Tuesday, November 30, 2004

I was expecting to observe other teachers this week to get an idea about teaching stategies and games I might not know, but due to the absence of one of my fellow field instructors I'm teaching instead, which is fine by me because it pays more and we need the money. As an added bonus, the kids this week already seem to know everything, so they're very easy to teach. On the first day, as I stopped to talk about a Douglas Fir tree, I noticed a large salamander wedged under an exposed root. When I dug it out I discovered that it was that holy grail of local salamanders - an adult Pacific Giant Salamander. This is the first adult I've seen - it was a beautiful reddish color mottled with black. An impressive find, but unfortunately I didn't have my camera.

That evening, M. and I went up to 21 Grand in Oakland to hang some art for a show that opens next weekend.




Around midnight, while driving home after dropping M. off, I collided with a deer. The poor thing didn't have a chance. It was standing between lanes in the freeway around a blind curve. I had time to slam on the brakes and start to swerve, with tire smoke filling the air behind me. It had time to turn around to meet the front left side of my car. The impact tossed it into the air and shattered the plastic and glass housing for my left turn signal. Nothing I could do. I try not to think about it too much.

Today I remembered to bring my camera to work. The ground was covered with frost, so the scorpion I found was pretty cold, huddled under a log and barely moving. It warmed up and walked around after being held for a bit.




I've also been becoming more interested in fungi. I'm still not too good about identifying specific types, but being out in the woods during the rainy season is a real eye opener for me. There are interesting mushrooms everywhere. Here's a photo. More to follow, I'm sure.



Saturday, November 27, 2004

I've worked at the museum for the past couple of mornings, just for old times sake, oh... and for the money. This morning, a woman asked me if I was the guy who sometimes brought bugs and reptiles to the museum. I replied that I was, and she told me that her son has a picture of me with a tarantula, taken a couple of years ago, on his wall. She went on to say that ever since that particular visit he's been collecting "weird things." She wasn't sure whether to thank me for this or not.

Ha. My plan is working!

Speaking of weird things, I think I've finally interpreted a recurring dream I used to have as a child. The dream went something like this: It always started with a feeling of absolute serenity, illustrated for my oneiric eyes by a slate of uniform, foggy grayness.
This didn't last though. At some point there was an enormous gasp, like a sharp, collective intake of breath. As this was happening, the serene gray fractured and became a writhing, convoluted tangle of edges and lines. It was like the worst thing in the world had happened.
I've talked to other people who have had similar dreams. At first I was thinking about how it's a great metaphor for how needlessly complex our society has become - a society where time-saving devices ensure that we have time to do all sorts of stuff that really doesn't need doing, and where we depend on things that we don't understand - but after more thought it seems to me that it's probably a memory of being born. The transition from the peacefulness of the womb to the sudden assault on our senses is supposed to be the most difficult thing that ever happens to a person. That means, like other bad things that happen, it will leave a lasting impression on the memory, even if it is only on a subconscious level. When we're born, the clean slates of our minds don't have the wealth of symbols that we rely on later in life to help us put things in order. When we're born, we are inundated with raw, alien data. It must be absolutely overwhelming. So overwhelming, in fact, that we can only remember it in dreams.

Something to think about, anyway. Anybody else out there have dreams like that?







Etch-a-Sketch artwork by Lexy.

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

Since this week camp ends on Wednesday, today was our last full day with this batch of kids. I hiked my group up creeks and down trails and up trails and down trails again for nearly six hours. They held up pretty well. We had to keep moving because it was pretty cold in the shade. It was even colder later on when we went on the night hike. The moon was up, so it was relatively easy to see (except for one of the cabin leaders assigned to my group, who had no night vision at all). Afterwards, we all looked at the moon through a telescope, which is pretty cool because the craters and various other pockmarks stand out very clearly. Too bad none of the planets were visible. We then ended the evening by putting on a dance for the kids. Tomorrow they all have to leave, which is a shame because they are really getting a lot out of this experience and they're all really good kids. Perhaps some of the seeds we've planted this week will take root.

Here's some photos from today.




The afternoon session of the aphid eaters anonymous meeting. Todays speaker dealt with the issue of insect gender confusion.




Ensatinas like having their pictures taken. California Newts apparently don't.



