A glimpse into the Olympics

Travel makes me feel empowered. I don't mean commuting and I don't mean family vacations. I mean  that open landscape of the unforeseen. I have never felt as content in my self as when I first drove out West alone, learning what to navigate on my own, when to reach out and how to be re-enchanted.

When I take the occasional pause to think about where I've been and where I am at now, I am almost shocked at how much I've managed to distance myself from that state of being. It's almost like looking down one day and realizing you've been trying to walk on your hands this whole time; that's why I'm so tired!

A dear friend of mine who is far more adept at waxing philosophical than I recently said: "Too little security makes people anxious. Too little novelty makes people angst. Our brains are too big for our tiny little lives."

I find myself in this crux far too often and occasionally it bursts, insisting upon dramatic shifts in attempts to toggle myself into equilibrium.

My service here of course, currently limits the scope of my adventures. But I realized they certainly don't have to continue to be confined to the Rainier region. So this past weekend, I decided to treat myself to a trip to the Olympics.

Even though it would be a short excursion, I was being drawn to the trip from an irrefutable need inside. As soon as I merged onto 101 leaving the big-city freeways, I felt something return to me. Whimsy. Out here, thoughts aren't on a ticking clock, racing to be digested in between the next obligation. I could exist solely for myself.

I arrived in Port Angeles about an hour before sunset with no prior information about camping. Driving up towards the visitor center, I passed signs for a Fine Arts Center, an eccentric looking playground, and the road that seemed to lead into a quaint business district, all of which I'm sure are intriguing places to explore. However, I wanted to get information on a campsite I'd looked up in Elwha, still a good 45 minutes away.

The center was closed but the map outside revealed that 'Heart of the Hills' campground was only about 5 miles away. I got in to set up my tent and heat some food on the stove just as the last daylight left the sky, replaced by a sliver of a moon.

The weather was considerably nippier than I'd anticipated and even zipped up in my coat underneath all of my blankets, I awoke with numb feet in the morning. Fortunately, I had an hour's drive to Elwha which warmed me up and let me enjoy the slow lightening of the mountain's shadows.

The Elwha River area was a bit confusing to navigate at first. Back in 1913, A dam had been constructed on the Elwha despite opposition from the Elwha tribal community. The dam declined to build the required fish passage into their design and thus an ecosystem was forsaken. It wasn't until 1992 that the native people and the park teamed together to restore the river to its natural state and an act was passed that began plans for dam removal. So nature's greens and browns are currently spotted with construction's oranges and whites in the Elwha area. I was wary about the construction and road closures and it took me a bit to find the information I needed. Eventually though, I found the posting that pleasantly informed me that the trail I wanted was accessible: The Olympic Hot Springs Trail.

This trail is part of a larger continuous Appleton Pass trail which shoots 30+ miles clear across the park to the Hoh. If I ever chose to do this sort of a hike, I would probably start with a trail like this. At least the 2.5 miles I covered were wide open, well-kept and relatively elevation-free. It skirts a slope of Old growth forest and traipses over several small waterfalls cascading over rocks of bright moss-green. At the fork to the Hot Springs, I discovered that there is even a campground right there, which is a neat overnight option to keep in mind.

These were the first Hot Springs I've been to that have not been "built up"and I was rather disappointed in myself for having not planned to bring an extra set of clothes or a towel. It was tempting to forgo reason and dip in anyhow but the hike was a nippy 2.5 miles one way and I knew I would have a very unpleasant return had I done so. Nonetheless, the steam from the pools made for the perfect personal heater which allowed a good chunk of time for me to sit and write comfortably without getting the shivers.

From the Elwha, I wound back down 101 to pack up camp before heading further down that road to Hurricane Ridge. The winter publication for the park featured guided snowshoe hikes with a ranger every weekend afternoon and I headed up even though I was skeptical that there would be enough white stuff hiding within the 20 minute drive. Although my guide Meghann would later inform me that something called the Adiabatic lapse rate formulates that there is a 3.5 degree temperature drop for every 1,000 feet gained, it was definitely not enough to manifest winter fluff. Sill, going up Hurricane Ridge was way worth it. The drive alone took my breath away. The road winds along views of mt. Olympus and gradually inclines until one last hill that takes you toward a final curve. As you round the bend, the most incredible mountain range reveals itself all at once and it feels as though you are at the edge of the earth.

