Spring is taking its sweet, slow time making new plants, new leaves, new plans. The lawn grass is all very, very green now. The trees are heavy with promised leaves, although no leaves showing yet. The older, wiser trees are still in their winter drabs. Snowdrifts have melted, leaving behind the detritus of winter. Trash, old leaves, piles of mud and gravel. Nasty looking, really. The wind in Wyoming blows so strongly that any hope of fall yard clean up providing a clean slate for spring gardening is picked up by a gale and dropped elsewhere. Probably Omaha.
It's a true pleasure though to watch the struggle of tiny blades of wheat grass try and push their way through the fallen over, matted, weighed down, thigh high grasses of last fall. Eventually they will prevail, bloom, ripen and be the grass that falls over under the weight of snow banks. Sometimes the baby plants will seek a beam of sunshine seeping through a crack in the sludge weighing them down and take a sideways path into the light. They get there. They grow and mature, but their roots are never as strong and sturdy as the plant that struggled longer and grew straight up to the sunshine. If the sideways plant is knocked over, often you will find a long, undernourished stem, pale from lack of sun, and too weak to hold a plant up straight. There also those that just can't seem to make their way from the bottom of the heap. They slowly suffocate and die.
My quest for a answer to the age-old question "what do I want to be when I grow up?" seems elusive on the best days, and completely unanswerable on the worst. I have had a tendency to follow the easy path, always bearing in mind that sometime in the future I could be a mighty oak. Or at least a beautiful flowering wisteria. I had a mighty oak in mind in my youth. I chose a different path than the developing perennial. I had children, helped them mature, and kept my acorn buried deep. Now that I have to bring my life out of the heap and into the sun, I am having a hard time finding the acorn, let alone the oak. My tendency has been to seek the quick way to the sunshine, the easy path that has some familiarity on the way. I must have grown sideways. I accepted a job in the arena I was most familiar with, not even considering for a moment that this job was the bottom of the heap. I struggled, plastered on my cheery face, volunteered for extra hours, put in time, and yet, I never quite made it off the bottom. Not enough nourishment or sunshine or water. And an annual at that. I would have to make the same struggle each season. I got knocked down fairly fast. When confronted with my mistakes, I felt true regret and shame for the errors I made. The humiliation of the long list of petty complaints waged against me in addition to my confessed mistakes truly emphasized to me that this was never going to be an oak tree. It was a pale zygote under a huge heap of trash, rotting leaves, sludge and the previous green of seasons prior. If I am to grow, I must struggle through the detritus of my life, push straight up, although the path will be more difficult, and seek my sun in another way. Be it a mighty oak, a stately spruce or a beautiful flowering wisteria, the perennial retains its previous growth and becomes stronger and better with each season.
Life is too precious to volunteer for the bottom of the heap.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Monday, April 4, 2011
Observations from the frozen north
I have, for some time, wanted to jot down some of the strange sights and idiosyncrasies of my home town and state, but I never seemed to have the right forum. Well, dear blog followers, you are my chosen audience.
Since my return to the frozen north last fall, I have been, at times amused, at times frustrated, and at times awed by my home.
One can determine some details of the area by simple observation of the retail marketing and habits of the merchants. One of the first things you notice... carts are rarely stored outside. One must enter the market to get a cart. Considering how many days are inclement or WINDY, that makes sense. Also due to the wind.... automatic doors here generally slide open rather than swinging open. Free papers are never stored in racks just inside doors. There is almost always a breezeway entrance with two sets of doors, the first set closing before the second opens. And stoplights are supported by GINORMOUS metal structures akin to steel bridgeworks.
Then you notice that outside is often storage for huge bags of water softener salt, livestock licks, ice melt... notably missing... boxes of firewood or bags of pellets. I am presuming that pellet stoves have never really hit a market here, airtight stoves putting out much more heat and there being no environmental restrictions. And a box of firewood is just plain silly. What you do see is cord upon cord of wood stacked in yards.
My next observation has to do with dining out. There isn't a fast food restaurant on every corner here. In fact , for a city of this size the fast food selection is fairly limited. That's okay with me. I think people eat at home more. What there is to eat here is beef. The best steak you will ever put in your mouth. Truly wonderful, flavorful, melt in your mouth beef. Like no other place on earth. Who on earth needs a Popeye's Fried Chicken when you have big, well-marbled slabs of grass fed local beef? The other thing you notice is every Friday and Saturday night those wonderful steak serving restaurants all sport overflowing parking lots and long waits. The overflowing parking lot... inevitably full of BIG four wheel drive, double or extended cab trucks. Not so many SUVs. Can't haul hay, calves, fencing, etc. in an SUV. My little economy car is dwarfed regularly on all sides by trucks.
Dressed up? You'll fit in. But you'll fit in better in Wranglers or 501 Levis, cowboy boots, flannel or Pendleton shirt, and a big rodeo belt buckle. If you've come to town for dinner, those boots will be dressy and polished, not covered in mud and other substances. It's interesting to watch as the generations mature. I have seen some peculiar fashion statements here. A young man in skinny skater jeans, Hot Topic t-shirt, facial piercings. Boxers in the obligatory six inch exposure on the behind (which, by the way, looks dumb enough with big baggy jeans, but with skinny jeans it is truly absurd). The Wyoming touch? A big shiny jr. rodeo champion belt buckle. Skater? Bullrider? Not really a ridiculous stretch. Risk taker that doesn't mind pain in exchange for glory.
