This year I . . .

• rediscovered the magic of Harry Potter. Read books five through seven and went to the midnight showing - all in November.
• learned about lacto-fermentation. My favorite concoction so far is the shredded beets with apple. So good in a veggie wrap. The sauerkraut was okay, the pickles were awesome, and I've been enjoying a fermented peach slice or two in my morning smoothie. Yum.
• gave my dehydrator a workout. dried pears and mango = candy.
• fit in my skinny jeans (as of today. Happy New Year to me!). I'm now in the best shape I've been able to manage since the great thyroid disaster of 2008.
• read a lot of books. Wallace Stegner and Anne Tyler top the list of new favorite authors.
• made a new e-friend (Hi, Miri!).
• cooked eggplant Parmesan for the first time. Made up my own recipe. The secret's in the sauce . . . and the Japanese-style breadcrumbs.
• ate roughly a million pounds of Swiss Chard, the most prolific plant in my garden. Still eating it in smoothies.
• quit drinking cow's milk and gave up cheese and ice cream most of the time. My body has been throwing me a party ever since.
• worried a lot about the present and the future, felt despair, then did some hard things.
• danced in a studio for the first time in five years. My soul needs it.
• didn't blog very much. I just didn't feel up to it a lot of the time.
• celebrated my fifth anniversary. It's hard to believe. Harder still: believing that I first met Clark over ten years ago.
• found   lots.  of.  new-to-me.  music.  I.  love.
• learned to play a little ukulele. (lol!)
• ate a lot of tofu sausage. and a lot of healthy bread.
• freed my skin and hair from the tyranny of sulfates, parabens, and silicone. So what if my hair smells like a salad?
• watched all seven seasons of The West Wing, again . . . and two seasons of Lois and Clark (yes, the new adventures of Superman - from the 90s). 
• considered trying to find more recent sources of entertainment, then gave up and read more books.
• sold some junk on craigslist for the first time. I'm pretty sure all your home lacks is a black futon frame that my husband pulled out of a dumpster and refurbished. It can be yours; price negotiable.
• directed the yearly primary program - with some kick-butt dynamics.
• learned to really like those little boogers in primary. Loving them was easy; liking them took some work for me.
• handed my calling off to Clark. Every week I sneak a peak at him singing with the nursery kids; it's hands-down the cutest thing I have ever seen.
• grew my biggest garden ever, thanks to neighbors who let us use part of their open field.
• made some new friends. Really new. I'm excited to get to know them better. It's amazing what happens when I don't spend all my time hibernating, commuting, or studying.
• didn't take my grad school comps. I was near catatonic in October; it just didn't happen. The new goal is March.
• got a new, seemingly free heater. the old one was an oil furnace that gave out several times before we gave in. Last Christmas, Mom and I huddled under blankets for two days watching Cranford because no one was available to fix it. This year we watched Return to Cranford in relative comfort. The heater installation was done in September and we have yet to see a bill. I'm a little worried, but for the moment I'm 4k richer. and a lot warmer.
• was proud of Clark. He worked hard at building walls, installing insulation, and doing other hard things.
• felt support and love from people who came to help us build walls, install insulation, and do other hard things.
• was more settled-in at work.
• spent time alone and liked my own company.
• taught a short grammar class to a group of sassy legal-assistant students. I hope they now understand the concept of antecedents. ^sigh^t
  
• went to my ten year high school reunion. I was a little ambivalent about going, but I'm glad I went. It was a good time, and I was delighted to find all you girlfriends of mine who have grown into confident women are more beautiful now than ever. 
• kicked out the tenant from our basement apartment.
• learned how better to screen for tenants for our basement apartment.
• meditated by a lake at what was possibly the best professional conference of all time.
• finished my last class some classes for my master's degree.
• didn't write a thesis, mourned my failure to academicize, then reconsidered the future of my academic career. Yes; I am still paralyzed by indecision.
• took back Christmas. As opposed to the failed campaigns of 2005-2009, in 2010 we made about 90% of all of the gifts we gave.
• didn't mail off said gifts before Christmas. There may or may not be something life-changing coming to a mailbox near you. but probably not.