While the meadows surrounding the visitors' center were missing their typical 6 feet of snow, Meghann still led myself and two others on an informational walk nearby. the theme of her talk was appropriately based around the change of climate and how animals and plants might be adapting. First she painted a picture of a typical February - winds that could exceed 70mph, 34 feet of annual snowfall  - and pointed out ways the wildlife have been used to living in these conditions. Firs for example, grow in narrow a-frame stature and tend to group together so that their center of gravity is condensed and they can support one another through heavy snowfall. Hemlocks on the other hand, drop all over like elastic, letting snow slide off of them easily. When it came to animals, we spoke a lot about layering and hibernation. Meghann pulled out an example of a bird and held up a picture of its skeleton beside it to show how much of the bird was just feather. Check it out:

She explained that while the bears living in the Olympics have taken to not hibernating, there are still some master hibernators in the park, number one being the Marmot, whose heart rate get notched down from 140 beats per minute to....3. The Marmot is only active from mid May until September and during that time, has to eat a third of its body weight in order to have enough bulk to lose during its months of slumber.

As the walk came to a close, Meghann plugged the standard pro cautions about doing our part and asked us to close our eyes and envision what it would usually look like up here and showed us one last picture indicating the % of its standard snowfall the area had received: 3%.

Will the adaptations that once came in handy to protect from the cold suddenly become excessive burdens? Will it be like our human stress responses that so many of us have permanently clicked on, even when real danger isn't present? Perhaps its permanently on because real danger is permanently present. These are strange, strange times...

By late afternoon, I was heading down towards Olympia where last year's teammate Jordan had graciously allowed me to come stay the night. I'd always enjoyed Jordan's even-keeled disposition and it was refreshing to catch up, and just to be social in general. After comparing notes about kids and education and changes with our lives, I curled up in the guest bed for one of the most comfortable nights of sleep I'd gotten in a long time.

Back to work on Monday, I had a significantly easier drive from Olympia to Chehalis for the monthly LC Thrives meeting. Playing a secretarial role for a group of people established as long term residents in the area, I don't feel I have a lot of input for the content of the meetings; the group is slow-moving and the projects take on the scope of years as opposed to weeks. However, the most recent project to begin to shape itself into something active is one that I've enjoyed hearing about. A County Health Improve Plan (CHIP) group has been formed to conduct detailed data collection on the disparities and resources in the area. After pinpointing two main priorities, it is in the stages of holding focus groups aimed at brainstorming concrete strategies to address these issues. There are 4 scheduled meetings and the outcome will be presented to the public to approve for actual action measures. I like it because there is a deadline that will result in action and a lot of the recent meetings have generated good talks but little tangible strategy.

At school this week, the mother of a student who suffered third degree burns in the fall came to give a re-introduction talk as he starts back at the high school. The presentation immediately had me welling up, jarring memories of losing my friend Amy and imagining that her family had to face similar public sessions when her sister Lisa re-entered school from the coma injury she sustained. Our sixth grade class was combined with a fourth grade one to be an example for the younger kids. Questions were blurted about his physical appearance and limitations and some knew only to relate by way of breaking into their own story of "a friend of a friend" or "grandma fell". The mother very delicately waved off the stories but her voice became shakier every time. When it was time for questions, she managed to be very matter-of-fact about his appearance, emphasizing how normal he really was underneath it all. My fascination with hardship and resilience had me wanting to linger after, feeling a need to reach out that was unattainable at that time. I did share a quick exchange and she was excited to learn that I was AmeriCorps, stating she's sure she'd see me around more. I hope so.

Our third book group meeting took place last night to discuss A Year in Paradise. It did not prove incredibly captivating to anyone else besides Loren and I - Sara was neutral while the kids were downright bored - but it provided an interesting discussion nonetheless. Even though I had to drag a reluctant Elijah over to the meeting, even he was in good humor to share from what little he'd managed to read. Our next book will be a fantasy called EarthSea which challenges my typical genre interests. But I'm prepared to learn a lot from the kids about how to appreciate the themes.

I've organized an impromptu writers' group this weekend and had almost 10 kids sign up, a large amount than I'd anticipated. Hopefully they show up. I'm going to bring pizza and drinks to entice. I've been yearning to fuel some creative juices both in myself and the community and thought it would be neat to have a youth-designed publication of "news" stories, and interviews. I've got a couple of ideas to introduce at the start but overall, I'm not quite sure how it will go. I just want to see imaginations challenged.

