who buys your sugar?

So the other night I was at Jeremy’s new house and made some coffee. I asked where the sugar was. “We don’t have any, who buys your sugar?”

“My mom”

“That’s why we don’t have any sugar”

Then I was given this cool tent. I think it is disproportionately tall, but I welcome that after sleeping in the “Squeeze Inn” for several years.

I also got some poision Ivy on my hands. If you have ever had it, you will recognize those little bumps.

I set off some illegal bottle rockets to celebrate our freedom

A car I saw geo-caching

I’ve been doing some organizing. Asher snagged a dresser and chest from along the road and I organized my camping stuff in them. Then I went through a pile of candles that came from a dumpster months ago: some will become fire starters and I might find a normal use for the rest.

Asher and I went to the fire works last night. Joella had my camera so I didn’t get any pictures. I would have had some good ones: we found a killer spot to watch the sparks that went boom. We parked next to a construction site, walked down a back road, ducked into a hedge row, waded through briars and poison to our perfect overlook of Marietta.

Just this evening Asher and I set off some illegal bottle rockets to celebrate our freedom. Here are the pictures.

1 rocket

125 rockets

The thing still buzzes right along

I thought this was a cool picture. I saw the guy mowing and thought it would be worth displaying on my blog. With all the rain we have had, I'm sure he will be giving lots of mower rides.

The rain we got this week was a lot like the rain we got in Kenya. It was a steady, almost downpour that went on for a while. The only difference is that in Kenya the mud becomes really slippery (even more so than snow). My good friend RAY discovered this while descending a bank in a skirt.

My car broke down. Well, actually it has been continuing a problem started back two years ago. Its the alternator and it's related accessories not working correctly. A motor mount is also broken and could be contributing to some shifting difficulties. But I'm not worried, if it surrenders to all of these ailments and gives up the ghost I have two bikes which I could ride.

It's been years since I rode bike. But last night I got out my road bike and took for a ride. The thing still buzzes right along, although the digital speedometer doesn't work perfectly. If I would ride that to work I would be skinny in no time.

And now a program note: After reviewing the purpose of this blog "to say what I want to..." I decided that having you find 149 in each picture wouldn't be in keeping with my purpose. Right now I don't feel like hiding 149, so to hide it would be doing somthing that I don't want to do. And that is a violation of my principle.

Liberate some dumpster finds

This next week is gonna rock. My three sisters are at camp, Asher has the grill set up on the deck, and my parents are on a raft in the Grand Canyon (the real one, not the PA version). Did I mention that my boss is in Montana? Can life get any better? I submit that it cannot. Ok, so maybe Sarah could make a surprise visit and we could go to the Creation Festival together, but I’m thinking that won’t be happening. But grilling every night on the deck is going to happen. Asher has some killer grilling skills and we are going to liberate some dumpster finds from the freezer.

Speaking of dumpsters: we made a haul last night. The last thing I expected to bring home on a hot humid night was a garbage bag full of cheese. The meat, cheese, and milk season has been over for a while but last night we got to the dumpster and the cheese was still cold: fresh from the store. We hauled out three boxes of varying types along with some Lebanon bologna.

My days geocaching are going better. With some online mapping I’ve been better able to plan routes and trips. If any of you ever want to go, it’s always more fun with more people. I’m thinking about doing some hides around E-town. The borough only has four and Mount Gretna has more than twenty. E-town shouldn’t be a second rate caching town to Mount Gretna.

Asher and I had some fun last night. We drove through town trying to build a global community. I saw a guy on his porch so I greeted him with a wave and “hey Steve!” Apparently he was building a global community as well because he responded. There was a couple across from the music store and Asher gave them a thumbs up.

As part of a new feature on my blog each entry will have the number 149 hidden somewhere in a picture. Be the first to describe it’s location in a comment and I’ll say something cool about you. You may have to zoom in on some of the pictures to look close enough.

Headgear for Hicks

So I have these two really cool hats, or at least I think they are cool. But I’m finding that they are not so culturally relative around here. Maybe I’ll wait until I go back to school or some other appropriate area.