The best I can say for 2010 is that it's over and I did some things, felt some feelings, and learned some stuff. Sweet success?! I think it might be.

Here's to next year, my friends. A happy 2011 to you.

evidence of (academic) conversion

This week I start the last required class of my MPA program. It feels crazy that it's ending and even crazier that it ever began. I sort of stumbled on political science and public administration as a field of study - and it has turned out to be a delightful surprise. Studying literature as an undergrad fed my soul and increased my capacity to think critically about the world around me and my ability to articulate it all. (What more could anyone want from her college experience?!) At first, I didn't feel that way about my MPA classes; I felt a little . . . empty. Okay, maybe empty is too strong a word, but it certainly didn't fill me up like studying literature and language. Until, that is, I realized that it is literature and language with all the same compelling drama and import, it's just a specialized branch with more practical applications (at least according to the economic powers that be). I often wondered - at night, when I was huddled under the covers reading literature instead of, say, doing research for a paper - if I had made the wisest choice. But now I know.

Since spring semester finished in May I've been doing a bit of fun reading - both fiction and non-fiction of various stripes and colors. I even bought a policy analysis book for summer reading. F-U-N, right? A little beach reading, perhaps? Well, I started reading and loving it. When I went to class on yesterday, I found out that sections of my new book are required reading. And I loved my life.

as promised

This is long overdue; but I still wanted to write about our farm experience.

Fun fact: the food you eat, regardless of where you get it, comes from a farm (yes, even the high-fructose corn-syrup, even though it doesn't resemble a plant anymore). Our CSA experience was a cool farm-to-table experience. I knew exactly where my food came from, how it had been grown, that the seeds weren't "roundup ready" so I wasn't eating plants genetically altered to repel or kill bugs (I know; I have problems.).

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So, what is a CSA? So glad you asked. This is how it works: you buy a "share" of the farm's spoils upfront - which is the appropriate word because there is some risk involved. In our case, we purchased our share in the winter; the farm has to plan ahead and buy seeds, equipment, etc. At our CSA, the earlier you buy, the cheaper the share is. Your share entitles you to a portion of the spoils, but if there aren't any spoils due to bad weather or pests, you lose. Once a week you pick up your share. In our case, we went directly to the farm in Victor, ID, which was fun . . . for the first 8 weeks or so (Our share lasted 17 weeks). (In other locales, with a greater infrastructure for local food, you can pick up a share at a farmers' market or other such convenient location.) We loved it. Okay, I loved it. I learned to cook new things and appreciate a diversity of vegetables and mushrooms. I acquired a love of fennel. I have to say, if you haven't ever had fresh garlic (before the skin gets papery and dry), you are missing out. The only downside is that it was so much food, and a lot of it was pretty labor-intensive to cook or preserve. I cook, and I don't mind the time in the kitchen. But harvest time is also back-to-school time, and I took a full-time course load while working full time. Clark cooks too, but his culinary vein runs along the familiar instead of the adventurous. So, some of our fresh produce went to waste, and that is my only regret.  I would do it again in a minute and recommend it to anyone who likes vegetables, cooking, and is interested in getting the most vitamin-rich, fresh food available.

There is likely a CSA near you. You can check it out here.