In contrast to last weekend's snowless adventure, I think I will finally take my snowboard up on Sunday, winter be damned (which, apparently it has been). I learned that Winter Carnival is this weekend and supposedly the expansion really isn't bad. I just have to go up and see for myself and stop waiting for some miraculous "perfect storm".

That's a dangerous trap I could be more attentive to avoid: waiting for perfection...

If you can't board, hike!

Had I been enduring the last couple of weeks of bone-shaking Mitten weather, I might very well be flaunting the bragging trope of "60's and sunny" but the truth is, I've been slightly perturbed that winter has decided to pass us by in the PNW.

The second week into February and it is indeed 60's and sunny. Regardless of what kind of climate crisis this may be indicative of, I am simply sad that I have not been able to cash in on my second year of having lift tickets for snowboarding, which drastically decreases the likelihood of investing in it when I do have to pay once I leave here.

Boarding really did change my bias against winter. Even as I battled the persistent anxieties each time I headed up to the pass, my endorphins ended up on cloud nine by the time I was done. It was good for me.

While the season isn't over, I'm not holding my breath.

The silver lining however, has been that hiking trails that are normally snowed in right now are fairly accessible. So weekends that I'd tentatively marked with "Pass?" on my calendar are now being filled in with hiking adventures.

Last week, the weather had anticipated rain and I lazily justified the possibility as a reason to write off a hiking plan. But by noon, not a drop had fallen and I'd been feeling restless and lethargic. Fed up with such sensations, I headed to Packwood Lake, the only hike of significance that I could think of on such an impulsive notice. It has need failed that the Packwood Lake loop becomes "old" for me for the last mile stretch or so. Yet despite knowing how I'd feel for that stretch, I continue to revisit it. The leisurely level path makes it easy to ponder and walk and the serenity at the lake is worth the trek. And having now seen it at every season, I think this anomalous, snow-free February day was one of my favorite. The dampness of winter lit up the green moss but I wasn't thwarted by the snow that had Tony and I climbing over felled trees and melting patches last March.

It is easy to take the flatness for granted though, and pretend the trail is no big deal. However, the reality of the 9 miles left my hips in a crunch for days. Another reason to keep up this hiking on the regular.

So this weekend, I finally made it up to Tatoosh Ridge, a trail I've been wanting to explore since I came here. Typically snowed in right now, I was informed that it would be completely doable. Hearing about how steep it was, I was prepared for an all-day hike. I left around 8:30am and got about 6 out of the 7 miles up the forest road before hitting a huge wash out, now claim to an impressive waterfall. I decided I'd endured enough pot holes to get that far and trekked the rest of the way to the trail head by foot, passing at least three more raging falls.

Immediately, the trail begins going up with a flight of log stairs. It semi-levels out for a time, leading in mild undulating waves in the path before beginning its series of ever steeper switch backs. The first time rising up the east side of the trail was gorgeous, the morning sun awakening the forest in gold light. At the switch, I turned inward into the shady depths. This transition became more welcome as the incline rose and the layers shed. Habitually one to push on and on, I graciously practiced the art of pause, sitting on root-benches and taking out my journal here and there. About two hours in, I began to sense a break and anticipate the top of the ridge. The mountains beyond were leveling with my line of vision. However, as the path unfolded its trajectory, it appeared to be heading for the precise ridge that was covered in snow. This theory was supported the patches of the stuff that were becoming increasingly less patchy as I progressed. Solid enough, I decided to keep trudging over it until I deemed it impassible. There were other boot prints and a dog so I knew someone had made the venture recently. Fortunately, my eyes were fixated on the snow after my mother and I's experience on Tongue Mountain last year and I spotted the first sign of cougar tracks. Going a few feet further, goat tracks joined the picture and then they stopped, with Cougar prints heading up the hill on my left. Especially being alone this time, I let mr. Cougar dictate the length of my hike. After making it back out of the snow, I found a place to sit by a stream and write some more before heading back down with the forward momentum encouraged by the steep, now-down hills. Come wildflower season, I will definitely be revisiting the ridge, and seeing the top.