I just got the furry one. It’s a Russian military hat that my parents got me for my birth day. It’s made from real rabbit’s fur and when you put the ear flaps down your entire head is surrounded by a soft furry feeling: amazing. I might remove the red pin with the hammer and sickle-I’m not big on promoting communism. Maybe I could use the pin as a tie pin to generate conversation in those awkward formal settings

Play Ball!

I haven’t played softball since the summer of ’01: the last summer I was home. It’s a lot of fun and my swing seems to be about the same (which is a good thing). Last night we had a game against our rivals, Mount Calvary. We beat them for the sixth time in a row. They had a double header and I was scheduled to be their base umpire. In the entire game I made only one call, and a rather controversial one at that. The runner (a member of mount Calvary) slid into second and the throw was high. The second baseman jumped to catch the ball. Did his foot leave the base? There was a huge cloud of dust and I called him “out at second”. Now I know what it is like to have a whole team yell at you. But on the other hand, I had a whole team supporting my call.

And here are some of the goofy expressions I wear when I play, compliments of Asher.

Photos and fun

Ok, so here are a bunch of pictures. I had the worst time getting them up.

Our Wilderness First Responder instructor Ken puts a neck brace (sleeping pad) on Torry

This is the Star Lake campus. Some buildings are hidden, but generally people should want to take classes at a place like this.

That's me either thinking about Sarah or pondering if God is within time or outside of time.

I honored our fallen heros on memorial day by "pulling my weight" around the house. This is a before shot.

This is after I was done. The whole thing took me about 7hrs of work and cost $20. That's a mennonite Landscaper for you. A big thanks to Anita for helping glue the caps ( I couldn't have done it without you)

Randomness/Rambleness

So I usually post a picture or two and have some cleverly worded story to accompany it. But not this time. The internet doesn’t work upstairs where my pictures are. So instead of an entertaining story, I’ll just ramble.

Life is funny, but people are funnier. In reflecting on how I write my blog entries (do I over analyze my life?) I’ve realized that I’m conforming to a trend. People don’t like to share what’s closest to them. I don’t disclose details about how I feel about Sarah, or about God working in my life. In church people offer prayer requests for aunt Hilda and a neighbor’s friend, but do people share what is closest to them? Not generally. I could go on and offer some semi-insightful concluding thoughts but right now I only have two things to say: I’m tired, and I miss Sarah. It was crazy hot at work to day and it’s worn me out. At one point I picked up my hard hat and a pool of sweat had formed a puddle in it-running out of the head band. If I go to bed now I can wake up in the morning and one of my two problems will be fixed. On a side note, this is the first summer since ’01 that I’ve been around to work and play softball. Somehow I have to write a sermon by late July, any ideas. I wish God would be more direct about such things.

Blood and Gutts

Star Lake, NY. It's a cool place. (I would post pictures, but I don’t have my USB cable) There are some buildings, the woods, and of course a lake. And I'm here for 10 days. I'm studying, and it’s all about wilderness medicine. I find it all incredibly intriguing. The body is amazing. There is so much that a person can know about it. Maybe I should go to medical school.

Or maybe not. It would take more years than I ever would want to spend in one place. Besides, backcountry medicine is so much cooler. You can do more stuff with less education (that sounds scary). Then there is the adrenaline rush: something about seeing blood and guts helps you forget how little sleep you had. Today we walked onto a scenario that was as bad as it gets. Shelby lost a hand, Tim had a sucking chest wound and was spitting blood, but Torrie was the worst: his guts came out. So we did our best to fix them up. These situations make a dislocated shoulder seem like a walk in the park.

While I love this knowledge, it makes me realize some of the situations I’ve been in and not realized the risk, or the risks that I’ve taken in the past. Hopefully if I ever encounter serious physical disability on the trail I’ll remember my stuff. It’s a shame I’m involved in all the mock situations-I could have some really cool looking pictures.

