoulders in a massive caterpillar they weaved through the trees. The stoic redwoods gaze solemnly down on the asorted people milling through the duff.
All on a late, winter night.

and

Jason, and Daniel were kind of freaked out. I was joking around about the chainsaw masacar and I got in trouble.

I'd rather have students like the author of the first entry above, but I have a feeling that it's people like the second author who really need the experiences that our program offers. Both of these entries were reflections on the night hike we went on last night, which is not ever a time to joke about the chainsaw "masacar" because most of the kids are already extremely nervous about being in the woods at night without flashlights. It wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't specifically told people not to try to freak each other out.

This little spider web, along with many others, is anchored by blades of meadow grass. This particular meadow is in the San Andreas fault zone. Fourteen miles underneath these webs is the main fault. Networks of smaller faults crisscross the zone.

At the moment all is peaceful. The spiders go about their business.

Every week at camp, the kids all get to pick "nature names". In other words, they get to rename themselves for the week. Predictably, there are lots of large carnivores represented. I've never had a week go by without somebody named Cheetah, or Tiger, or Mountain Lion. The raptors are always there too: Hawk, Eagle, etc. There are also lots of Butterflies, Ladybugs, and Fireflies. Not to mention Deer and Raccoons.

So why did one kid today want to be called The Potato? Sometime after picking this name, he wanted to change it to Giant Potato.

I always love it when people come up with the oddball names. The free spirits are out there, and they're naming themselves after edible roots.

Today is a four day week at science camp, so I didn't work today. In fact, I spent a good part of yesterday and today trying to lounge around. I was partly successful, or at least as successful as one is likely to get with four small children hanging off of him. In the end, not much was accomplished. We treaded rather than forged ahead, but I will always remember the words of one of my college professors: "sometimes you just have to do nothing." There really is a sort of wisdom in that. My nothing included finishing Sunset & Sawdust by Joe Lansdale, and starting The Raphael Affair by Ian Pears. This reminds me of my childhood, when I would often sit around all weekend (or indeed, all summer) reading novels. I can't do that now of course, so the occasional lazy hour or five is welcomed.

Other than that, I performed at a couple of science birthday parties, ran few minor errands, mowed the lawn, took Willow for a walk, talked with Jen without getting interrupted two hundred and fifty six times (while the older kids were at their dad's), and did this and that. One of the errands involved buying pet food at the usual place, where I noted that they must have recently hired somebody who can't spell worth beans. His (or her) handiwork was on display on the glass sides of many of the terrariums. Call me a snob, but when I visit a store where the displays are rife with misspellings, it makes me want to shop elsewhere.

Nate's not feeling well at the moment. He puked on Sunday at his dad's, and was running a fever earlier. He seems to be getting better though. Hopefully nobody else will catch it.

I checked out my first cd (Kronos Quartet "Caravan") from the library today too. I'm still fretting over not being able to go out and buy them like I used to, but I'm dealing with it. M handed me a stack of cdrs last weekend too, so I do have new things to listen to.

I managed to take both sets of car keys to work with me today, something I didn't find out until I got a message over the walkie-talkie in the middle of a hike. I've got to check my pockets before going to work. A little before this message came through, one of the girls in my group got a bloody nose and decided that she wanted to return to camp. One of my cabin leaders took her back down the trail, and through a series of wrong turns and a bit of miscommunication between me and one of the other field instructors, they got a bit lost. In the end they managed to get themselves found, so no harm done. The rest of us made it up to the same Redwood grove I visited with my group last week, which I noticed this week is a thousand feet higher up than our starting point. I told the kids this, and I heard at least one of them boasting about it after we got back down to camp. Of course, we got back late too. This group hikes a little slower than last week's did. We were almost late for milk and cookies, a regular thursday event at camp.

Lots of scat on the trail today too. At least one kid stepped in some. Darn coyotes.

Another day of hiking up creeks, composting, and wandering around under the trees. Now I'm guiltily typing away while I should be getting the boys to bed, so I'd better make this short. Here's a few photos from this week.




When millipedes feel threatened, they exude a smelly, yellow fluid that stains skin, leaving a mark that looks like a bruise or burn. Of course, I got the kids to smell my fingers, since it tied in nicely with the animal adaptations lesson I was teaching. Soon after this, I found one of the smaller, yellow spotted millipedes and discovered that they glow when subjected to ultraviolet light. Pretty neat. Below is a picture I took today, a millipede crossing the ranger road. This one was nicer and didn't stain me when I picked it up.