Valentines Day Dinner

I've never been too invested in Valentines Day so I guess I've never noticed how society has capitalized on this holiday I always thought was celebrated with intimate plans between couples. Yet come Saturday night, my neighborhood was hooting and hollering by bonfire light, barely outdoing the neighborhood I quickly drove off to for dog-sitting.

I'm not really complaining about the lenient interpretations and it would probably sound less so if I weren't a little bitter about my social isolation. In fact, I rather enjoyed the community's observance efforts on Friday evening.

This year, the Packwood Presbyterian church decided to revive its annual Valentines Day dinner. Traditionally, they'd rallied kids from the high school to come serve and get community service hours for doing so. So about a month ago, I was contacted to be the liaison and make sure there were able-bodied wait-staff by the night of the event. With Lou's help, we were able to 6 of our kids to step up to the plate.

The evening started for us between 3 and 4pm. I made some last minute phone calls to remind kids and by 4:30, everyone was fed and ready to work. Fawn from Blanton's was the head honcho of all things food and treated the kids very professionally, never trying to dumb down or sweet-talk the work at hand. She'd even come prepared with catering garb, instructing each of us to don the white, button-up Chef's jackets and thoroughly emphasizing sanitary procedures. Dinner was to start at 6pm so after prepping salads and rolls, Fawn led us out to the dining area and talked us through how the serving order would go. The kids began to get anxious but excitedly so. By 5:30, guests were arriving and the kids started coming up to Lou and I, asking about taking dinner tickets, eager to serve coffee and very apparently wanting to give it their all. Many of them had never served the public like this before and weren't quite sure how to approach people. It was wonderful to watch them trail out in pairs, gradually getting more confidant as they went from table to table, asking people if they wanted regular or decaf. Behind the scenes, they would come rushing back, eagerly calling out a need for more coffee to be brewed or asking if they should start taking tickets yet.

Serving went by in a whirlwind. Out in the dining area, guests patiently waited as we tried to do one table at a time. As plates took a while to fill, I would remember to dart between assisting the kids and checking on tables for coffee, salads and empty dishes. Naturally, there was a bit of troubleshooting to be done, veering from the system when a table would clump all their tickets together so the kids didn't know their order or when someone had a request they hadn't anticipated. At one point, Calynn had complied to find out how to get hot water for a guest but by the time the water had boiled, she couldn't remember who she'd taken the cup from. She came to me in a frenzy and I got to watch her sort out her responsibility as I told her I couldn't help and that maybe she should just walk out with the cup and the visual memory would kick in. She did and it worked. She came back giddy. After all meals were out, followed by deserts, we began to clear plates and they immediately got to work in the kitchen, emptying into trash bins and stacking into different dish categories. No one even asked about food but it was eagerly welcome when Fawn finally said they should take a break and tables were set up with a feast of their own.

Before the night was over, Lou and the kids and I were called out to be praised for our work. Each one of the kids introduced themselves to the crowd, feeling a deserved job well done.

I was amazed by how much fun the kids had and how open they were to more opportunities like this. I wish there were more vocational experiences like this within school. There is so much more spark for learning when kids have to step up to the plate. Real sense of responsibility demands a presence.

Rockin' Resource Fair and a tangent

The results of this year's team Civic Engagement project are in and the consensus is: most assuredly one of the best yet.

Not that it was hard to beat last year's embarrassing failure (having a bunch of affluent, foodie twenty-somethings trying to teach budget cooking to families that have been budget-cooking for years is not a very effective plan, it turns out). But service project aside, a handful of staff members said it was one of the best things that had happened at the school.

Welcome, students!

With a full gymnasium of representatives for non-profits, local government, colleges and talented individuals, the event exuded a vibrant atmosphere of a well-organized, perhaps even sponsored-looking festivity. At noon, our first round of students swarmed in from the hallways. We began at the 'Game of Life' table where students were encouraged to "play" by choosing the 'college' or 'career' path worksheet that would guide them around to booths to collect life cards as they interacted and got information. It was apparent that some of them had been more or less asleep when the game was explained in class before the event but worksheets or not, I was impressed with how many of the students seemed ready to engage anyhow. College tables quickly gathered crowds and I watched many an astounded face as Ariella explained to kids how you could travel the world for next-to-nothing and experience all sorts of adventure. I jumped back and forth on the microphone, the elusive "littlest big voice" in the room as the Puget Sound Rep called me. An announcement for Katy's photography got the first round of presentations going and was followed by a talk from the Hillahee Garden Club on scholarship and service hour opportunities, both receiving full crowds. In the afternoon, I watched girl's eyes light up as they listened to Kate Fortin explain the perks of going to Evergreen College and before they even said it, I knew they'd found the school they would dream of for the next 4 years of high school.