Morbidity

This past week two children have died in equipment related accidents in Lancaster County. A six year-old was run over by a skid loader. And a three year-old Amish boy suffocated in a fertilizer spreader.
We work with equipment a lot at work. Skid loaders, tractors, dump trucks and stuff like that are all part of the daily routine. As spring wears on we have become even busier than normal. Organization and maintenance get left behind. This Thursday it caught up with us and I watched as our equipment destroyed a young life innocently standing his front lawn.
The trailer was parked on a hill in a development. It’s a peaceful development, the kind where children play in the yard and parents walk their dogs and chat with neighbors. I hitched the trailer up with-out giving it much thought: crack the jack, latch the ball, add the safety chains and attach the break-away brake. As my boss pulled away up the hill the hitch bounced off of the ball. Apparently I had failed to fasten it correctly. But that’s what safety chains are for: catching my mistake. The big moment for the safety chains came and their hooks bent without slowing the trailer at all. The break-away brake that should have locked all four of the trailers wheels didn’t trigger.
I ran along side trying to block the wheels with 6”x 6” blocks, but 22 feet of run away steel will do whatever it wants. In this case it wanted to go down hill through a development as fast as it could. The first thing it hit was the set of skid loader forks we had left on the shoulder of the road. They spun around and redirected the trailer a few degrees: on a bearing through a yard. As I sprinted in vain I realized that things were about to get worse.
He really didn’t deserve to get maimed. But sometimes you are in the wrong spot at the wrong time. And he was in the wrong spot and this was the wrong time. He had stood there and watched us work for most of the day. He never said anything: just watched. But that wasn’t unusual, that kind of thing happens in developments all the time.
I guess what happened to him was a lot like getting hit by a truck: a lot of metal hitting really fast. When the trailer stopped he was laying in the grass. We didn’t really know what to do. I had never been in this situation before. We pulled the trailer off of him and loaded him into the truck.
It took several hours but he was resuscitated. I had to find a pressure treated post and some stain, but I was generally able to reconstruct him. His little red flag still worked and I managed to reuse his numbers. We dug a new hole the next day and he stood there and watched us finish the job.

Weekend Warrior

Guillermo and I by the "Squeeze Inn"

The past 40 hrs have been crazy. Friday night the backpacking class fit ourselves into the school van and drove to Potter Country. After being lost in a State Forest for a while the ever-confident Hibb found the trail head. The hours that followed made me feel like I was living a Backpacker Magazine article: first timers setting up a tent, the “oh, I forgot my toothbrush”, and the scary stories around the fire. We couldn’t have asked for a nicer trail to hike. It was a slight downgrade that followed a mountain creek for miles on end. No wonder they call it “God’s country.”

The "Global Night Commute"

We got back just in time for me to leave for Rochester. I’ve never gone to any kind of political activism event. I’m not sure how much Invisible Children is into activism, but camping with 200 other people in downtown Rochester was cool. By “cool” I mean that the night was a swirl of people talking, cars going by, city lights glaring, and strangers offering to buy donuts and coffee. I took my prayer shift at 5:30 am and we started the 3 mile commute to our van by 6:30.

At the moment I’m pretty worn out, but the weekend was just the break I needed from assignments.

You see crazy stuff driving...

Story #1

Some knuckle head decided to crash into a restaurant in Lewistown, so my return trip to school became a little longer. Two lanes of cars were fitting themselves into one. I was giving the two flatbeds in front of me some space when an 1970s RV with a grandpa at the controls made a decision he now regrets. Following a dump truck in the right lane wasn’t good enough for him, he wanted that spot in front of me and he wanted it bad. I started to blow my horn as I saw he was going to cut me off, but the tin box on wheels never got that far. In his excitement he gunned the engine and swerved, just not well enough to avoid the dump truck. Seeing the awning being ripped off the side of his RV at 10mph was about the funniest thing I’ve seen. It reminded me of bulldozer smashing the slums of Nairobi, a shattering sound from cheap metals and plastics. I couldn’t help but smirk at Grandpa as we coasted by.

Story #2

I was about 3 miles from home when an older blue car darted backwards down a driveway and across the road in front of me-half burying itself in the bank. It was on a dangerous corner so I decided to assist the situation. If the car had keys or a driver the extraction would have been quicker. After knocking on a door I gave the half dressed homeowner the classic “is that ther yer car settin in bank?” I heard a women’s voice from inside “I told you that #@!$er’s e-brake didn’t work.” Five minuets and a lot of cussing later the car was back on the driveway.

