25 Random Things (and one random picture)

A good writing exercise... and a challenge to even come up with 25 honest and interesting things about myself. I always feel pressure with this stuff- so we'll see how I do. ;)

(Rules: Once you have been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. Also, tag the person who sent it to you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you or you wrote 25 things about you already. If I didn't tag you, write anyway!!)

1) The house I grew up in was built in the 1800's, and we still use the original key to get in the front door. It's longer than my index finger, and I used to live in fear that I would lose it- there was no copy.

2) I used to wish on stars at night for a baby sister. I hated being an only child, and for this reason, I want to have another kid.

3) I also used to wish for a best friend. This wish came true in first grade: A girl with the same name and the same lunch box showed up to my classroom in the middle of the school year. (Made me a believer in a higher power for quite some time.) We were absolutely inseparable -even our cabbage patches were best friends- until she moved away at the end of the summer just before 4th grade. The day she came to say good bye before riding off in that minivan still ranks up there as one of the worst days of my life.

4) (Since I'm stuck on the topic of childhood...) As an only child I was forced into fostering my creative imagination. I discovered a giant boulder in the woods that looked like it was smiling. I named the rock "Hibble," and deemed her grandmother of the rock planet. I developed a rock language (a character map and the pronunciation) and wrote secret messages to Hibble in a locked spiral bound notebook while sitting atop her "head." Odd kid, I know! To this day, I love the personification of inanimate objects... in a less serious way, of course.

5) If you know me well, you know that I wrote my 7th grade research paper on the life of Neil Diamond. I didn't get to see him live until this past summer... and it was worth the 17 year wait.

6) I can remember some of the dreams I had when I was 3 years old.

7) I am great with names, but can't recognize faces to save my life, unless someone's appearance is exactly the same as it was the last time I saw them. I often think a stranger is someone I know, or fail to recognize someone I should know, even if they start talking to me.

8) I honestly think I have a disorder when it comes to my sense of direction. I am fine with north and south, OR east and west, but I can't use them in conjunction. I memorize my routes based on visual landmarks, and am too stubborn to depend on a GPS.

9) I did love living in Boulder, CO, because the mountains always let me know exactly where I was. I had no problem navigating the Rockies region. Yet I do look at that move as one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made. I went out there to fill a promise to someone else, but I didn't listen to myself. I learned a lot from my time there, and it lead me to where I am now... but overall, what a stupid move.

10) I probably don't give things enough of a chance, but still I've never regretted a snap decision when my gut was polled. My gut is surefire. It's the decisions that I hem and haw over that get me into trouble.

11) I wish I'd gone to college for something other than art.

12) I have an extremely high tolerance for pain. I didn't cry when I broke my wrist or during natural childbirth... and I'd be really proud of that, but I think it's simply an inherent trait. My 'rents are rugged.

13) Even though I'm super healthy most of the time when it comes to food choices, a trip to the beach is not complete without a bag of nacho cheese doritos and a few captain 'n' cokes with lime. Something about laying lazily in the sand makes me want junk food.

14) Pre-Patrick, I have about ten journals that I've filled. Post-Patrick, I have about ten that I've started and dropped. My single self was the best muse I ever had, which is funny considering that my single self was constantly seeking a muse.

15) I miss the satisfaction of being pursued by the opposite sex. I've been "taken" for 9 years, and often wonder how my 20's would have played out had I been available a while longer. I wouldn't want things to have turned out any differently... I just wonder what "differently" would have been.

16) I'm not very organized but because I desperately want to be, I'm very anal about my house, my car, my desk at work... clutter is very hard for me to cope with... especially if it's someone else's, because then there's nothing I can do about it.

17) Unloading a full dishwasher (when I know where everything goes) puts me in a meditative state.

18) I usually evaluate the ratio of exclamation points to periods when I write an email. I use exclamations too frequently, so I have to limit myself. Since my emails are also often sarcastic, the infamous sideways smiley also must be kept in check. There's almost always at least one, but there shouldn't be more than two, tops.

19) My dad and I had 2 horses in my mid-teens. As much as I love the thrill of fast trail rides and the awe of big animals, I've never felt like a real "horse person."

20) I'm incredibly social, but only when provoked. Yet, Patrick constantly provokes, and is responsible for 80% of the plans we make.

21) A good cup of coffee and good company is my idea of a perfect afternoon. Patrick and I have judged every town line we've ever crossed by whether or not it has a good coffee shop.

