"Whoo hoo!" she said. Off the deep end.

Sometimes school kicks my butt. This week: not so bad. Last week: wanted to scratch the eyes out of my math professors head and rip my five pound, 150 dollar math book to shreds. Worry not, the urge to gouge out my professor's eyes is no longer a burning desire. They shall stay firmly intact. Unless I failed my math test. Things might dive off the deep end again if that's the case.

Bad, Ellie.

Usually I don't swear. This morning, I did.

Work starts at 7:00am. My drive is approximately 40mins long. This morning I woke up at 7:11am.

Stupid cell phone alarm.

Cliche as it is, life is beautiful.

Wednesday morning ramble:

Getting up in the dark is almost as bad as arriving at work and finding you forgot your lunch. However, a good nights sleep goes a long way in combating the inevitable bad mood that follows.

A few weeks ago I got three Guppy fish from Walmart. Usually I just have one or maybe two fish, but I've never had three; and because I had three it was decided that Will, Audrey and I would each claim and name one. Wills is grey with a spotted tail and now has a name that ends with "Fiasco" but the first part of which I don't remember. The other grey fish, with an orange dot over his stomach is Audreys; his name is Cush. My fish is rainbowy orange and his name is DR. Yes--DR. It actually has nothing to do with the Doctor type DR, but rather stands for "Double Rainbow", because he looks like he has a rainbow on either side of his belly. And for some strange reason when I thought of "double rainbow" the acronym was the second thing that came to my head and thus he was dubbed "DR". Poor fish--what odd names they have. Guess it's better then calling them Spotty, Orangy and Grey...y.

Right about now I'm ready to start school back up. It's been a long summer--a good one, don't get me wrong, but a long one. I've really enjoyed my work; got to hike trails, get involved with incidents within the park, talk with visitors and explore the incredible wilderness I've lived by my whole life. Not a bad gig. But now it's time for Portland, bubble tea, my own little room at Ty and Kelse's and a bit of homework to keep my brain busy.

This school year will be good. Not only is the living situation better (didn't mind having a roommate, but dorm life isn't my fav), but my weekends can now be used for going out and doing things with people on their time off instead of needing the weekend to recover from socializing.

Just a few minutes ago a man came into Canfield and started talking about what this building looked like in 1956-57 when he worked here on the roads crew. He said they had dances in the maintenance building once every other week and that his sister played swing piano for them to jive to. There were bunks and bathrooms upstairs where our offices are now. Where I work used to be a cafeteria. He said one time a couple of his friends created a volcano shaped thing out of moss with a hole in the middle. They made it in the middle of the creek and then told the rangers that they had found something. An uproar (of some variety) was caused, news papers were printing things about this strange formation that an unknown animal made, and a man from Washington DC came all the way out to view it. The boys who made the fake animal formation never told anyone it had been them. Most likely the phenomenon faded away and people eventually forgot. But some didn't. Some like this guy.

As I watched him talk about how he was a senior in high school the first time he came up here and how his grandfather helped build the road around the lake, his father helped create trails and how every year he would clear the trails of snow and rocks, I was smiling. Things mean so much more when there's history behind all of it. Something in me wanted to cry too. So many lives; so many beautiful hearts, wandering souls, all come to places like this to find peace; they find solace in quiet space and an National Park brotherhood.

Cliche as it is, life (the actual breathing, feeling, living thing inside everyone) is beautiful.

To the rocks

Occasionally I get in these moods to go rock climbing. So I watch a few videos on Youtube, look at a few Nat Geo photos of epic rock climbers and I get excited... and impressed.



Then I watch things like this and my mind goes berzerk. I want to climb every climbable object in sight:




And after that I start imagining things like this:

Filing Status:

Today when I was plugging in numbers for FAFSA a great sense of thankfulness came over me that my parents Income Tax Return status was: "Married/Joint".

Rather Today

In store for tomorrow: hiking Union Peak with Raisa (a fellow Dispatcher).

In the process of reading: Searching For God Knows What -- Donald Miller is re-instilling my belief that anyone can pick up the Bible and understand a little bit of God. Sometimes formal Bible teaching seems to get in the way of the original intent of the Bible's message; stories to teach, visuals to learn from. Miller's curious explorations into the minds of the humans of the Bible has spurred me to start reading in a similar state of mind.

Grandma and Grandpa gave us a bucket full of apples they picked up north; they are the best green apples I've ever tasted. The kind you bite into and a flood of warm breezes, sunshine, dirt, water and all matter of earthiness seeps into your mind and brings forth memories childhood.

Speaking of Grandma and Grandpa: they came up to Crater Lake today. Grandma and I gave blood and then the three of us had lunch on an overlook by the lake. Good day.

