Monday, October 24, 2011

On the Move...

I know I was "supposed" to have a post about the floor redo, with lots of photos.  I just haven't gotten around to actually going downtown where there's a faster internet connection to upload pictures.  It will get done eventually.

Things are slowing down a bit on the farm.  The pigs and lambs went to market today.  We'll be dispatching the rooster later this week (whom I lovingly called "Fitzwilliam" after Mr. Darcy until he started attacking us), and then we'll be hosting our annual FarmAid party this weekend.

Things are also slowing down with my running, as I  hurt my foot on Friday after my first attempt at a 5.2 mile run.  It was a cool, cloudy day--perfect conditions for a run-- and while I've been running since the middle of July, the 5.2 miles was a stretch.  Our valley is very hilly--I have no idea what it is like to run on flat ground--and usually I run only between 2 and 3 miles.  After the run, I felt pretty good but then Saturday I woke up and realized that the outside edge of my right foot was very sore (okay, running friends, any potential diagnoses--I don't think it's plantar fasciitis).  This is the first time I've taken more than one consecutive day off, and I'm feeling a little bit guilty about it.  However, considering that I can't even walk all that well on the foot, running would probably not be in my best interest.

I never considered myself a runner and the last time I ran regularly was in high school many moons ago.  To tell the truth, I really detest running.   I've never understood the "runner's high" because I certainly haven't felt "that good" after running.  But this summer, while I was sitting on the porch reading a novel (the protagonist was a runner) I figured I should get off my butt and do something more active.  Following my older brother's logic, running seemed the obvious choice, primarily because it's cheap and accessible.  I started very slowly (kind of following the Chi Running technique) doing a run/walk around our "block" which is conveniently just about a 5K (3.1 miles).  Over the past 2 months, I've slowly taken out the walking stretches to where I am only walking about a 200 yard stretch that is in the middle of a 1 mile climb.  I've also found other routes in town to stave off boredom, some of which are flatter than the "block" (my very supportive darling husband thinks it's rather ridiculous that I drive somewhere to run) and I also found a running partner with whom to run at 6am every other weekday (which my very supportive darling husband thinks is a ridiculously early hour to go running at, especially since it's dark and cold). I was running about 5 days a week until this weekend. 

So now that I'm laying low for a bit I suppose I will have just a little more time to work on nursing school essays, microbiology notes, Spanish practice and maybe even just sleeping in for 10 more minutes in the morning.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Finding Time

When I left my job last spring to go back to school, I knew that I could at least substitute teach on days that I didn't have classes myself, thus keeping myself busy and earning a little bit of money.  So I signed up as a sub in the neighboring district.  It is now the middle of October, and I have not yet gone in to a classroom.  This isn't to say that the district hasn't called me.  In fact, I get multiple calls  some days.  The problem is two fold.  First, it is an automated system that calls me, and it only calls at certain hours. If I'm not present to pick up the phone, the system moves on. For half those hours in the afternoon I am in class.   In the morning, I usually am running. 

The second, larger issue is that I find myself so busy that I can't take the day to sub.  Between processing squash and apples, moving sheep fence, taking various pets to the vet, and redoing the kitchen floors, I simply have not been able to devote an entire day to subbing. 

Which brings me to the larger point of, "How did we manage before when I was teaching full time?"  I have no answers for that.  I think the old adage, "We do what we have to do" is fitting.  Somehow, we do manage to get it all done.  I like to believe that our brains know how to prioritize and can shift things around when needed.  This may be why our floor got done this year, but the cellar storm doors did not.  Or why I will spend three hours trying to inject a sheep with meds when she is sick, but otherwise I wouldn't have foreseen having three hours of time available in the middle of my day. 

In light of this, perhaps I am not finding time to sub because it's not a priority any more.  I have found far more pressing and/or interesting things to do with my time.  I did happen to find time in my schedule to enroll in a doula workshop out in Boston in a few weeks which I'm looking forward to.  For more information about doulas, you can check out www.dona.org.  Obviously, I am a big proponent of using a doula during birth, and studies have shown a strong correlation between doula use and labor time (25% shorter labors when supported by a doula). And,  many insurance plans do cover the cost of hiring a doula. 

Find some time in your busy life to enjoy yourself.  Just tell your brain to make that a priority!