22) If we hadn't conceived a child by 2009, we were going to vacation in Italy. Zinnia was created last March, and thus we happily settled for Maine.

23) They say that thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail with a significant other is worth 25 years of marriage, and by my experience, I completely agree.

24) The day I actually got married I was only nervous about one thing. The weather. My dream wedding consisted of very little criteria, but the sun was a major expectation of mine. It showed up about 10 minutes into the ceremony, and I still remember how perfect that warm glow made me feel.

25) Whether it be in 5 years or 25 years, I am confident that we will one day move back to Vermont.

Endeavors on the table.

I'm settling into my routine with Baby Zin. She's still fickle, as a newborn should be, but the one-on-one time is really helping me to "read" her. Her favorite thing to do is fall asleep on my shoulder, face down... so I'm pretty much limited to sitting on the couch, or the rocker, or engaging in one handed activities if I want to stand. I don't like to sit still, so this is hard! Thank god we got this laptop. At first, I wasn't sure how important it was to be mobile with the computer- now I can see it's the best decision we could have made!

Surfing Facebook and checking my email got really old after a few days of being home-bound with the little spud. So... I decided to play around with an idea I've had for quite some time. See, my friend is getting married, and being maid-of-honor (refuse to call myself a matron!) gives me the opportunity to help with some of the plans. This may be considered a burden to some, but I LOVE planning, or at least I love the crafty elements that go along with a wedding. Both the brainstorming and execution phases; I love it. So much so, that I actually (almost) applied to be a bridal consultant back when I was searching for a new job. Then, I came to the conclusion that unless I could choose who I was going to consult, I would likely strangle myself with a garter belt. Brides can be evil- especially to people like bridal consultants, who are prime candidates for punching bags should something, anything go sour in their eyes. Anyhow...

I found myself overly enthusiastic about helping my friend make her invitations. She already had a plan and a design, so like a good girl I didn't "take over." Anyone who has been a bride is aware that everyone else's opinions are a threat to her own personal vision. (And, okay, yeah, I still made some suggestions... but nothing that altered the aesthetics of the thing). Instead, I went to the craft store, grabbed some paper, and played around with my own independent project. Then, I did a little research online (a.k.a. I scoured the internet) for what other people were offering in the way of handmade invitations, mainly to see if what I created could be lucrative in any way. The answer? I think I can find a way to make it worth my while, feed the little creative beast in me, and if nothing else, nurture a new hobby.

I've decided to keep it simple and stick with one design that can be executed in endless color combinations of solid paper with a patterned accent, or two solids. I'd like to do a "test run" to see how long it takes to make 50+ sets (invite and response card), and to see if my cost estimates are accurate. I need a chance to meet any potential kinks that I haven't anticipated, and to see if I can manage it with a baby in the mix. In exchange for the experience, the rights to creative license, and perhaps a testimonial, I'd give my guinea pig the full set of invitations at materials cost only- a great deal for someone who's looking to cut costs, but doesn't have any interest in the DIY approach. I would certainly cater to the couple's desired color scheme, and would welcome a basic wording structure, if they wanted to provide one.

So, if you know me, and you know someone who might be interested in such a trade-off, please connect us! I'm excited to get started and see where, if anywhere, it takes me. The event doesn't have to be a wedding per se, but it should be something involved enough to require at least 50 (give or take) invites, and it should merit response mailers. (I'm going to want to see the shape they're in when received back.)

Time for my 6 week postpartum check up. Funny that once the baby's out of ya, they don't need to see you for 6 whole weeks. If something was to go wrong between delivery and recovery, wouldn't I be about dead by now?

Hope

I'd hoped, and continue to hope. And I'm pretty confident, too. :)

Inaugural address.

Resurrection of... whatever this was.

I'm back - I think. That crazy little person to the left is the product of Operation Make-a-baby, thus I've been MIA in the blog world for quite some time. Any extra moments I could spend at the computer (over the course of my pregnancy) were devoted to an insufferable need to "research" what I was in for, a.k.a, what could I do ahead of time to make parenting easier. It was all about what was in my belly, not what was in my head.

Now that she, Zinnia Jane, as arrived, I'm ready to reclaim a little of myself. Sounds a bit backwards, as though now is the time to give up a little of myself. But I did that from the moment I knew she was in the womb. Now, as I get to know her, it's like getting to know the new me at the same time. The Mommy Me. I'm okay with the Mommy Me, but I think new moms can easily slip into a weird baby vortex. A vortex that consumes all independent thoughts and interests, leaving behind a shell of the woman she once was, stuffed with baby-focused cream filling.

