...and part of a morning

A project that I thought wasn't a big deal turned into a 10 page paper. I can't believe I did it in one night (and part of a morning). I hate procrastination.

We walk around in the woods and pick flowers

So now I'm at College. That statement contains a great deal that cries out "write about me". The chorus of little voices is made up of unique faces, each face with a personality, and a story.

Sarah is in the chorus. In half a week she decided to enroll as a student. Half a week would be considered "impulsive" by most Mast standards, but I don't mind. It's nice to have her around. It's also very weird. On the 17^th of this month we will have been dating 21 months. Nowhere in those months could you have found us in the same state for more than two weeks, so it's taken some adjustment to understand how to live separate yet intersecting lives.

Queena is in the chorus. She shares a room, and a reasonable amount of time with Sarah. There aren't really words to describe her actions on campus other than that they are very much what you would expect when you leave an engaged Queena at a Christian Liberal arts College.

Mr. RA is in the chorus. He does what a good RA should do: He facilitates a Christian academic living environment. He tries to be a role model for the guys on his floor while planning spiritual and social activities. It takes a lot of time, but he likes it. Right now he is working on a canoe trip with his sister floor.

Then there are classes. They can sing loudly. I have a wide variety of Rec. classes with one Bio. For Biology we identify things, and learn about identifying things. Several hours a week we walk around in the woods and pick flowers trying to identify them. It's cool. But not as cool as trail development. Because in TD we build things in the woods (what could be more fun?). I didn't realize that the concepts behind trails were so complex. It's a four credit class, and that means almost six hrs a week of independent lab work (designing, mapping, and building). I get to use my GPS a lot for that one.

So that's my life in a nutshell. I'm going to try to write more regularly now that my life has recovered from a month of transition. A month ago I was leaving landscaping. Feel free to leave questions as comments.

1962

If you look closely in life, one can find the oddest things. And graveyards are no exception. Look closely at the pictures of this gravestone (front and back). Isn't it odd? You can't see it well, but the front has two doves holding a banner which reads "1962"-the kind that usually indicates marriage. I'm so confused by it.

Sarah and I often visit graveyards. Our first walk as a couple was to a graveyard, and we have been paying our respects ever since. Some people think it is a kind of morbid obsession, and it's ok for them to think that. If they view graveyards as a field of rotting flesh, then maybe it is best for them to avoid it. But we view cemeteries as well manicured parks filled with uniquely personalized historical markers. Spend a half of an hour walking the rows of stones and your life seems to shrink in importance. We are a moment and in 200 hundred years all that will be left is a broken stone that someone mows around, and hope that we have passed on to others. As I look at the stones I always wish I knew the stories of the people who lie below: the tragic deaths, the two wives, or that bronze military plaque. So many stories lie buried and silenced.

A Good girl became a Charles

Life changes in an instant. When the weather stops being humid, I go back to Houghton, and Sarah comes home all at the same time, it feels like I’ve completely switched cultures.

There are several bloggable events that have happened since I last wrote. A Good girl became a Charles and Asher and I did the parking. We thought that since it was cooler we would direct in style. Just about every seat at Bosslers was filled for the ceremony, but we found a way to have extra parking.

On Friday I collected Sarah while I waited in a gas line (that’s a romantic meeting spot). Together we put several hundred miles on my car proving that it is a fine machine. I was very pleased with it’s first test. It got 38-40 mpg w/ the AC on and several hundred pounds of luggage while driving the mountains of MD. Somehow life seems to never slow down when she is around. We partied at her family reunion with the very in love Queena and Ethan. Some were sure that we got lost. But I will say it again: “we did not get lost!” Sarah is amazing with a map, but only when I am driving.

And time rolls on….

I'm not actually Kevin Yoder

So if you came here looking for someone besides Kevin Yoder, you found him, he is just using a different name to hide his identity.

More dumpster diving success last night. Two unassembled china cabinets climbed out of the bin and into my little Saturn. One was damaged and one was missing some pieces. We combined them to make a good piece and set both for sale along the road. When I got home this evening both cabinets were gone and I had more money for the “date fund”. I wanted to post a picture of them, but they sold too fast.

I'm sitting on a mini-fridge

So I got a car. It could be best described as “a grandpa car”. Gold isn’t exactly the hottest color on the market and 1995 was a while ago. But 43K isn’t much, and a standard transmission will be nice. The dent resistant sides will soon undergo late night testing in a walmart parking lot. Plastic seems to be the key in making this little guy light and efficient. I wonder if he is made out of recycled milk jugs?

I preached this Sunday. It was rough; I lost my train of thought a lot. But it was well received. I’m glad that it’s over; the preparation seemed to take a lot of time and stress. This week is the softball playoffs. We have a good shot at winning, but nothing is sure, we have a history of loosing games we shouldn’t have.

I would say more, but I’m sitting on a mini-fridge instead of my chair (sent it to NY). And there is a geo-cache waiting to be found.

They diagnosed my little guy

Mr. MazdaI spent all day at the beach: 15 min. wading, the rest in the sand.

Sarah and I talked a few weeks ago. She wanted me to come out and pick her up, which made me wonder: “how far can my car go?” To be safe I took it to a transmission shop. They diagnosed my little guy with a failing transmission, and I estimated he had 2-4 months to live. Treatment is expensive so I decided to let him go. I met a guy who said that he can give him a good home. And so Mr. Mazda is moving on.

So now I’m shopping and hope to close a deal on a new ride. The downside is that work has been really slow. Did you see the sand castle? I actually took a day off, went to the beach, and shoveled for hours just for fun. Any landscaper who does that must not be doing much at work. But hey, it is not so bad. I have less than a month before I get to collect Sarah. I don’t think I ever looked forward to driving down the turnpike so much!

It takes ten hits to get a dot that big

Do you ever feel like you are being watched? I do, especially when I’m trying not to be seen: like when I’m dumpster diving or peeing behind a bush at work. The truth is everything we do is monitored. Between your cell phone, cameras at intersections, and monitored emails the government knows exactly where you are. (Actually I have no idea if they know where you are, it just made a good intro)

If you noticed there is a little map on the side bar of my blog. When you look at my blog a program records the general location of where your request came from. A good look at the map and you know where my loved ones live. The bigger the dot, the more hits from that area. The splattering of small dots are either people who stumbled across my blog once or who have looked at it less than ten times since June 12^th (the day the program started monitoring).

The dot with the green arrow confuses me. It takes ten hits to get a dot that big. I don’t remember having any friends in south western Canada. Ten hits in a month is a lot: more than I get from India. So I am interested to know the names behind the dots. So if you read my blog, leave a comment with your name and the city you view from. (Especially my Canadian friend).

The Annual wild goat round up

Life on a ranch in always exciting. Ok, so I don't live on a ranch, but it is exciting. Last night we had the annual wild goat round up. Dewormer was on the menu for the whole herd. Here are some pictures.
I had the worst time catching this one. I tried the neck tackle a few times but eventually got her when she slipped in some manure.

If you have an upset stomach what do you take? The same works on goats, though they don't drink it down like you did when you where young.
Geocaching can get a little weird at times. I could have sworn the cache was hidden there, but it wasn't.

We found a pool like this one when we were dumpster diving. It was brand new so decided to sell it along the road. Split $60 two ways and I still have a nice wad to add to the "date fund".

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.