Kate talks to students about Evergreen

Vicky letting students know about local volunteer opportunities and scholarships

There were some hang-ups to the event, as is the case with any new endeavor. Caught up in the logistics of pulling the thing off, advertising for the after-school portion of the day had been all but forgotten on the Packwood/Randle end. Once the school bell rang, the gymnasium was a VIP lounge of sorts, presenters and booth reps noshing on pizza and candy. Around 3:30, Jeremy and Amanda saved the day, rolling in from Morton with two carfulls of kids; these were the stars of our show for the rest of the afternoon. A late crowd met a major shift in the workshop and presentation schedule and besides not doing my own little workshop, two other presenters went on their way without having a crowd or time to do their gig. I felt bad but they were incredibly understanding and we'd quickly learned some lessons for any future planning of a resource fair: it is not for after school hours.

The day wrapped up with Katy's photo booth workshop which got everyone to participate. With the bonus of having the remaining students stuck with us until their ameridrivers cleaned up, we had a ton of extra hands and were done about an hour before we'd originally thought.

Not only was the event an inspiration to the kids, but I saw a lot of the adults and my fellow AmeriCorps peers going around and inquiring at booths. I know I was beginning to stir restlessly inside as I sat between Ariella's WWOOFing booth and Jeremy's PeaceCorps display, just across from The Evergreen State College, taunting me with far off dreams of intellectual engagement and exciting hands-on learning.

For lack of any real winter weather here, Spring has felt perpetually around the corner. With it comes the daunting question of "where do I go from here?" and despite all wisdom telling me to breathe and focus on the present moment, I cannot silence the anxious mind.

I've jumped all over map. Literally.

Originally, I'd intended to find work in Portland, Olympia, Seattle or some smaller town sort of in their realm. Then I went to Florida and became enchanted with the idea of moving down there to be with my dear friend. Unsure of how feasible that will actually be, my mind continues to flit. And most recently, I've felt great rumblings in my bones that have just about had it with weight and burden and constriction. There is a heat wanting to breathe the air of the open road again. but it is much more than ever before. I have a yearning to rid myself of superfluous wants and desires. Part of me just wants to hurl myself into another country and forge my way. To access that deepest trust that I've only toyed with in my mind, on the brink but never jumping off into its vastness.

I'm looking for somewhere I left off.

Swimmin' with the fishes

Last week, the high school counselor extended an long-awaited invitation to chaperone a field trip! This particular perk has been few and far between this year and although it makes for an incredibly long day, it breaks up the monotony and provides a nice distraction.

I was especially excited about this one because I missed out last year: The Seattle Aquarium!

With four chaperones, the original plan was to split into groups of about 6 and have our particular kiddos to keep track for an hour of roaming. However, with so much to see, I didn't want the kids to have to be tied to one another's pace and once they were set free, our groups quickly became globs of whoever we happened to keep up with. I was able to keep one girl from my group and a tag-along from another.

I thoroughly enjoyed our trio; Taylor was a very bright, engaged girl with a passion for animals, environmentalism and what seemed to already be quite a variable life under her belt. Origianlly from Olympia, she'd attended boarding school in Tennessee, hiked part of the Apalachean trail and worked summers with the Youth Conservation Corps. She was keeping her eye out for sharks the whole time but equally enjoyed the birds, seals and the playful otters that tumbled in circles chasing their own tails. I also got a kick out of her very keen streamline of questions she asked as we observed an male starfish unabashedly performing a lengthy session of out-of-season spawning.

I enjoyed it all but was especially fascinated by the bright colors, obscure appendages and unfathomable accommodations that the more minute classes of coral, urchins and what-have-yous make. In the class portion of the trip after lunch, our "teacher" was explaining a few such adjustments that the starfish have evolved to survive the harsh conditions of living in the ebb and flow of inner tides, mainly the second stomach that they completely invert to store food and maintain flat bodies that allow them to wait out  low tides and safely cling from being thrown back out into treacherous open ocean. I thought about my understanding of "perfection" of human body function and realized that many species of animals have to adapt special quirks to get by; my body isn't the only weird one out there.