Of course, how can you not be all but obsessed with living, breathing, mini look-alike that you and your partner made out of love? It's totally amazing, and cool, and indescribable. Still, I want to make a distinct effort not to get lost in the wonder of it all. Mostly because I've witnessed it from an outside perspective, and have always found it kind of annoying. Yet, from this side, a new baby means not much else is ABLE to happen in my life, thus she essentially becomes it.

To counter this, I've begun planning a small business venture. It’s very slow going given the circumstances, but still something other than Zinnia on which to focus some effort. Reading is fun again, and hopefully, writing will be, too. I think writing is that thing I constantly resolve to get back into… so often that I really can stop resolving and just know that it will always be something I pick back up when I can. And despite my aim to have a life outside of the baby, you can be sure she’ll provide me with plenty of material to document- which I WILL document.

Thoughts of morbid, nature.

photo by Kimberley Campbell

While an odd topic, it's an important one. I came across an article in a magazine that's similar to the one below. If ever I make an early exit, I just wanted to put it out there that this is what I'd like....

Preserve Offers Natural Burial Sites

This may not look like a cemetery, but it is for the more than 300 people who have pre-purchased grave sites at Ramsey Creek Preserve, a memorial nature park in Westminster.

Instead of an ornate tombstone, Sam and Eva Pratt have chosen a stately white oak to mark their final resting place. They've opted for patches of wildflowers and ferns to carpet their grave site, instead of neatly manicured turf.

"I do not like the sameness of most modern-day cemeteries with their rows of plastic flowers," Eva Pratt said. "The white oak is a noble tree that denotes and imbues life and withstands the storms and seasons."

The Pratts are two of the more than 300 people who have chosen "natural" burials, pre-purchasing grave sites at a memorial nature park called Ramsey Creek Preserve in Westminster.

"All natural" means the body isn't embalmed and can only be placed in biodegradable containers like a shroud or a cardboard or plain wood casket before it is buried. The eco-friendly cemetery is the first in the U.S. and meshes the need for burial space with land conservation, using the bulk of the money it receives to purchase, restore and maintain nature parks.

Breaking through stereotypes

When the Pratts invited Tommy Campbell, the founder of Ramsey Creek, to speak to one of their local conservation groups, Eva Pratt overheard a woman call the preserve a "place where they just throw you in the ground."

"People are skeptical at first about the respectability of natural burial, but after the services they'll come up and tell me it was beautiful, and this is what they want for themselves now," Campbell said.

"This really isn't a granola-crunching-hippy-dippy-Wiccan-earth-worshiping thing."

Sam and Eva, both 66, are anything but crystal-toting, astrology-subscribing new-agers.

Reserved and eloquent, they are evangelical Christians who believe passionately in land conservation and struggle with what they see as the waste and extravagance associated with modern burials.

"Land is the most wonderful asset we have, and in the 30 years we've lived in Spartanburg, it's become more important to me as I've seen more land degraded and bulldozed," Eva Pratt said. "And the things we took for granted when we were young are disappearing.

"I am happy to have my final spot on earth be a place I know, of preserved beauty, and for my body to become a part of that, undeterred by chemicals and hardware."

Saving both kinds of green

Three years ago, Mary Woodsen, a member of Commemorative Nature Preserves of New York, an organization that advocates memorial nature preserves, calculated the ecological cost of all the "chemicals and hardware" American cemeteries generate annually: 827,060 gallons of embalming fluid, 1,636,000 tons of reinforced concrete, 104,272 tons of steel, 2,700 tons of copper and bronze and 30 million board feet of hardwoods.

Campbell estimated an average funeral costs between $8,000 and $12,000 and industry revenues at $15 billion to $20 billion each year. At $2,000 for a plot, the cost of being buried at Ramsey Creek isn't cheap, but does offer substantial cost-savings over the conventional alternatives.

As a doctor and environmentalist, Campbell said he took a keen look at the funeral industry when his father died prematurely, and he had to make arrangements.

"The funeral director was talking about the vault and he told me 'not only does it have ornate scroll, it was guaranteed to last 100 years and would take 20,000 pounds per square foot,' " Campbell said. "My questions were who is going to dig it up in 100 years to check that, and are we trying to protect the corpse from a direct nuclear strike?"

Campbell was told the measures were to protect the body against nature, an idea he found both ridiculous and wasteful.