Ready for the night to end; for the the sun to finish it's orange setting and for the dark car ride back to my cool, cushy bed.

"God will show up"

Never understood that phrase. I mean, isn't God everywhere all the time? Sort of bugs me that we would insinuate he's only in one place--our place, this place.

I don't think that's how it works.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

It's Tuesday evening. I watch as a very small spider weaves his silver web.

Agile and dexterous, he transfers the shining string from one back leg to the other back leg and attaches it to the current perpendicular string. He scampers to the next. More silver string; transfer, attach.

His movements are fluid and rapid; focused and efficient.

Half way around his circled Kingdom a small green Midge bounces off the sticky threads and is caught. Spider ceases the web-work and gallops over.

A multi-second struggle and the midge discontinues its frantic shaking. Spider wraps his magic threads twice around the green giant and carrys him to the center of the web. He hangs midge by the backside with one thread and resumes his web spinning. All within a matter of thirty seconds.

Spider is very efficient indeed.

--

Long morning.

Unceasing, drizzling, rain.

Persistent, cloudy, tiredness.

Pops and I went on a 6 hour motorcycle ride. Took our bikes out toward Sprague river. Went on back roads, highways; up mountains, down into valleys. It was a good day. Today, however, I'm paying for it with exhaustion and inability to focus.

Worth it?

Without a doubt.

Once I get home I'll have a few photos to put on here. So you'll get a taste of the day.

Adios for now; back to "work".

Precious eyes and faithful feet.

Finally got the opportunity to see my nephew face to face. The picture speaks for itself when it comes to how absolutely, inexplicably adorable the little ardvark is. Soft tiny fingers and toes. Big, round, expectant eyes. A perfect example of the beauty of creation.



Mama, Carrie and I ran the Fueled by Wine half-marathon in Newberg. It was fun. It was painful; the landscape stunning.


Us and our stunning running dos.



"It is awfully hard work doing nothing. However, I don't mind hard work where there is no definite object of any kind."
- Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest, Act 1

The Standing Still of Old Man Time

Hiawatha's Childhood

"By the shores of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
Stood the wigwam of Nokomis,
Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis.
Dark behind it rose the forest,
Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees,
Rose the firs with cones upon them;
Bright before it beat the water.
Beat the clear and sunny water,
Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.
There the wrinkled old Nokomis
Nursed the little Hiawatha.
Rocked him in his linden cradle,
Bedded soft in moss and rushes,
Safely bound with reindeer sinews;
Stilled his fretful wail by saying,
"Hush, the Naked Bear will hear thee!"
Lulled him into slumber, singing,
"Ewa-yea! my little owlet!
Who is this, that lights the wigwam?
With his great eyes lights the wigwam?
Ewa-yea! my little owlet!"
Many things Nokomis taught him
Of the stars that shine in heaven;
Showed him lshkoodah, the comet,
lshkoodah, with fiery tresses,
Showed the Death-Dance of the spirits,
Warriors with their plumes and war-clubs
Flaring far away to northward
In the frosty nights of winter;
Showed the broad white road in heaven,
Pathway of the ghosts, the shadows,
Running straight across the heavens,
Crowded with the ghosts, the shadows.
At the door on summer evenings,
Sat the little Hiawatha,
Heard the whispering of the pine-trees,
Heard the lapping of the waters,
Sounds of music, words of wonder;
"Minne-wawa!" said the pine-trees,
"Mudway-aushka!" said the water.
Saw the fire-fly Wah-wah-taysee,
Flitting through the dusk of evening,
With the twinkle of its candle
Lighting up the brakes and bushes,
And he sang the song of children,
Sang the song Nokomis taught him;
"Wah-wah-taysee, little fire-fly,
Little flitting, white-fire insect,
Little, dancing, white-fire creature,
Light me with your little candle,
Ere upon my bed I lay me,
Ere in sleep I close my eyelids!"
Saw the moon rise from the water,
Rippling, rounding from the water,
Saw the flecks and shadows on it,
Whispered, "What is that, Nokomis?"
And good Nokomis answered:
"Once a warrior, very angry,
Seized his grandmother, and threw her
Up into the sky at midnight;
Right against the moon he threw her;
'Tis her body that you see there."
Saw the rainbow in the heaven,
In the eastern sky the rainbow,
Whispered, "What is that, Nokomis?"
And the good Nokomis answered:
"'Tis the heaven of flowers you see there;
All the wild-flowers of the forest,
All the lilies of the prairie,
When on earth they fade and perish,
Blossom in that heaven above us."
When he heard the owls at midnight,
Hooting, laughing in the forest,
"What is that?' he cried in terror;
"What is that," he said, "Nokomis?"
And the good Nokomis answered;
"That is but the owl and owlet,
Talking in their native language,
Talking, scolding at each other."
Then the little Hiawatha
Learned their names and all their secrets,
How they built their nests in summer,
Where they hid themselves in winter,
Talked with them whene'er he met them,
Called them "Hiawatha's Chickens."
Of all beasts he learned the language,
Learned their names and all their secrets,
How the beavers built their lodges,
Where the squirrels hid their acorns,
How the reindeer ran so swiftly,
Why the rabbit was so timid,
Talked with them whene'er he met them,
Called them "Hiawatha's Brothers." "

- by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Lookin' for my radio, so I can find a heart to follow.