The bulk of the class portion consisted of an activity where the kids got to go around to tables of open containers and classify different animals based on observed characteristics, ending up with three distinct categories. Taylor the most on target and engaged in the group and I was continuously impressed with how undeterred she was by second-guessing a hypothesis and challenging her understanding; a growth mind-set in the works is rare form out here.

A model of the project

The class ended with a way-cool explanation for all of the infuriating construction along the waterfront that has caused logistical frustrations on more than one Seattle visit: apparently, this project is an entire re-building of the Seawall that is currently in place to hold back Eliot Bay from inner Seattle. About a hundred years ago, the bay spilled inland and created rich habitats of shallow water for salmon and other animals to thrive. However, it also created the necessity for a complex detour via train to get anything out to port to be exported. And so, up with the wall! A hundred years later, the wooden structure is now degrading and the natural habitat is in great imbalance. A once-healthy salmon population for example, now struggles as young salmon get lost in the dark underneath port docks and the sea bed has been all but starved of the natural food and nutrients.

The current project, projected to be finished in 2017 (although they are already behind) is taking a super innovative, conscientious approach to restoring this ecosystem. Firstly, the Sea wall will be pushed back about 15 feet so that the actual border of the land will be lined instead with an extensively researched surface of various textures and extensions that allow tide animals to cling and thrive during the natural tidal cycles. To solve the navigational dilemma and bring back growth to the sea floor, the pedestrian walkways will be replaced with sidewalk built of light-reflecting glass material, allowing sunlight to reach the bottom of the water. By the end of the class, my tolerance of our navigational inconveniences was certainly increased.

The long day out of town was graciously met with a surprisingly calm yet enjoyable Open Gym. I had gotten together my first project for our after-snack selection and most of the kids got pretty revved up when I introduced "The Making of SLIME!" We took about 20 minutes after our meeting for each to concoct their own take-home portion of the strange polymer, which they got to dye different colors. Afterwards, we still had time for the voted upon game, four corners. It had been a popular choice lately and I hadn't been feeling well enough to really engage in the sports activities. I was finally ready to commit to participating and it felt really refreshing. Like most of their favorites, the game involves a lot of running and dodging balls and since I'm out of practice, I'm sort of a wuss about having things thrown at me but I'm wincing through it ; )

School this week was a little more than the norm as well, which I hope continues. The sixth graders are working on a writing piece and while it is frustrating to see how uninspired they are about writing, it has been rewarding to have one-on-one time with students to edit and try to engage them a level up from where they are at. I have had to feel out where I should stick to the basics of spelling and sentence structure and where I can engage some of the more advanced students in looking at context and complexity a bit more. With my passion for editing, it's hard to discern where to hold back certain input. But I've felt far more useful in this area than with math. In the third grade, they just started a class book so I also get to engage with words in there more. On Tuesday, I got saddled with two of the more distracted students in the class to go in back and read with them separately which was a bit chaotic but again, I was finally more than "overseer".

Tomorrow it will be all-hands-on-deck for our first-ever "youth resource fair" at White Pass. It has been a chaotic project to coordinate on but I feel like our content has ultimately come together to make for a well-rounded program. The only thing is that in all the planning of technicalities, promotion got left way by the wayside. So we're all hoping beyond hope that there is somehow a good turn out.

More on that on the flip-side!

Return again

Hello all,

We have made it through the first month of 2015! 

For me, that has meant a lot of sobbing, a lot of personal time, a lot of diverged attention and a lot of unknown. 

February - generally the unwelcome harbinger of the winter everyone thought was nearing an end - is looking rather appealing. 

January marked the embarkment of a healing process which plunged me into erratic physical uncertainty and layers of emotional heaviness. A couple weeks in, I lost much hope in finding empathetic solace from my Packwood counterpart and have since recently become a louse at communicating about any perceived shortcomings or slackings-off on my part. This may or may not be an issue. I wouldn't know, a la sans communicating. 

I do know that I haven't been comfortable with my performance in AmeriCorps as of late. I've felt under-utilized at school and disheartened and de-motivated by the apathy of students. I have been physically and emotionally fatigued at Open Gym, disinterested in even trying to bother with team exchanges. 