Our night hike last night was less eventful this week. One girl was too scared to make it through the hike and had to be taken back to the school by one of the cabin leaders. Another girl cried the whole time because she was feeling homesick. The rest of the kids did okay, and we got to spend some time at the telescopes looking at Saturn and a nebula (the one in the Orion constellation). Actually, only a couple of kids stayed out late enough to look at the nebula because it was getting late. I like it when people are interested enough in the things we show them that they stay up past bedtime to see more.




I'll leave you with an endearing little quote from The Dickens. "My poop wants to come out of my butt so it can play with you!"

This week is supposed to be sunny. It's kind of funny that a couple of days ago it was hailing, at least up in the hills. Today I met yet another group of kids, fifth graders excited to be up in the hills for science camp. The one exception seems to be a kid in my field group who I'm told has "severe behavior problems". He claims to not want to be at camp, although I caught him having fun on several occasions. One of the teachers from his school pointed out to me that his behavior problems are actually much less severe than they used to be. Still, it will make the week a little extra challenging. That's a good thing though. The best way to gain experience is to keep having new experiences.

Since I did the night program tonight (Monday night is always campfire night) I haven't seen my family much today. I see them briefly when I get up in the morning, but when I get home they're all in bed (or they're supposed to be at any rate).

Over the weekend I did a couple more birthday parties. Campfires and birthdays. I like my jobs.

Our end of the week meeting featured a local geologist who took us around the grounds on a mini geology tour, pointing out a stone culvert slightly offset due to its location atop the San Andreas fault zone, shutter ridges, dried stream beds and all manner of other interesting bits and pieces. Along the way we interrupted a small newt eating its lunch (in this case a worm) and got hailed on. In a way it was strange, with the people who normally lead field classes relegated to the role of student. It was interesting to be in the position of learner on trails where I am normally the teacher. Although there has yet to be a week where I didn't learn something myself while teaching... but you know what I mean. At any rate, I learned enough new facts to make future field class walks down these trails even slower, since I now have all sorts of new things to stop and point out to people. That means I'll be back from class even later than I am now. Oh well.

Lots of information to process. In the meantime, I've been looking at this site with my new 3d glasses. You've got to love meetings where 3d glasses are handed out. I guess this would be a good site for all you cubicle dwellers out there. It's very easy to imagine being in the pictures, away from the boring job and the yelling boss. In fact, why not just quit and go hiking...

At home, feeling masochistic, we took all four kids out to dinner.




Of course, every week I take about five times that number of kids out to lunch in the woods.

I almost forgot that I wanted to share some student journal entries about the night hike. sic sic sic.

There was just 5 or 6 people that haden did the solar hike. One of the people that was there was me. Suddenly something happen 3 coyotes past running, we gat really scared. Then we started to called Crow, our field instructor. Then he came and we told him what happen.
When that happen I was scard. When of the scares thing I have ever past. But I was like glade that happen to me.

On the night hike it was very scary. When we were in a line 3 coyote's passed by really fast it also touched me. After Crow came for us we went back to were everybody was sitting. Crow talked to us about planets. We also ate moon rock's. We had to have partners to see our mouth becuase the rocks shines in our mouths.

Last night I was scard. After I am not. We saw 3 cowotes then we were scared. Then we were walking together. We came as one big one of all. We saw Rachoroon, netes. We hear frogs. We whent to bed. Put our PJ's one.

... I was behind S wen we heard the nosey. Suddenly 3 coyotes came runing out of noware. Earlyer we saw 3 raccons in the trash can. The worse part about the coyotes was that Crow was not with us. We were scriming for help. He came and took us with him. Now I am more strong. Next we saw 2 newts. Finaly we heart some tree frogs. Then we went to the cabings and prepare for bed.

On my night hike we were just waiting to go on to the place we were supposed to go then we heard something running really, really fast. Then we heard a low howl, then we saw 3 coyotes running and it touched somebodys leg.

Crow gave everyone freze dryed fire Flys. I didn't want one because I don't eat bugs

We spent a good six hours on the trail today. The skies threatened rain but didn't deliver. The presence of the clouds made temperatures a bit chillier than they were this time last week, making the kids shiver and gripe. We did at one point pass a couple coming down the trail with their cute little four month old baby, all wide-eyed and bundled up against the cold. I love it when I see parents exposing their babies to the world beyond the suburbs.

I finally managed to get to this Redwood grove that I'd been meaning to visit for a couple of months now. It's a mere five minute walk beyond my usual turn around place, but well worth a visit. We ran into one of the other groups there, just as they were leaving. The other field instructor managed to twist his ankle just after his group passed us, and had to walk all the way back down the mountain afterwards. I guess I'm not the only one to have bad luck on thursdays. I hope it heals quickly.