'baring our souls and telling the most appalling secrets'

One of the classes I took this fall was a leadership class. My classmates and I did projects and case studies and a therapy-inducing 360 review to evaluate and develop our leadership capacity. As the culminating project, we were asked to write a "This I believe" essay to help us identify our core values. Writing the essay was an interesting experience; it made me realize that while my values don't change easily or often, the way I choose to express them does. Needless to say, there were drafts and drafts of drafts before I was finished. The hardest part was knowing that I would have to deliver it as a speech to my class. How much of your soul can you comfortably share with relative strangers? Turns out, not very much; I prepared to get uncomfortable. Some of my classmates' essays were deeply personal, sharing details about losing children, finding forgiveness, and developing or losing faith. Others were more of the bullet point variety. I think mine lay somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Anyway, I figured if I could share it with them I could share it with you, so here it is:



December 2009

This I believe

I believe a culture that values education will thrive and grow. Education bears the fruit of tolerance, self-knowledge, and positive social change. I believe learning is its own reward and that those who believe money is their reward for education, will get it, and without much trouble but likely without much knowledge. While a college degree happens to be a strong social currency, Education and its applications are not and must not be confined to classrooms. Jed, a young student I met while working as a writing tutor, showed me this (names have, of course, been changed). He returned to college after serving a sentence for a felony conviction. While working together on his essays, he confided that by going to college, learning to focus on math and sociology and writing, he has also learned to control his anger. He now has some good friends, a scholarship, and a fresh start. I believe in education. I believe it is the best solution to long-term problems because it is the only long-term, transformative solution.

I believe in the power of food as a healing instrument and a means of cultural self-expression. Every day I make choices between options that are narrowed by a culture that is powered by corporations and industry. I have the power to take back my original, now invisible options. Common sense and communion and have given way to Gogurt and Gushers, fruit loops and high-fructose corn syrup. Before they came from multivitamins, nutrients came from food. Uncomplicated, unpackaged, unprocessed food. Last summer I found a part of myself as I learned to make cheese from milk as my great, great grandmother must have done, and yet another as I visited the farm where my food was grown and grew more vegetables in my own garden. I can comprehend, though vaguely, the complexities and joys of life halfway across the world as I parse a complicated curry or burn my first souffle. I believe Food is a way to simultaneously connect with the earth from which it came and the people who create meals from its bountiful ingredients. When I make deliberate choices about food, I recognize myself as a part of the whole.

I believe the mouth is one of the most important parts of the body. It is where nourishment enters body and the mind finds expression as ideas exit in the form of words. I believe that I, along with many others, would find more happiness and health if I guard more closely what goes in and what comes out. A large ship is indeed guided by a small rudder.

I believe in the transformative nature of words and ideas. Among others, Victor Hugo, Charles Dickens, and Harper Lee have shown me the power of words and parts of me are real products of their fictions. Scout’s innocence and evolving devotion to justice, Pip’s realization of his self-destructive search for external happiness, and Jean Val jean’s story of kindness, mercy, and personal redemption express some of the best parts of me and ideals to which I aspire.

Although I had read or been read to all my life, the first book I remember getting excited about is Johnny Tremain. I was ten, and my teacher had assigned the book. I read it twice, once for fun, and answered every question with a paragraph where a sentence would have sufficed. A new world had been opened. Reading has allowed me to glimpse the wonder of science, experience the beauty of a diverse humanity, and find companions in this human experience.

I believe that we are connected in ways we do not and cannot understand that are best expressed through literature. Poetry, once inaccessible to me, has given breath and validity to my own deepest emotions and core beliefs. With John Donne, I affirm that all mankind is of one author, no man is an island and that any man’s death diminishes me. I believe, like W.H. Auden, that we must love one another, or die. These words and ideas penned by great authors and poets have allowed me to think their thoughts and become, if only slightly, the product of their ideals. God bless Gutenberg.

Okay, bloggers, Consider yourselves "tagged." If you choose to blog a This I Believe essay, post a link in the comment section; I would love to read yours, now that I've borne my soul. It's a challenge, and knowing that someone else will read it changes the quality of the experience. You'll find instructions here. Who knows? You may like it so much that you'll want to go on the record by submitting it to the NPR Essay database.

the genuine (definite) article

Remember when Clark was studying his maths? Well, it was because he was prepping for the GRE and applying to graduate school. Now it's official; Clark is IN. He actually got notice over two weeks ago, sent in the commitment letter one week ago, but didn't want to announce to the world how awesome he is until things were squared away at work. Now things are squared, and Clark is awesome squared.