Friday, October 7, 2011

First Fridays: October

I know you're all expecting me to do something with wool, and I probably will, but not this month!

For October's first Friday, I am showcasing a project that is certainly fun, and truly simple to do.  I call it the "Paint Chip Collage" but I'm sure it has another name and while the concept is not original (I learned about it from my mother about 10 years ago, but I think she found it in Real Simple), each product is certainly unique!

The collage below was actually assembled and given to me as a wedding shower gift from my bestest childhood friend (I had made one for her for her wedding shower two years prior).

The beauty of this project is that it is almost no cost, and the intent is to individualize it as much as possible for the recipient.  It all comes down to the unique names of paint colors.  Have you ever given the names of paint chips much thought?  Next time you're at the hardware store, pick up a few.  The ones in the photo above include "Bridle Path", "Island Palm", "Sailboat White", "June Wedding", "Ocean Breeze"; all phrases that are associated with me and/or my relationship with my bestest friend!  While it's not easy to see the names (and you may not even particularly like the colors), you know that the combination is an accurate description for the person receiving the gift!

When I was overseas for about a month several years ago, I had friends and family send a paint chip (that I had picked out and put into stamped envelopes) to my darling husband (we were dating at the time) every couple days.  I have not yet actually made that collage (7 years later), but he still has the chips. 

Simply glue the chips onto some stockcard and frame.  VoilĂ !, a non-foofy, interesting, eye-catching piece of personable artwork!

Sunday, October 2, 2011

In the middle

Last week, my darling husband and I attended a lecture by Roald Hoffman, the 1981 Nobel Laureate in Chemistry.  The topic was indigo (the dye) and it's cultural and historical significance.  After the lecture, my good friend Eileen sent me his interview transcript from NPR's series, "This I believe" (June 16, 2006), which I re-post here.  It's a succinct explanation, similar to my own philosophy of life.  I think many of us can be very reactionary at times, and I think that perspective often backs us into a corner or ends up working against us.

I believe in the middle. Extremes may make a good story, but the middle satisfies me. Why? Perhaps because I’m a chemist.  Chemistry is substances, molecules, and their transformations. And molecules fight categorization - they are poised along several polarities. Take morphine. Anyone who's had an operation knows what morphine is good for. But it’s also a deadly addictive drug. Take ozone - up in the atmosphere, a layer of ozone protects us from the harmful ultraviolet radiation of our life-giving sun. But at sea level, ozone is produced in photochemical smog, it chews up tires and lungs.
Chemistry - like life -- is deeply and fundamentally about change. It’s about substances, say A + B, transforming, becoming a different substance -- C + D ... and coming back again. At equilibrium -- the middle -- all the substances are present. But we're not stuck there. We can change the middle; we can disturb the equilibrium.
 
Perhaps I like the middle, that tense middle, because of my background. I was born in 1937 in Southeast Poland, now Ukraine. Our Jewish family was trapped in the destructive machinery of Nazi anti-Semitism. Most of us perished ... my father, three of my grandparents, and so on. My mother and I survived, hidden for the last fifteen months of the war in a schoolhouse attic by a Ukrainian teacher, Mikola Dyuk. We were saved by the action of a good man, that school teacher. Sad to say, much of the Ukrainian population in the region behaved badly in those terrible times. They helped the Nazis kill us. And yet ... and yet, some, like Dyuk, saved us, at great risk to their lives. I couldn’t formulate it then, as a child, but I knew from our experience that people were not simply good or evil. They made choices. You could hide a Jewish family or you could choose not to. Every human being has the potential to go one way or the other. Understanding that there was a choice helps me live with the evil I experienced.

Being a chemist has allowed me to see plainly that things – politics, attitudes, molecules -- in the middle can be changed, that we have a choice. Being a survivor I can see that choices really matter, all part of this risky enterprise of being human. The middle is not static -- my psychological middle as well as the chemical equilibrium. I like that. Yes, I also want stability. But I believe that extreme positions – all reactants, all products, all people A bad, all people B good, no taxes at all, taxed to death – are impractical, unnatural, boring ... the refuge of people who never want to change. The world is not simple, though God knows political forces on every side want to make it so. I like the tense middle, and I am grateful for a life that offers me the potential for change.

Hoffmann is a gifted speaker, and you will not be disappointed if you ever have the opportunity to attend one of his lectures.