Therapy: the cure for spring fever

Spring fever is setting in. In High School and Rosedale it was the kind of feeling that made you want to take off your shoes and lie in the shade of leafy maples. But no, that kind of spring fever doesn't happen here. There are no leafy maples, and taking off your shoes could be risking frost bite. I don't have that kind of spring fever.

I have the "I don't feel like doing anything" kind of spring fever. Its the kind of mood that lures you into playing Halo for hours on end. I really think it is a defense mechanism of the mind. Like your body, the mind will simply slow down or refuse to behave if you overwork it.

But there is hope and I think I've found the cure.

I've been going to therapy regularly and appear to be improving. Twice this past week I went therapying, usually for 7-8hrs. Tuesday was an "under the stars" session and it got a little cold around 4am. Sunday night's session was particularly renewing. I staked out my portable rehabilitation center and slid into my mummy bag, letting the sound of the rain rehabilitate me. My backpacking class has a required group therapy session this weekend, but I'll be back in time to go to Rochester for a Saturday night massive group session to help the children in Uganda. Details at http://www.invisiblechildren.com/theMovement/globalNightCommute/

Three adventures with "29537"

When I spend time with Adventurer 29537 I never know what might happen. We did several things worthy of mention in the past week.

First, we went to Goodwill. The “Bargain Bin” scored me a sweet costume. For 50 cents I BECAME BATMAN. What could be cooler than a Batman costume? How about standing up out of the sun roof of a gold Honda civic while your cape flaps in the wind! (Children remember; don’t try this at home. Unlike Batman, you are not a superhero and can’t stand up in a gold Honda civic just because you have a costume.)

Secondly, we are driving through Lancaster and Adventurer 29537 remembers that he knows a Muslim guy who works at a fitness club and that he will give us free smoothies if we come in. We never found the Muslim guy (Remade?) and we certainly did not get free smoothies, but we did get a tour of the place. A woman showed us all around with a very fabulous narration: “this is the free weight area, we have 14 benches and 2,700 pounds of weight…" Each bench had some buff 25 year-old on it lifting more weight than Rosedale has in their weight room. And the whole time I’m thinking: “smoothie.” We left an hour latter without smoothies but with an offer to “come back tomorrow and try a free work out.” The hot tub looked pretty tempting.

Lastly, Adventurer 29537 had to stop at the store to do some shopping. I needed some stuff for my lunches so I headed around back. I have never in my life seen such an enormous pile of snack food! About a case of chips had been opened and dumped out, so I waded in with my chacos. I was surrounded by about 40,000 calories of junk food! It was awesome. I only wanted a few goodies so I was in and out in about a minuet and back to the Bat mobile in time to see Adventurer 29537 come out $10 poorer.

I have cold toes today

There isn’t supposed to be snow on the ground. It isn’t supposed to be 20 degrees out. It’s supposed to be sunny, with green grass, fresh air, and flowers. But it doesn’t know any better. For the time being I’ll stay chained in the dorm so I don’t give my chacos frost bite.

And while I’m chained I’ll be reading my maps. I’ve developed an odd obsession with maps recently. I think it started when I got an atlas of the US for Christmas. Then I spent money on an atlas of New York State. But knowing every road in the state wasn’t enough. I need to know every building, stream, elevation change, dirt road, and marsh! So convinced the United States Geological Survey to sell me a Topo map of my area. But there is so much more to know. I’m making a birthday list for all three of you who get me gifts (this excludes Sarah, but includes Boni and Anita). This list will include: world maps, a GPS unit, a PA state atlas, and a personal cartographer.

Basic Survival

For my homework, sometimes I get to go on weekend-long hiking trips through the lowlands away from school. This particular friday I was in a hurry and packed almost no food. By Sunday I was rather hungry, and miles from a dumpster. By lashing my knife to a branch, and lying motionless in the shallow stream for hours, (hurray for GoreTex) I was able to bag enough venison to not only feed me, but also fill my pack for those cozy evenings back in the dorm, when I have a hankering for some good steaks, grilled on the heatsink of my roommate's sound system, a device I have been thankful for since the passing of Sir Heater.