Monday, November 22, 2004

The kids we're teaching this week only get to stay at the site for two nights and are leaving on Wednesday. They're from a school in a low income part of town, so for the most part being to go to science camp in the hills is a really big deal for them. They're all really excited and appreciative. I took my group exploring, with less than the usual amount of games. We all felt that it would be best just to get them out in the woods for some real hands-on investigation of the local natural communities.
These are the types of kids that make this job so appealing. This is a great chance for them to see beyond their own neighborhoods and glimpse the natural wonders that surround us. I wish everybody everywhere could get a chance to do this kind of thing.

It's cold tonight, with the moon shining bright.

Sunday, November 21, 2004

This weekend brought us crystal blue skies filled with leaves flipping down from the trees and skittering across the ground. It's been pretty cool in the evenings, which is just the way I like it. The cold that we had during the week left the door open on its way out, and another cold pushed its way in before we could close it. Round two is much like round one. More snot. More headaches.

Speaking of snot and headaches, I don't like the fact that the U.S. government is making rumbling noises about "Weapons of Mass Destruction" in Iran. This, of course, will be the next target if the ever manage to "secure" Iraq. It's pretty transparent really. Take over Iraq, and then use it as a base from which to strike out at everybody else in the region. It's going to be a long four years, and I'm sure the mess will haunt us for the forseeable future.

Meanwhile, glaciers all over the world are starting to melt. Welcome to the 21st century. Now go home.

What's a person to do? I went and sold some books to get money to buy gifts for the holidays. Actually, I traded books for store merchandise because they only pay cash for hot ticket items ("Da Vinci Code," the lady told me). I also went and played scientist at a birthday party. The birthday boy, who was only nine, recited the whole periodic table for me. I can't even do that. And finally, G. and M. and I got together to rehearse for the irr.app.(ext.) shows now looming on the horizon. I even bought a couple of new nose flutes to replace the dozen or so I've lost, given away, or inadvertently destroyed.

Meanwhile, Jen made lots more stuff for the craft faire, Willow said more new words and ate some paint, The Dickens pooped in her pants and called people names, and the boys made messes and revised their dietary requirements for the umpteenth time. Chaos reigns. Poverty threatens. Christmas displays mysteriously appear, beckoning to the unwary. Most of the time we're too busy to notice.

Thursday, November 18, 2004

Thursday is always long hike day. It also always seems to be the day where unexpected things happen, like the wasp attack of several weeks ago, or a kid having to go home in the middle of the hike because grandma had taken a turn for the worse. Today somebody managed to soil himself during the solo hike. Another kid managed to soil his shoes and the little shovel we use for digging latrines. Another field group experienced similar problems.

Shitty day, I guess. Actually, it reminds me of a story I once read. Our local trolley system is referred to as the Light Rail, but during the planning stages one of the names being considered was Santa Clara Area Transit. SCAT for short. Some of you may see the problem with this... Scat, as any science camper knows, is another word for, well, shit. "Hey mom! Let's go ride the poop train!" Eventually, somebody pointed this out, so now it is blandly known as the Light Rail. Of course I always tell this story to my students, who delight in spotting "Santa Clara Area Transit" on the trail.

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

I let the Rattlesnake go today. I took some photos first though.







I wasn't able to find that immense Pacific Giant Salamander again, so I had to settle for an Ensatina instead. They're pretty cool too, of course.





Tuesday, November 16, 2004

I'm still feeling a bit under the weather, but less so than the guy I'm subbing for this week. The latest word is that he's not going to be in at all for the remainder of the week, which I guess is just as well because: (a) I need the money, and (b) I left a small Rattlesnake on his desk. It wouldn't do for him to get to work before me and reach into the wrong bag. Actually, it's in a cage, so in reality he probably wouldn't have any trouble. This all came about because the snake had been spotted by some kids outside one of the cabins, and I was the only person in the immediate vicinity who was willing to move it. I decided to hang on to it for a day or so in order to show more kids. Tomorrow I'm letting it go.

I also saw the biggest Pacific Giant Salamander that I've ever seen. It still had gills, so it wasn't even an adult yet, but it must have been nearly a foot long. I'd like to try to get a picture of it if it's still lurking around in the creek tomorrow.

Later, before the night hike, a bunch of us went down to an Ethiopian restaurant that I hadn't been to before. Very nice. I love Ethiopian food.

The night hike itself went okay, but most of the kids were too scared to hike far. Timid bunch. Oh well.

Monday, November 15, 2004

I was going to spend the week observing the other instructors at work because I didn't get a lot of time to do that back before I started, but due to another instructor being ill, they needed me to teach instead, which is just fine because I get paid more that way. I'll have to observe when he's feeling better.