"Back in junior high, I had a teacher who said when he died he wanted to be put in a burlap bag and have a tree planted on him," Campbell said. "I thought it was the coolest thing in the world."

Then, in a medical anthropology class during college, he was enthralled when he learned about a tribe in Papua New Guinea that kept their dead in sacred "spirit forests."

"They created little pocket wilderness, and the people protected these forests to honor their dead," Campbell said. "This stuff all kind of simmered in my brain until 1985 when my father died and a light-bulb went off and I realized you didn't have to be a New Guinea person to have a memorial park."

The thought of channeling funds from the lucrative funeral industry directly toward land conservation was a heady thought for the Campbells, but more so was the realization this could be an avenue to get people more deeply connected with nature and the land.

"Whatever kind of spiritual lens you bring to Ramsey Creek Preserve, something happens in a natural setting when you are quiet and surrounded by nature," said Kimberley Campbell, Tommy's wife. "It is a moment of mystery, like a peaceful sunset at a beach."

She said one of their clients, a 76-year-old woman, summarized the appeal of Ramsey Creek with a profound elegance that surprised her.

"We were walking through the woods and she said, 'I have to tell you I have gone to my church for 40 years and love it, and it was built by man to glorify God, but in these woods, this is God, this is His creation and I feel so close to Him and so peaceful.' "

With its bounty of wildflowers, foliage and the gentle gurgling of the creek, Ramsey Creek conjures up none of the traditional imagery associated with cemeteries.

"It's not creepy at all," Tommy Campbell said. "Come here on a spring day where all the leaves are popping and the woods are filled with butterflies and birds, and you'll see it's anything but creepy."

Originally, he thought the idea of a natural setting would appeal mostly to boomers, but Campbell has been surprised by the diversity of the people who have expressed interest in the memorial park.

"Some are attracted to the whole-body burial for a much lower cost; then we do have the older outdoorsy people who just like hiking, as well as the evangelical Christians who feel its more in keeping with the dust to dust and protecting God's creation," Tommy Campbell said. "One patient of mine who had led anti-zoning people locally surprised me when he bought a plot; but he told me, 'I love the woods, it's you environmentalists I don't like.' "

Disruptive innovation – challenging the status quo

The cost savings and natural beauty suggest Ramsey Creek would be a compelling option, but since the park opened in 1998, it has only had 80 people buried there, while another 300 plots have been pre-sold.

In contrast, Glenn Miller, the general manager at Floyd Mortuary in Spartanburg, said his business performs about 850 burials in a year. He said he has only fielded one inquiry about natural burial.

"It may be the distance people have to travel if they care to visit a grave site or the fact there may not be any permanent memorial," Miller said. "Most families still have the traditional type funeral service with a final disposition."

Kimberley Campbell said she thinks the tendency toward traditional burial has more to do with misconceptions about the natural alternative and a lack of education about other viable options.

Sam Pratt, for example, said he'd "been laboring under the misapprehension that burial without embalming was unlawful."

Not only is it legal, Kimberley Campbell said the stigma of natural burial being crude or uncivilized seems misplaced when compared to the invasiveness of pumping chemicals into the body.

"During the embalming process you are replacing the blood with toxic chemicals that burn if you get them on your skin," Kimberley Campbell said. "Its not a legal requirement to be embalmed but people think they are preserving the body and are uncomfortable with the sense of decay."

"Apparently, Americans have been sold the notion they can protect their deceased loved ones against the elements," Eva Pratt said. "I thought it was necessary to be embalmed, and I also thought the time constraints would be more stringent for natural burial."

In reality, Tommy Campbell said, keeping the body in a cooler works as well as embalming to preserve the body.

Their customers have the option of using local funeral homes to keep and transport the body, but Kimberley Campbell said people also can opt to do everything themselves and use dry ice or keep the body at the hospital morgue until the burial.

Another question people raise is if their loved ones will be able to locate their grave in the woods. In the case of Ramsey Creek, "simple" burial takes advantage of modern technology in the form of a geographic information system to record the exact location of each burial site. Clients also can choose to get their names and dates engraved on a stone, but the slab has to be of South Carolina origin, as does any foliage.

The Pratts chose a stone from a creek on their property to use for a tombstone.

"The owners have an obvious commitment to the preservation of the indigenous flora and fauna to the area," Sam Pratt said. "We found a more natural, scenic burial ground more attractive, and we're glad to be able to participate in land preservation."

