Coming Back HOME

Hello World! I would like to first explain the brief hiatus I've taken from this blog. It is certainly not for lack of content for my world has sort of been turned...on it's side at least...in the last few weeks. I simply haven't written because I have far too much to write about. Trust me, I'm still overanalyzing everything. :)
So, to remedy that, here's a simple post that arches over many of the little topics that have been on my mind.

Last night Amil and I and two friends watched the movie Home. This familiar movie, released in 2009, covers the highlights of human culture from the forming of the world, to the birth of agriculture to our current adjustments to the environment. This is a non-profit movie created with the intent to be free, with the hopes that it would reach as many people as possible in this crucial time. In this 1.5 hour movie, almost every subject from my freshman Environmental Science class was mentioned, as well as facts from the books Dirt and El Nino that I've recently finished. Although it was sort of preaching to the choir for me, I don't think I will every reach the point where this information doesn't shake me, move me and inspire me to do even more. At the very least, seeing these stark examples of farmers in Africa contrasted with tractors running in America gives perspective on the immense diversity of this beautiful blue ball, while showing the similarities we all deal with.
I think this movie should be required viewing for every person in this country, and many other developing country. You can't deny the facts presented in this but to live without knowledge of them is purely denying our human truth. That's like ordering the extra large chocolate-dipped Mr. Softee and thinking there are no calories simply because they're not printed on the little piece of paper that's wrapped around the cone.
Here's what I took away from watching the movie last night.  
     
      Actions I'm taking as an American Consumer that I'm proud of:

1. Eating locally (from our work garden, from friend's gardens, from our backyard, or from the co-op)
2. Eating write-off produce and products that would otherwise be thrown away, planning careful use of the food we have so we throw away minimal food.
3. Buying used! With the exception of a mattress pump I bought with a gift card in a desperate situation, I can honestly not remember the last time I bought a product new. Since moving to a new place in February, I've purchased all of our needs from local thrift stores, or received them from friends- everything from ice cube trays to Guitars.
4. I combine all my errands into one trip to minimize driving time. We own one car and are challenging ourselves to only use one tank of gas a month. We ride our bike/roller blade as much as possible, and sometimes pass on events that are happening too far away.
5. I make my own toothpaste, shampoo, and deodorant at a super low cost.

Actions I'm planning to work on more in the future (starting today!) because the planet doesn't have time for me to procrastinate.

1. Reducing my habit of gluttony. My life has always revolved around food, and I'm trying to learn how to eat what I need, and not just eat for fun. My best friend is researching and practicing sun-eating, and eating a mucus-free diet (he'll have a blog about it soon!), and is overwhelming me with facts about how little we actually need to eat. Overeating is a trained habit, but an unnecessary one.
2. Continue striving to live simply and sustainably: enjoy the simple moments like sunrise/sunset and live without Kindles and phoneApps and similar distractions.
3. Get more involved in my community: be a big sister and a mentor.

Let me know if you've seen the movie (and everyone should!) and what it inspires within you. Continue making changes to support our planet and be sure to take time each day to think about how the planet is supporting you.

Success is Sweat

"We did it," said CJ around 10:30pm, as we arranged some things in the office before retiring for a well earned night's sleep. We had just returned from a debrief of a 6 day 5 night trip with 18 students from Poland. The itinerary included a trip to the Grand Canyon, our Base Camp, Chaco Canyon and the property of a company-friend where we often stay in exchange for some labor.
"We're crazy," I uttered, thinking back on the emotionally, physically and mentally draining week that was intertwined with incredible rewards that would only make sense to the 4 of us working the trip.
"Yea-" she started to say, catching herself. "No, people who go to the same place every day are crazy."
"yeah!" I added, "People who wake up and sit in traffic for hours every morning and afternoon to stare at their cubicle walls are crazy!" We laughed.
The next night I found myself chatting with another worker about the tradeoffs of a job like this.
"What did we do to get a job that makes us happy?" he quizzed? "We sweat. A lot" I responded.
"It takes a lot of sweat, though." He paused, reflecting in his head. "a LOT of sweat." His implication was that it almost isn't worth it. At this point of the year, coming off a busy spring, an insanely busy summer, and a sporadically busy fall, it's not unusual for people in this line of work to start envisioning themselves in an autumn wonderland-- a time when they can rock climb without belaying 11 years-olds, hike without being so distracted by asking 20 children to put on sunscreen that you forget it yourself, and otherwise enjoy the great outdoors with love in actual silence, not the shuffling and scraping sounds that come after begging the group for a few silent moments.
I have found myself looking forward to the fall for several weeks now, only to remind myself to wait and appreciate those sun-soaked days. I have a growing list of projects I'm looking forward to do when I'm not working, but I know that after a week and a half of home-bound projects and crafting, I'll be itching to explore outdoors, and wishing I had a company vehicle and a group of wide-eyed 12 year olds to teach to. Maybe a month and a half for that.
This last week was a wonderful way to cap off an exciting year in Outdoor Education. For one, I think I learned at least as much as I taught, but probably more. I learned about my personal needs, and different styles of teaching for people of different cultures. I saw my first wild Tarantula and held my first bat!. I learned a few words in Polish, as well as Polish eating and working habits.
At one moment I sat with my head in my hands, wondering how on earth I could teach them to respect our equipment, because nothing I had done had convinced them yet. On the verge of tears I pondered other jobs, and wondered how many people reading this have cried in their last month or two at work. But then I wondered how many people get to see complete transformations at their jobs. I saw a girl who has never washed a dish in  her life, completely do her dishes without any nagging. I saw a teacher give in to our traditions, and a peer acknowledge their occasional hard-headedness. Perhaps it's the exhaustion of hauling 30 lb water jugs around, waking up early to cook and staying up late to plan, or the beauty and openness of the wilderness around us, but these breakthroughs offer an overwhelming reward. Hearing a Polish child ask for a songbook so they can sing cowboy songs when three days ago they were begging to hear their American playlist in the vans is just one of those moments when you know that it IS worth it. I'd sweat buckets for those moments. and I do. :)