Beginning in January, Clark will be a graduate student in the Educational Technology Leadership program at The George Washington University (the 'The' is part of the name. Funny.). The program can be completed online; considering the field of study, it should be a great way to learn. With any luck, we'll graduate at the same time.

doing maths

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Clark has been studying his maths* lately. That may be a surprise. But there is an even bigger surprise: he's enjoying it. This makes me wonder.

Like many people, I didn't have many good experiences with math in my early years.

I see the math paralysis in the eyes of students who come to me in tears because they are near failing despite their hours with tutors in the math lab. Like them, I never savored college algebra. I saved my one required math class (statistics) until my last semester of college . . . and I understood it. I studied it. I even liked it.

So why do so many people fear math?

I have a theory about why. First, I think our brains were just not ready for it when it was first introduced to us as children. The power of abstract thought generally develops in early puberty; this ability is essential in order to understand how 'x' could possibly equal 42. So, that being said, can't we let kids perfect the basics before we mix the letters and the numbers?

Second, people who major in math or science and do well in school have many, many lucrative career options. These options must make teaching seem like full-time charity work. I'm sure that there are some very, very good teachers out there. I had an amazing physics teacher at HHS. (Thank you, Mr. Summerhayes.) I'm just saying that out of the six years I spend in secondary education, I only remember the name one math teacher. One. And I only remember him because he told so many painful, punny jokes.

*I first heard "maths" in plural form from a student from the UK, where, apparently, there is more than one math. Love it.

a brief lesson in ettiquette

Dear hungry classmates,

The point at which your meal requires a fork is also the point at which you probably shouldn't eat it during class.

Regards,

Linds

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to be, or what to be?

When they asked me what I wanted to be I said I didn’t know.
"Oh, sure you know," the photographer said.
"She wants," said Jay Cee wittily, "to be everything."
-Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

I'm coming up on graduation next summer. The process has been extraordinarily short compared with the undergrad experience (5 years! not to mention the two year break for a mission); I feel like I just got started. When it comes up in conversation that I am in school, most people ask what I want to be. I usually just say "educated," in order to avoid the subject.

Really, I want to be everything.

false start

Last night I drove home from school with the window down . . . the whole hour of my commute. The feel of the cool evening air and the tricolor sunset just made me feel good. It made me feel like I was in college again . . . . because I am. I live for this time of year; I love the end of summer and the beginning of school. Something about living by the agrarian calendar just feels right to me.

Last fall semester I found myself a bit disappointed in my Master's program, underwhelmed by the expectations of my professors, and unimpressed by some of my classmates. At the time, I just expected more. I wanted to be intellectually intimidated -- as a form of motivation to be and do my best, and I just didn't feel it. I have looked forward to grad school for a long time; perhaps in my anticipation I let my expectations get a bit too lofty.

This semester, I thought I knew what to expect. I was so ready to get back to school that I purchased my books two months ago and started reading a bit. As I arrived at school on Monday, there were more people than I have ever seen on campus. There was a barbecue on the quad. The marching band was practicing. Cheerleaders were tumbling. But, as I approached my destination I could see on the door of the poly sci building a bright orange paper that read, "Classes begin on August 25th". Awesome. Two hours and two-hours' worth of gas wasted.

Yesterday, the day classes actually did start, I got my first dose of Public Policy Analysis, and it made me want to take back every bad thing I have said about ISU (except about its customer service; it's still terrible). The students I sat by had great ideas and varied perspectives. There are more women in the progam this year and more international students (which is to say, there are more than zero). There were thirty people in my class, none of them afraid to talk . . . and what they said was interesting and applicable. The textbooks and reading selections are interesting and full of theory. Needless to say, this will be a vastly different experience than the last. I may just have drive home with the window down every night this semester.