The Campbells say they aren't discouraged with the progress they are making as they attempt to disrupt social norms with their innovative idea.

"If this can work in conservative, rural Westminster with its rebel flags and churches, it can work anywhere," Kimberley Campbell said.

Since opening Ramsey Creek, the Campbells have helped start three other memorial parks across the United States and are working on a fourth in Atlanta.

"To disrupt an industry you generally need to find people who are underserved, over served or both," Tommy Campbell said. "We have people who can't afford regular funerals and people who don't want them, and that's the perfect climate for being disruptive innovators. Once we are out there with more locations it will become a more convenient choice."

Thank you, Todd.

Dear Todd,

It seems like just yesterday I was rolling you out of the lot. A toddler in the car world, you were just broken in, but quite far from broken. Many miles under your belt, you still rode smooth and confident through seas of inferior autos. You gleamed in the sun; you gleamed without the sun. You were my first certified pre-owned companion to the highway.

You carried me through the mid west, twice.
You took me over the Rockies, and into the deserts of Moab.
You have served as a bed, a storage unit, a dog crate and a waiting room.
You've seen snow, wind, rain, and Mass drivers. And you've never failed me.

Today, as you rotated your wheels over your 150,000th mile of earth, I thought about how lucky I was to have found you, Todd. Our journey has been long and expansive, and it has been a great success.

Keep up the good work, my big little Subie. Thank you for all that you do.

Regards,
Your humble driver.

Grout and Rosita.

We decided to re-do our shower (a.k.a. the "bathtub surround" -according to home improvement how-to books). As usual, we forgot that we aren't blessed with superpowers to finish a project in one weekend. So... here we are in the middle of weekend #2, in the home stretch, which is sometimes the worst place to be. And, when I say "we," it's really been Patrick's project- but since it's all but had him sleeping IN the bathtub, I've been keeping up the rest of the house. Running all those errands, walking the dog, and cooking those meals by myself makes me mega-appreciate Patrick's regular contributions. He does a lot. BUT this ambitious project means that I, by default, must do more than usual. So, I'm really tired, and I'm bitching about it. Thank goodness we're getting to do this stuff before children happen. I can't imagine how anyone gets anything done with kids in the mix. I admire anyone who can- but I can say I'm thankful to no end that we got into the homeowning realm, pre-conception. We would not be re-doing anything if we were already parents, and we would not be paying someone else to do it, either. We'd be living with the mauve, vinyl-sided tub walls until the day we sold the damn place.

Once the tile grout is dry, (T - 48 hrs) I get my shower back- and it will be a much much nicer shower- so it'll all be worth it. But right now, I'm sticky and sweaty and angry- and in order to rinse off I must take my shower basket (yes, the same one I used during college dorm life!) to the clubhouse pool showers. While annoying, it's been a very nice option to take advantage of. When we hiked the AT, going for a week without a shower was all part of the experience, and I accepted it without qualms. But at work I have to sit at a desk in close quarters with several people, and smelling like a hiker isn't as appreciated in that setting.

Speaking of my early morning clubhouse shower escapades... I've had the pleasure of stripping down to the skin in the company of my elderly European companion, Rosita. Rosita is the very sweet, very kind, very chatty little lady of Mountain Home Estates, and she likes to swim at 6 am. I've had the pleasure of showering with her before work for a week, trying hard to politely participate in the conversation -despite the fact I'm used to speaking to no one until my first cup of coffee at 8:30. Here she is at dawn telling me I have a beautiful figure. I'm getting hit on by a female senior citizen. Truthfully, she comes from a generation and culture that would never consider such a compliment as a come-on. All the same, hearing this statement almost made me drop the soap as I thought "Am I still dreaming, because this is all too surreal." Again I'll reiterate that she is the sweetest person I've met in this neighborhood yet, and once she talks for a bit, I find myself engaged in the conversation. As engaged as I can be; talking to a stranger whilst shaving my legs.

I've been writing in installments tonight, in-between grouting the tiles. The project, long as it was, went incredibly smooth until tonight. We've been grouting for 6 hours, it's 11 PM, and we've not eaten since breakfast. The grout decided to dry before we could finish laying it. If ever a Saturday night was not fun, it was this one. And when I did venture to the clubhouse at 10 to clean the grout off my ass (literally) - a big skunk ran in front of me. The dude carrying a sixpack up to his front door looked thoroughly confused as to why I stood stone still in his parking lot, holding a basket of shampoo.

Six pack... sounds like an incredible idea about now.