Willow has an ear infection, we think. Jen took her to have it looked at. Poor girl. She's been cranky and fussy today. I've got a bit of a cold myself, complete with runny nose and general achiness. These things are always worst in the evenings and early morning. During the day the symptoms recede. I did start to lose my voice after a couple hours of teaching this afternoon though.

M. and I had our first rehearsal in preparation for a couple of shows slated for next month. More to follow.

And finally, R.I.P. Jhonn Balance (1962-2004). I've pulled out some of my Coil cds and I'm again struck by how moribund most of their music is. Prescient maybe. His creative input into my life and the lives of many others will be missed. He did indeed leave his mark on the world before moving on, which is more than many people do. Very unfortunate.

Friday, November 12, 2004

Thursday, November 11, 2004

I forgot to mention yesterday that the electrician came and fixed lots of lights, including some that haven't worked since before we moved in here. It's strange to see them working. The one over the mailbox mysteriously comes on all by itself at night so people can see the large, paintless rust patches on it. Time to paint the mailbox I guess. Or maybe we should just take it down. It's always full of catalogs and bills.

I worked at the museum today, forgetting that Veteran's Day is always horrendously busy. I'm going to work a few more shifts over the next month and a half and then quit, since I'm hardly ever there anyway. It's good to have it at the moment though, since we're still playing catch-up with bills and whatnot. The paychecks from the new job have an annoying habit of arriving on the tenth of the month, after all of the bills are long past due. Still much better than not having one at all. I shudder to think what would have happened if I hadn't gotten the job.

I'm not working anywhere tomorrow, but I'm poking my head in at both of the part time ones to sign up for a double time shift at one and return supplies and fix a possible paycheck snafu at the other. Life is busy. Not enough time lately to engage myself in creative endeavors.

Wednesday, November 10, 2004

I went hiking in the rain for a couple of hours today...




Sometimes it seemed as if I was in the clouds.




Here's the farthest point that we ever take groups of science campers to.




In dark corners, slugs lurked.




And in the misty light of day, there were stranger creatures still.

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

We finished up day two of the ropes course without any rain falling on us. There were a good number of yellow Maple leaves drifting down from above, painting the ground with random patterns. It's supposed to rain tonight and tomorrow.

While marching around near the ropes course, I gathered some Madrone bark and a little bit of Yerba Buena to make tea with. At home, I stuck it all in a tea ball and inundated it with hot water. It tasted more like bark than Yerba Buena, due no doubt to the disproportionate amounts of my ingredients. Jen said it tasted like the woods smell. That's a good description - very "woody" in flavor. Very good, in an odd sort of way. Next time I'm going to add Douglas Fir needles and Bay Laurel leaves to round out the flavor. I kind of like the idea of gathering things from the woods and using them. I'm staying away from mushrooms for the time being though.

The landlord came by today and witnessed for himself that six of our lights don't work. A visit from an electrician has been promised. Lights at the end of the tunnel!

Monday, November 08, 2004

I'm not teaching science camp this week, unless one of the salaried teachers gets jury duty. Won't know for sure until the last minute. In the meantime, I'm keeping busy by helping out on the ropes course for a couple of days. Same pay. This time it's fifth graders. Pretty agile ones at that. Some of them could climb like spiders. We got half the class today, with the remainder coming tomorrow.

It's strange being up there at the school and not teaching the science campers. I'll be back doing it next week though.

At home, the cheap portable cd player in our room is on its way out. It usually takes many tries to get it to play a cd. Tonight I gave up and am actually playing a cd on the computer. I'm being dragged inexorably into the 21st century here. Next thing I know I'll be listening exclusively to Em Pee Threes or something. At least I still have a linen closet full of vinyl to save me from the soul sucking emptiness of the computer age. In the meantime I'm enjoying a cdr of the Ex-Girl show in San Francisco last May. Three loud Japanese women with an unusual fondness for frogs. Thanks to M., as usual, for recording it and making copies.

The electrical system in our home is getting quirkier. The landlord is coming to see for himself tomorrow, so we've been doing some cleaning so it doesn't look like four messy kids live here. Jen's been at it most of the day, and I've been at it most of the time since I came home. I'm playing hooky right now.

Okay, that's it for now. Willow just wandered in.