Terror and Panic: I almost died.

For me it is fundamentally terrifying to be inside something that is underwater. If it ever happened, I would panic. As soon as the water closed in reason would flee and my body would fight the walls in a vain hope of oxygen.

And so, I’ve decided to face my fear.

The first time I sat in a kayak it took me almost two minuets to wiggle my legs and hips down into the boat. The whole time the little devil of my fear sat on my shoulder screaming “YOU ARE GOING TO DIE!” Somehow, deep inside, I agreed with him. The two life guards on the side of the pool were a bit reassuring, except that when I was upside-down they wouldn’t’ be able to see me struggling against my plastic grave.

My kayak was in the water now. Charlie, my instructor, told me “just roll under water and pull the skirt off the boat and swim out.” The voice on my shoulder whispered: “You are going to run out of air before you even get out of the boat.” I squeezed my eyes closed trying to ignore the voice; then I rolled to the right.

The water that closed around me was a suffocating blanket. It poured into my nostrils-a violent army overtaking my lungs. My mind panicked. I thought of those lifeguards on the edge of the pool, too far away to save me. Half drowned I realized the voice from my shoulder had been right. Why hadn’t I listened to him back on the concrete? Why didn’t I just stay in my room and study tonight? I didn’t want to die! Charlie wasn’t going to save me; he didn’t want to interfere with my learning the basics. I was about to black out. I had to do something! My hand tried the one thing that that Charlie had said to do. The release cord was only 18inches away, but it took my half drowned mind an eternity in the upside-down wet darkness to find it. The last thing I remember was pulling the cord.

Standing in the pool next to my boat I realized that the life guard’s conversation hadn’t progressed more than a few sentences. Charlie’s “good job! Ready to roll with a paddle?” insinuated that I hadn’t been under for more than five seconds.

There are some striking similarities between my pool experience and my faith experience. For me, trusting God can be like that first roll. I’m sure it couldn’t possibly end well. But I do it. I take the plunge. And when things workout I come back to God, who stands there like Charlie, encouraging me to try something even harder.

Pictures of life: Mine, your's, and maybe a critter's or two

A grave yard where Sarah and I started dating.

Cute, but it's what's for dinner

It's a poodle pup

This is a walk and wall combo I built this fall.

My mom loves Christmas gifts

Your very own: Kevin

Where I come from the women (in this case Anita) carry guns

He doesn't bite, I promise.

Boni-our very own american gothic

Samuel

People say that Joella is more like me than any of my siblings. I don't deny it.

My dad and a goat

Smackdown! and Platonism

I’ve joined the club. The HWF. W stands for wrestling, F stands for federation, and you can guess what the H stands for. I make my amateur Pro Wrestling debut this Thursday night pending my ability to get an outfit. I go by “Category 5” and will be joining the guys in our mattress arena on 2^nd East. Last week we had a smashing performance in which the Natural Hazard was “knocked out” by the new guy Too Cool A.J. Hawk. It was a real shame. I was rooting for the Natural Hazard. And after his jump off of the lounge table onto Shadow Dragon I thought he was untouchable. But a whack with the wet floor sign changed all that.

On the other end of my life, I’m trying to prepare for a test. I hate essay tests. The teachers always give you a bunch of questions and you have to prepare for them all. I wish they could do it orally; I’d do so much better. So now I’m trying to relate platonic thought to themes from Lewis’s book. It’s not such a bad thing, except that it is 70 degrees out and I’m dying to get out.

Dieing: families at a time.

Right now there are 3.5 million people in Kenya whose food supply is about to expire. The reason? Drought. That number grows to 11 million when you add Ethiopia, Somalia, Uganda, and some from Tanzania. What did they ever do to deserve it? But the numbers don’t have faces; they just have a string of zeros on the end and some relating facts: they are easy to forget. Its Africa after all, they die over there all the time. The news story will end and our life will move past it.

But will their life move past this drought? Will they expire with their food supply? Why would God let this happen? I don’t know. I’ve been studying the suffering in the book of Job and finding it to be an amazing time.