There seemed to be newts every ten steps or so, and Banana slugs every fifteen. The rain brings them out of their holes by the hundreds. There were a couple of close calls between campers' feet and crawling newts. This is where camouflage works against them. I'm not sure why they're camouflaged anyway. They're too poisonous to eat, unless you're a Garter snake.

At home, The Dickens peed in the heater vent. What next?

Today it rained, so the newts were out in force, peeking out from holes along the sides of trails, crawling along in the damp, and peering out from under glistening tree roots. We hiked up one of the creeks, along with one of the other groups. That means roughly 40 fifth graders, two teenaged cabin leaders, and two field staff scrambling over slippery rocks, sloshing through rushing water, slipping in the spongy duff, and having the time of their lives doing it. Injury and water saturated pants and shoes don't make people enjoy this any less. One kid kept getting me to take his picture so he'd have all sorts of photos to show his mom when he got home.

It's always a bit of a trade off whenever you take that many kids into a riparian corridor. there is always an impact. We contribute a bit to erosion just by walking along the creek. Sometimes kids drop things - I know because I always find items left by other groups. And who knows how many animals are disturbed or even stepped on by careless feet? This is the price we must pay when we take kids into the wilderness. The hope is that what we do today, even though it has a short term impact on some trails and creek beds, will inspire these kids to make good choices in the long term.

Embrace the wilderness. Keep it wild.

Currently listening to Popol Vuh "In the Gardens of Pharao/Aguirre" and being calmed and carried away beyond the fields we know.

We had a pretty eventful night hike earlier. Before we even left our meeting place, which this week is at a log circle over near the trash cans, we saw some raccoons busy inspecting the dumpsters. Most of the kids had never seen raccoons before, so we all stood still and watched them. They watched us back for a bit and then made themselves scarce.
Later, after we had walked through the lower field and down into the woods, I had each kid follow the trail alone, with only a few candles to light the way. This is something we do every week, but tonight it was windy and rainy, causing the candles to flicker and go out. Most of the kids made it down the trail anyway. The last few people called out through the darkness, so I walked back up to light the candles for them. It turned out that this wasn't the problem. They had been calling because a group of coyotes had brushed past them in the dark, close enough to touch. This was confirmed by the cabin leader who was still with them. Not that I don't trust the kids, but I've had campers claim to see all manner of things out in the woods at night - dead people, guardian spirits, and who knows what else...
I wish I'd been there to see the coyotes. I did, later on, come across a couple of newts on the trail. The low clouds were reflecting enough light from the nearby cities to make the darkness somewhat less dark. There was even a newt perched on the edge of the cement wall bordering one side of the pond, as if contemplating a plunge.
As we returned to the school, the voices of frogs reached us from somewhere deep in the meadow.

Earlier, a Pacific Tree Frog posed for me.




So did a mushroom - possibly a Parrot Waxycap. Possibly not.

In the interest of documenting our culture's last bastion of folk tradition, I must report that I heard a new variation of "Jingle Bells, Batman Smells" today in which the line I remember from childhood, "And Joker got away" was replaced with "And Joker played ballet."

Sure, it's a silly children's rhyme, but one must remember that it is part of a living oral tradition, much like other folk music was back before people had the means to record it. Even today, when people are doing their best to capture every obscure little snatch of song ever uttered, I fear that children's rhymes go largely unnoticed by music scholars. It is this fact, and this fact alone that allows these rhymes to be part of an evolving oral tradition. They're not set in the stone of an official recording. They're free and wild, passed down through the generations by bored elementary school children. Whoopeee!

I did my mad scientist routine today at the party where I heard this. I got tipped well, both in money and in cake. Chocolate, cash, and the opportunity to witness an evolving oral tradition. A good way to spend the afternoon if I do say so myself.

I wonder if anybody who wasn't a sociology major ever thinks about stuff like this

Here's some photos from yesterday's hike.










The sky has been blue and filled with that indefinable sense of spring, even though spring is still months away. Next week the rain may make another appearance, causing all of the hopeful little lizards to hole up once again under rocks and dirt.

The campers won't have that option though. If it rains, they still have to go hiking in it. So do I, of course, but that's okay. I don't mind. It's much better than working in a cubicle somewhere.

Somehow every time I turn around it's garbage day.

I'm pretty tired. Jen's got a sinus/ear infection and is feeling pretty miserable. The kids, of course, are their usual selves, bouncing and screaming and spilling things faster than we can keep up with them. Willow now kisses her dolls on the head and puts them to bed, saying, "Baby! Night night!" I'm going to really miss this toddler phase when she grows beyond it.

I went to see Lhasa at the Great American Music Hall in San Francisco last night. G got me in on the KALX guest list, which was nice. Lhasa sings like somebody you'd expect to hear in a smoky bar at 2 am somewhere in southern Europe, perhaps France or Spain. Or maybe Portugal, since she did sing an Amalia Rodriques song. Quite nicely too, I might add.