Friday, November 05, 2004

My work schedule for the rest of the year is quickly filling up. People in this profession seem to be somewhat nomadic, so that means plenty of extra work opportunities to those of us who lead more sedentary existences. We've still got a long way to go before our finances look good, but I'm grateful to have the opportunity to do something about it.

It's hard to believe that it's already November. It's only been four months since I stopped delivering newspapers, but it seems like much longer. I think I'll quit the museum too. I'm hardly ever there, and I keep getting extra work at my new job, not to mention my other part time job. Not much time left over for the museum. Not much time for reading, watching movies, or listening to music either. I do miss that. As fun as my new job is, I'm looking forward to the holidays.

At least Jen and I get time to ourselves after the kids are in bed, but often one or the other of us is so tired that all we do is fall asleep. Tonight, the girls are asleep, but the boys are out with Granny seeing a stage version of Peter Pan. They'll probably go to sleep pretty quickly when they return though.

One of Willow's more recent words is "cheese." She definitely has her priorities straight.

Thursday, November 04, 2004

Sleepytime Gorilla Museum played the final show of their tour up in San Francisco last night. M. and I went up to see it, and what a show it was! Shinichi and a small horde of Butoh dancers from Inkboat shared the stage with them. There were audience sing-a-long bits. There was some Moe!, even though he is no longer an official member of the band. There was a lot of very cool anti-Bush sentiment bubbling through the band and crowd as well. This made it even more of a cathartic experience than usual.

I have this thought that the east and west coasts should secede, and that we should gather together the far-flung remnants of the Berlin Wall and rebuild it around Washington DC, so nobody could leave. It would be sort of like sandbagging along the banks of a swollen river, except in this case the flood we'd be preparing for would be a flood of idiocy.

But enough of this talk about the small minded little cretins who continue to run this country. It's depressing. I spent another day outside, with a line of children trailing behind me. It was misty and cold, with the rain setting in towards the end of the hike. One kid had to leave halfway through (a classroom teacher and his mom came up to get him) because his grandma was dying. Maybe there's a thursday curse in effect. This is the second thursday where something unexpected happened. At least the one Yellowjacket nest we passed didn't trouble us. This week the Yellowjackets were all off stinging one of the other field groups - the one led by the other new guy. His experience wasn't quite as all-encompassing as mine was. Only two people got stung - the field leader himself (on the neck) and the kid who'd stepped on the nest (six times on the knee). Later, I told him that it must be some sort of secret initiation for new instructors.




This is a California Newt. We found yet another mutant one today, with an extra toe on its left front foot. The one pictured above had the correct number of digits. So far I've found three mutants, all with toe deformities.




This is what I call a good work environment. The camera ran out of memory at this point, so I wasn't able to photograph the strangely twisted, mist enshrouded Madrone trees further up the hill. Maybe next time.

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

I'll refrain from commenting on the election until all is certain. It looks like things are going to go badly though, and that's a great understatement.

As we hiked through the almost complete darkness under the Redwoods tonight, I often found myself feeling for the trail with my feet. I could see the black on black shapes of trees looming ahead and on all sides, and used them as markers. Then, in the middle of the trail, like a beacon, there appeared a small point of luminescence. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a small grub of some sort, like a mealworm, but glowing with a greenish blue light. I walked back along the line of nervous fifth graders and showed it to them. We all agreed that it was a pretty cool thing to find in the middle of the trail in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night.

Later, after the moon had finally risen and I was at home, I looked it up on the internet and discovered that our find was a Glow Worm. It's not really a worm, of course. It's the larva of some sort of fly.

Now we just have to worry about who or what will be this country's beacon in the dark.

Monday, November 01, 2004

We're all just sick with anxiety about the elections tomorrow. Will that beetle-browed, knuckle dragging simple minded pile of day old donkey dung win? We definitely hope not. Voters, use your brains, not whatever else it is that you have been using. This is serious business here.

At work this morning, a coworker found a Black Widow on her desk. Possibly Iktomi the trickster god. I carried her around in my little bug house for awhile and showed her to the kids. Then I let her go along the San Andreas fault.

Using Bela Tarr's "Werckmeister Harmonies" as inspiration, I had the kids perform a solar system dance. I was the sun, and the kids were all planets and moons. The planets revolved around me, and the moons revolved around the planets. At the end of it all, the solar system was in chaos. Neptune was closer to the sun than Jupiter. Mars and Earth shared an orbit. Only Pluto and the planetoid Sedna kept their distance.

I used this result as an example of what happens when a system breaks down, then went on to talk about the ecosystem.