Girls here have a fashion quirk all their own. Fifty degrees? Sunny? That's a good enough excuse for the daisy dukes, halter top and flip flops. I think blue patches and goosebumps are considered a small price for an early start on the tan. People here begin to shed their coats at the first sign of a thaw. Forty degrees is good enough to leave the coat behind. And on the first day of seventy in the spring? Car air conditioners come on and complaints about the heat begin.
Politics here are equally as uniquely Wyoming as the weather and the fashion. This is a REPUBLICAN state. Red as red gets. In fact, Wyoming has the most Republican legislature in the US. Oddly enough, this session the proposal for a ban on gay marriage was voted down. The majority speaker defended his "nay" vote by reading the definition of conservatism and the credo of the Republican party. Individual rights should remain with the individual and should not be determined by the government. Good job. I can respect that. No moralistic speeches about the undermining of traditional marriage or the endangerment of our children. Just simply a statement that one's marriage is, quite frankly, none of the government's business. I was proud to be from Wyoming that day.
I rarely agree with the politics here. I still proudly display my Obama sticker on the bumper of my car. I will soon replace it with Obama 2012. I will always wear a coat when it's chilly. I don't own cowboy boots. I drive a little car. But I proudly claim this as my home. And those rodeo cowboy, skateboarding, truck driving Republicans are my friends and neighbors. Although I do wish I didn't need a water softener....
Since my return to the frozen north last fall, I have been, at times amused, at times frustrated, and at times awed by my home.
One can determine some details of the area by simple observation of the retail marketing and habits of the merchants. One of the first things you notice... carts are rarely stored outside. One must enter the market to get a cart. Considering how many days are inclement or WINDY, that makes sense. Also due to the wind.... automatic doors here generally slide open rather than swinging open. Free papers are never stored in racks just inside doors. There is almost always a breezeway entrance with two sets of doors, the first set closing before the second opens. And stoplights are supported by GINORMOUS metal structures akin to steel bridgeworks.
Then you notice that outside is often storage for huge bags of water softener salt, livestock licks, ice melt... notably missing... boxes of firewood or bags of pellets. I am presuming that pellet stoves have never really hit a market here, airtight stoves putting out much more heat and there being no environmental restrictions. And a box of firewood is just plain silly. What you do see is cord upon cord of wood stacked in yards.
My next observation has to do with dining out. There isn't a fast food restaurant on every corner here. In fact , for a city of this size the fast food selection is fairly limited. That's okay with me. I think people eat at home more. What there is to eat here is beef. The best steak you will ever put in your mouth. Truly wonderful, flavorful, melt in your mouth beef. Like no other place on earth. Who on earth needs a Popeye's Fried Chicken when you have big, well-marbled slabs of grass fed local beef? The other thing you notice is every Friday and Saturday night those wonderful steak serving restaurants all sport overflowing parking lots and long waits. The overflowing parking lot... inevitably full of BIG four wheel drive, double or extended cab trucks. Not so many SUVs. Can't haul hay, calves, fencing, etc. in an SUV. My little economy car is dwarfed regularly on all sides by trucks.
Dressed up? You'll fit in. But you'll fit in better in Wranglers or 501 Levis, cowboy boots, flannel or Pendleton shirt, and a big rodeo belt buckle. If you've come to town for dinner, those boots will be dressy and polished, not covered in mud and other substances. It's interesting to watch as the generations mature. I have seen some peculiar fashion statements here. A young man in skinny skater jeans, Hot Topic t-shirt, facial piercings. Boxers in the obligatory six inch exposure on the behind (which, by the way, looks dumb enough with big baggy jeans, but with skinny jeans it is truly absurd). The Wyoming touch? A big shiny jr. rodeo champion belt buckle. Skater? Bullrider? Not really a ridiculous stretch. Risk taker that doesn't mind pain in exchange for glory.
Girls here have a fashion quirk all their own. Fifty degrees? Sunny? That's a good enough excuse for the daisy dukes, halter top and flip flops. I think blue patches and goosebumps are considered a small price for an early start on the tan. People here begin to shed their coats at the first sign of a thaw. Forty degrees is good enough to leave the coat behind. And on the first day of seventy in the spring? Car air conditioners come on and complaints about the heat begin.
Politics here are equally as uniquely Wyoming as the weather and the fashion. This is a REPUBLICAN state. Red as red gets. In fact, Wyoming has the most Republican legislature in the US. Oddly enough, this session the proposal for a ban on gay marriage was voted down. The majority speaker defended his "nay" vote by reading the definition of conservatism and the credo of the Republican party. Individual rights should remain with the individual and should not be determined by the government. Good job. I can respect that. No moralistic speeches about the undermining of traditional marriage or the endangerment of our children. Just simply a statement that one's marriage is, quite frankly, none of the government's business. I was proud to be from Wyoming that day.