At work this week I managed to give an olfactory lesson on animal adaptations, with an emphasis on defensive behavior. Within the space of half an hour I picked up a large millipede and a stinkbug, so my left hand smelled like upset millipede and my right hand reeked of angered stinkbug. Most of the kids smelled my hands too. The consensus was that the stinkbug was stinkier. The millipede's defensive liquid, which is yellow when emitted, stains skin a bruise-like color that fades after a day or so.

Today we hiked up to a nearby reservoir that I had never previously visited. I took a wrong turn and led everybody up a creek which we had to cross and recross, scrambling over rocks and under low lying branches. Several kids got quite wet, but all had a great time anyway. There were hundreds of spider webs shimmering in the sunlight (warm sun in January, what next?) and the ground was covered with Banana Slugs. When we finally did reach the reservoir, the frogs were croaking, the Fence Lizards were out sunning themselves, and the kids were tired.

Me too, mostly because I got home late from the concert last night. At least I no longer have to go directly to work upon leaving a venue.

Today, Martin Luther King Day, affords us the opportunity to reflect on, amongst other things, pacifism. In all honesty, I squandered this opportunity because we were too busy combatting the rising tide of junk that threatens to overwhelm us if we relax our vigilance for more than a moment. It's not that I don't place importance in the reasons behind this holiday - it's just that, like with many people, the everyday stuff gets in the way. Actually, as far as holidays go, this is one of the more important ones. I just wish that there were more people in the world like Dr. King - people willing to rise above the everyday stuff and go down in history as having made a difference. Of course, we all make a difference in some way. I feel I make a difference at my job, for instance. . .

Okay, this is starting to be a ramble. I just wish more people would get the message, especially those running this country. Stop the fucking violence. Break down barriers wherever they exist. Relax a bit. Smile. Embrace differences. Try something new.

The weekend rushed by without even saying "excuse me" as it brushed past. We were too busy to notice anyway, stooped over picking things up and brushing things off. The garage has a couple of clean patches in it now. The clover out front is now in the yard waste bin. Some of the junk in the backyard is gone. Some shelves inside are neater. Lots of dishes were done. Lizard cages were cleaned. Butts and noses were wiped more times than one would think possible. Floors were picked up and vacuumed. Knitting was done. Books and newspapers were read.

I recycled some Christmas wrapping paper I found in the garage, noting as I separated paper from ribbon and bow that It was all from a year ago. We've got to get out there more often.

I wish I had more time to draw and write. Most of what I write here is rushed - first draft quality only. Not that it's meant to be polished. After all, it's just a journal.

I don't think I mentioned that I got a raise. A smallish one to be sure, but I'm not complaining. We're still in quite a hole financially, so anything that helps us climb out a little more quickly is welcome. We're even talking about selling things on Ebay to bring in extra cash. We'll see...

Here's some photos from yesterday's hike. The deer skeleton was found by a kid who made a wrong turn and wandered off the trail. The local F.B.I. (that's Fungus, Bacteria, and Invertebrates) had already eaten all of the good bits.










This evening, I took Jen and all of the kids up to see one of the night programs at work. On our current budget, free entertainment is always appreciated. It was kind of nice to sit back and watch my co-workers do all of the work while we drank tea (the grownups) and hot cocoa (the three older kids - poor Willow fell asleep and missed it). Thursday's program is always the science camp version of Jeopardy, followed by a dance. The Dickens was in the thick of things the whole time we were there, while the boys, perhaps a bit intimidated by all of the big kids, hung back a bit. They still had a good time though. When Willow woke up and found out that she was at a loud dance, she wasn't too happy, so we left.

No clouds at all today, but still cold in the shade. There was a thin coating of ice on my car windows this morning.

It looks like the computer is going to act poopy so I can't upload any photos. Perhaps another time.

More kids were added to my field group today due to the new guy being ill. More rain was added to the ground due to the clouds being full. While hiking out in the rain with our increased numbers, we found four different types of salamanders and newts, and one forlorn Fence Lizard clinging to a rock. The poor thing must have been hiding under something that got flooded, and forced to crawl up the rock to avoid being drowned. It was so cold that it barely moved at all when I picked it up. A little later, we found a dying newt. The poor thing was emaciated, but with no other external indication of what the problem could be. Perhaps parasites, or perhaps old age?

The kids' teeth were chattering by the time we got back to camp for lunch.

The clouds disappeared during our night hike, and when we walked out from under the trees, diamond bright stars were scattered above us. There's nothing like stars after the rain