The theology of Job’s comforters was as follows: God rewards righteousness and punishes sin. Job is being punished, therefore he must have sinned. In studying the book of Job we see that Job did not sin, and thus the theology of the comforters is wrong. A theology truly reflective of the book of Job could go like this: “God punishes and rewards as he pleases, he is God. It stinks to be Job.” There are factors and events which we cannot see, but which affect us. For Job is was a wager by God on how loyal Job really was. We must simply accept what seems like injustice, and cry out to God for mercy in hope that he will change the things that only he can see.

This starvation is one of those events in which some supernatural arrangement is being played out on dusty plains. Have these 11 million committed some group sin worthy of punishment? I hardly think that the child in the picture deserves anything but the food he begs for. But we should become beggars on his behalf, begging God to send relief. Jesus came to proclaim freedom for the captives not just in a spiritual way but also in a physical way. Christ was an extension of God’s character. God can bring rain, hope, and a future to east Africa. And if we care at all, we will ask Him on their behalf.

Weddings and walking

So much has happened and I’ve written so little.

The wedding went well: The couple got married, the food didn’t run out, and I took lots of pictures. Then I loaded my car and pointed it south for a backpacking trip. Winter/spring backpacking is almost a different sport than summer backpacking. The forecasted 58 temps turned out to be 38. What was a 30% chance of rain became 100% chance of rain and ice. Fortunately the rain came at night, and the ice wasn’t thick. All of this suffering makes summer seem like a good idea.

Have skills, but none that pay.

It's almost break, I'm one 50min class away from feb. break. But what a break it will be. I've just landed a job taking pictures for a freind of a freind's wedding. Except they got me because pro's over charge, and I don't (charge). It should be cool. I only have to learn a Digital Rebel in 24hrs, shoot a wedding, and help them print online. What could possibly go wrong? I'll chill at the Mast's for a night or two and then go home. Adventuer 29537 and I are going to get together an plan a secret operation which I can't expound on here.

So after I've helped the folks remeber their wedding, and planned my thingy, I'm off for the AT with another YES group (www.needssalt.org). I need to plan a route and some trail side programing in one and a half days. And then, Bam! I'm back in the H-hood expanding my mind. But right now I'm wondering: "when will I see my family?"

I've also started signing my name with an exclamation mark. It's more exciting that way.

-Kevin!

Downloading my life onto an iPod.

There seems to be extreems on campus. Hot and cold. It seems to never stop snowing. The snowplows must wear down the sidewalks eventually. Thats the cold. In the pool it is rather warm. I spent almost three hours in there today. All my classes got cancled for friday so I'm just shootin the breeze. Maybe I'll work ahead for next week.

For those of you deeply engrossed in the life of Sir Heater, he has had some trouble. For almost a week he was silent, and we feared the worst. But today he returned, his joyful self, hot tempered as can be.

I watched the movie "southbounder" today. It's a movie about the AT. They did a great job making the AT come alive. Hippy hikers, pot smokeing, rainy days, and ben style hiking. But they missed the whole point of why the trail is great. You will have to watch it to find out what they focused on.

Time

Photo: Pocket watch of an Ozark greenhouse owner

Nature’s way of measuring the passage of existence is cycles. Everything has a cycle. There is the cycle of seasons with their indistinct starting and ending points. There is the cycle of a day which is a bit more defined. In a more abstract way the cycle of life is always continuing. Animals reproduce and die in a cycle that continues until interrupted by humans.

So what is time? Long before Copernicus the human mind had taken the earth’s cycles and divided them into segments that the present would march through; thus the creation of time. So now our centuries are broken into decades. Our decades are broken into years, which are broken into months, weeks, days, hours, and minuets. As if that isn’t enough we slice our minuets even thinner into seconds, and beyond. This is all fine and grand for the synchronization of society, but what about understanding eternity? Before time was created, existence happened in the midst of eternity. It still does, we just don’t see it that way. We come to passages about God’s eternal existence as the uncreated creator, or the infiniteness of our presence in Heaven and it blows our mind. What if time had never been created? What if time had been invented from a different planet? Our year might be a different length! But ultimately, none of this really matters. Cycles or days, it goes by the same.