I rarely agree with the politics here. I still proudly display my Obama sticker on the bumper of my car. I will soon replace it with Obama 2012. I will always wear a coat when it's chilly. I don't own cowboy boots. I drive a little car. But I proudly claim this as my home. And those rodeo cowboy, skateboarding, truck driving Republicans are my friends and neighbors. Although I do wish I didn't need a water softener....
Friday, April 1, 2011
Peace....
Many times I've thought of peace as the quietness that surrounds you when you have nothing on your mind, nobody distracting you, no pending chore...
I've nearly finished my first week of training at my new job. It's been challenging and fun. I am enjoying my co-workers, clients, and the general atmosphere. Although for "training" I'm working six days in a row on two different shifts and have been hired in the middle of a joint commission visit and a completely full census, I am finding a nice fit. The days are busy and I don't stay in a chair all day, nor am I running a marathon all day. There is a generous variety of tasks to be completed each shift, and always something extra. I'm nearly through my checklist of competencies with exception to two areas. I have yet to orient on emergency procedures for power outage, tornado, blizzard, national emergency, etc. AND I have yet to be given my driving test on the patient transport van. This is a tall, fourteen passenger plus two wheelchair bus sort of like an airport shuttle. I have driven the regular fifteen passenger van a few times. It's not that much different than the suburban. This one has me intimidated. For one thing, the instructions say clearly "DO NOT ATTEMPT TO BACK UP". Oh dear. What if I have to? We don't go anywhere we have to parallel park, thank Heaven!!!! There is also a sticker on the back that is obviously faded to only the black letters. It proclaims in bold black "THIS VEHICLE DOES NOT". Does not what? Back up? Parallel park? Stop? It's a little scary.
The other area I'm not signed off on yet is anything I have to be trained on by the staff PA C. He has been out sick. Therefore, all first aid related stuff and other "not so pertinent" medical areas have been delayed. For the most part I've had to pick up medication procedures from someone else. Documentation, med counts, urine and breath tests, lab orders etc., are so much a part of every day that by the time the PA C returns, I will be completely competent without his input!
The dog has not been all that happy about me being gone all day every day. He's had several seizures. Poor baby. He will have to adjust. The house looks neglected. And after day one, I was exhausted. That has eased somewhat, I am picking up the pace quickly. Meals have been a bit off, shopping will be a challenge, laundry is piling up.
It's very strange to go from a completely 'home-centered' life into a 'work-centered' life. I hope to achieve a balance there. At some point I will transition into part time hours (24 per week) and start classes next fall. It is very good.
Despite the tiredness, the full brain, the worry over the dog, the home chores being neglected, what I feel is peace. Peace that I haven't felt in many, many months. I am coming to learn that peace does not equal solitude and quiet. Peace equals contentment and security. All is well with my soul.
I've nearly finished my first week of training at my new job. It's been challenging and fun. I am enjoying my co-workers, clients, and the general atmosphere. Although for "training" I'm working six days in a row on two different shifts and have been hired in the middle of a joint commission visit and a completely full census, I am finding a nice fit. The days are busy and I don't stay in a chair all day, nor am I running a marathon all day. There is a generous variety of tasks to be completed each shift, and always something extra. I'm nearly through my checklist of competencies with exception to two areas. I have yet to orient on emergency procedures for power outage, tornado, blizzard, national emergency, etc. AND I have yet to be given my driving test on the patient transport van. This is a tall, fourteen passenger plus two wheelchair bus sort of like an airport shuttle. I have driven the regular fifteen passenger van a few times. It's not that much different than the suburban. This one has me intimidated. For one thing, the instructions say clearly "DO NOT ATTEMPT TO BACK UP". Oh dear. What if I have to? We don't go anywhere we have to parallel park, thank Heaven!!!! There is also a sticker on the back that is obviously faded to only the black letters. It proclaims in bold black "THIS VEHICLE DOES NOT". Does not what? Back up? Parallel park? Stop? It's a little scary.
The other area I'm not signed off on yet is anything I have to be trained on by the staff PA C. He has been out sick. Therefore, all first aid related stuff and other "not so pertinent" medical areas have been delayed. For the most part I've had to pick up medication procedures from someone else. Documentation, med counts, urine and breath tests, lab orders etc., are so much a part of every day that by the time the PA C returns, I will be completely competent without his input!
The dog has not been all that happy about me being gone all day every day. He's had several seizures. Poor baby. He will have to adjust. The house looks neglected. And after day one, I was exhausted. That has eased somewhat, I am picking up the pace quickly. Meals have been a bit off, shopping will be a challenge, laundry is piling up.
It's very strange to go from a completely 'home-centered' life into a 'work-centered' life. I hope to achieve a balance there. At some point I will transition into part time hours (24 per week) and start classes next fall. It is very good.
Despite the tiredness, the full brain, the worry over the dog, the home chores being neglected, what I feel is peace. Peace that I haven't felt in many, many months. I am coming to learn that peace does not equal solitude and quiet. Peace equals contentment and security. All is well with my soul.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)