Apparently, I haven't been the only one lacking in the communication department however, because Meghann decided at our meeting on Friday that our team is currently in a "Storming" phase. Essentially, we're a angst, catty group right now. 

This observation led her to implement some restructuring which also began that meeting day. Mainly, Open Gym and Teen Center would have separate sub-division meetings after main meetings on Friday to plan, hash out disagreements and get on the same page. 

Since we currently have at least 5 or 6 members coming to the gym these days, I found this to be really helpful. I'd sort of abandon my voice and effort and I was ready to reclaim some meaning from the program. We came up with the beginning pieces to start structuring special time at the gym split between group games which Kerissa has been good at leading and crafts, experiments and other creative options that I am interested in providing. We also talked about doing a once-a-month Science sort of day where we just do experiments galore. 

All of this "structuring" feels more approachable since we have recently delved into territory of forcing the kids to have group meetings after snack time. The first one went horribly, the second a little better. We've had major behavior problems with kids that are one step away to being kicked out for the rest of the year and they enjoyed whining about the meeting non-stop, making it ten times as long. So I told them that I frankly don't care and that's when we decided we would keep doing them and the kids will either learn to make them fun or make them miserable and waste our whole last hour. 

I am getting a bit more excited again, now that we're abandoning a lot of the things I just sort of took as hand-me-downs when I came to the Open Gym. I don't feel like I have been challenging myself enough lately and after the reflections I've had on my approach to facing the reality of my health, I'm ready to start facing the reality of my work more directly again. 

Things haven't all been horrible during this last month. Cassie managed to hook us up with a Zumba instructor for Girl's Night and I got to dance in a room with about 3 elementary girls for an hour. Ariella hitched off her second Open Mic Night and I enjoyed a talkative car ride with Ellie who performed on fiddle and guitar and graced her vocals on many a karaoke song. The this past week, we had a field trip first to the Rock Climbing gym in Olympia (check that off the list; although I've gotta go back now!) 

At school, I felt somewhat useful when I recommended starting a TED Talk video sharing at Mrs. Shook's class meetings and she'd never even heard of TED! She has to pre-aprove everything so we haven't started yet but I've given her a list of some to look at. 

Our Resource Fair is coming along and I've been kept busy organizing the presenters and workshop leaders. I've also decided to go ahead and wing a Qi Gong workshop for the event. We'll see if there are any takers. 

Aside from AmeriBusys, I've been (mostly) a social recluse. Ariella has been my main exception, accompanying me on out of town excursions so that she can look at car possibilities. It's quite an involved process and we've only ever looked at one in a day before calling it good on that day's mission. So far, we've looked at two cars that were both being unbudgingly sold for way more than either mechanic thought they were worth. But it's a good reason to get out of town and stay socially connected with good friends amidst all this time I've been having to myself. 

When its not lonely, the self time has been helpful also. I've started making paper beads by the dozen and finally knitted my first hat! I'll soon be onto my second one using a more complex pattern. I'm hoping I'll roll enough beads by May to see if Korreanne will sell some bracelets and necklaces in the store over Flea Market weekend (and perhaps beyond). Getting back to a daily dose of writing is a next step. 

Hiking and moving have been nipping at my feet as well. This has been the most miserable year for the Pass since probably 2000, when they apparently had only a week and a half of skiing. I still haven't been up. After a week of June weather though, it is supposed to rain this whole next week so maybe temperatures will drop and give us some powder. 

Since I haven't been able to board, I'm trying to start getting in any snow-free trails I can. Ariella, Brenda, Mark and Katy came down to Packwood last week to hike Silver Falls but for some reason, the road was closed. We decided to park the car anyway and forge in on foot until we got to a break in the woods that looked navigable. We ventured through beautiful bright moss lands and down a steep bed of the stuff to the edge of the rushing stream with small waterfalls trickling from way above. It was gorgeous and the shocking novelty of the crisp air struck me as I realized how long it had been since I'd gone out and enjoyed the gift of PNW oxygen.

This evening, I quietly enjoy more calm than I've felt internally in a while, even though there is still so much on my mental "to do" list. The rest of the world is cheering on the Seahawks. I'm cheering on myself and a new month.