Woke up singing this song. It'd been a while since I'd heard it, so I immediately played it on YouTube. Satisfied to find it's still a good song.

(Tyler: bring back memories?)

the french: masters of the obvious.

Sometimes Yahoo news finds the most amusing things to comment on. Click on the smile for a smile: :)

When your soul embarks.

Can't stop singing "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie. So here you go, click here. Now you won't be able to stop singing it.

Headline News.
Kate is having her baby.

Footline News.
I have four days off in a row.

Sub-footline News.
This green apple I'm eating is absolutely delicious.

Good stuff.

...

I've seen your flag on the marble arch
love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

65 mph, headed home.

Long day, 9 hours; most of them spent in a black, cushy chair, gazing at a black, square screen.

Across my lap and arm, streaks of sunlight hover and flicker. As if to match the lethargic country song drifting from the radio, the tires hum on the baking asphalt.

I have reached the end of National Park boundaries and Ponderosa pines. A new redolence suffuses the air. Meadow, lots of it; vibrant, seductive greens. Flat planes, flecked with Dandelions, dissected by brimming streams. Elephantine cows muddling through clipped blades of grass; chewing, chewing, chewing.

One week till Kate is due, I think.
One day until I'm off work for the weekend, I think.

"Are you gonna kiss me, or not? Are we gonna do this or what? I think you know I like you a lot, I think we've got a real good shot... are you gonna kiss me, or not?"
... Oh Kix96.

The barn has deteriorated, is nearly gone but for the long hours and sweat put into it; things like that aren't forgotten easily. The General Store says it's open. They've even got their fresh donuts.

One morning I'll come get one of those before work, I think.

To my left, my old house; my old ponderous Ponderousa pine trees that "paint with all the colors of the wind"*...

One of these days I'll go back into those woods and find our old fort, I think.

One of these days, I think.

The hairs on my arm raise; back into the woods on the other side of the meadow. Through the stop signs that are "more like guidelines anyway."**

One of these days I'll actually stop, I think.

Blinker; wait as a car whizzes passed. No more ruts as I enter the driveway.

One of our neighbors must have filled those in, I think.

Up the driveway, back into the sun. I step out of the car and smell the engine, delirious and disgruntled.

One of these days I'll go the posted 45mph, I think.

Pat on the car door. Crunch through the gravel and up the steps to meet the dogs. They whine and lick and sniff and bounce around as if I'd been gone for centuries. A scratch behind the ear for each.

One more scratch, I say.

Home. Tea on the table in my uniform with my dad in his uniform.

One of these days we'll get a picture together in our park uniforms, I think.

How was your day? I say.
Good, he says.
What did you do? I say.
A lot of stuff, he says. Cleaned the bathrooms, did some paperwork, went and collected stuff from the campground, made a firewood sign.
Pretty productive, I say?
Yeah, he says.
Good, I say.

We sit and drink, eat our grapes and soak in the orange light.

That's good, I think. This is all so very good.








*Pocahontas song reference.
**Pirates of the Caribbean quote.

After the rain.

There are many ways to spend a day.
Of those, here be one;
A magnificent one,
Profuse in silence,
Warm with peace,
Cleansed and unbrushed.

After the rain,
I take my thoughts,
I take my tea,
I take all that swims,
In a brain,
I take;
And then I give,
And let the rain,
And let the tea,
Do it's work,
It's grand work.

All shall be,
All is well,
On this day.
All,
Is well.

This songmakes you wanna dance your socks off.

what is good and what is right.

"Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn't do it, sins." - James 4:17

All of James has me feeling convicted right now.

Crack-a-lackin'

Broke my nose.



First bone in the body to break. Check that off my Bucket List.

Left side Seios Etmoidais (above the left Seio Maxilar) was pushed down below right Seios Etmodais, causing a dent on left side of nose.





All that's needed to fix the devil? Ten minute surgery where they stick something up my nose and snap the bone back up in place. A splint is then added for support.



Viola! Just like new.

A few shots of England. Should give a very small taste of our month in the UK.

Not. Again.

Third drug test in the past week and a half, and NOT because I didn't pass the former two. Apparently the place I keep going to doesn't know how to do paperwork.

I'll be lucky if I have any pee left.

Crabs and Coruscations