I have one more trip of blood, sweat and tears, and all the passion I can muster before I get to collapse into my firm bed and blog away the autumn. I'm looking forward to these last 3 days of the year, spending the nights in my paradise, and sharing whatever teachable moments I can to anyone who will listen.

What are you Wining About? Taking Local Food to a New Level

This morning I thought I would be nice and chop up some salad for Amil’s lunch, since he’s doing me a favor and picking up some things downtown. I chopped up some co-op cabbage (that’s on its last leg, but somehow still delicious despite buying it almost three weeks ago) and some farmers market tomatoes (that Amil had bought as green tomatoes, but they reddened up in our basket). Once I had a nice pile of chopped veggies, I reached for our usual salad bowl. It wasn’t there. I looked all around before I remembered where I saw it--outside with 50 or so peach pits in it, the result of Amil’s latest alcohol-making endeavor. 

Although there are still pieces of peach stuck to our floor, the three large buckets of fermenting peach goodness seems promising. At the very least, I’m impressed by his motivation to take a 35lb box of squishy peaches from the co-op (which he marked with a sign claiming, “I’m makin’ Hooch!”) and turn it into something, even if it ends up as a mere experiment. I too, had dreams of making stuffed grape leaves, or even jam, but they haven’t come into fruition. It’s partly because I haven’t had a chunk of time I deem appropriate for collecting, smashing, canning, etc., but it’s also because I haven’t invested in the tools necessary. I did buy some awesome looking low-sugar pectin! But no jars, no pot big enough to get the jars, and not one of those things to get the jars out of the hot water. I think I’m making it out to be more than it should be, all the while I’m resolving that next year, I WILL do something with our grapes, apples, etc. At the very least, I want to make apple cider vinegar out of all the fallen apples in the orchard. Hopefully as autumn blows in, we’ll have a large batch of pecans to figure out what to do with. But I know I don’t need special  tools for that. Some salt, spices, and a nut cracker!

The real point of this blog was to highlight the funky-smelling, burping, massive glass containers that are sitting in the middle of our kitchen/living room. (photo coming soon). This was Amil’s first project with the grapes growing in our backyard (other than over cereal, or in Chickpea salad, or laying them along the adobe to dry out into raisins). Amil has been hanging out with some new friends from the Wine Making club of Albuquerque, who have offered to bring their supplies over and donate some materials to make wine. Another friend he made makes strawberry brandy and the like, so Amil’s been calling him about what to do with 35 lbs of peaches.
I was out of town when Bill came over with his grape crushing machine, as they harvested, smashed, stirred, poured and combined yeast with the grapes, but the evidence is all around our house. There’s smushed grapes on almost everything, and a big pile of grape innards past our fence, but the best thing is these two bubbling jugs of what will someday be wine. After just a week of bubbling, Amil made a careful pour of the chalky-tan substance, and gave it a whiff.

“Smells like wine!” *slow sip* “tastes like it, too!” I sniffed along for good measure. Indeed, it smelled like red wine, despite its color and texture. We’re on the right path.
Our grapes have been sweetening up for about a month, and in that time we’ve had dozens of people take impressive amounts home with them for their own wine adventures. I’m encouraged by their promises of bringing us a bottle, knowing that if ours doesn’t taste great, we’ll have at least a few others on hand. 

More updates on the local food front coming soon. In the meantime, I'm off to Philmont to deliver a workshop, then out to the Grand Canyon with a group of students from Poland. Never a dull moment. 

A day in the Life

I really do feel like I have the best job in the world.
Today, I got to take 48 Montessori students (1st, 2nd and 3rd grade) on a 3 mile hike to a beautiful vista at Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument.

While driving there, some of the usual environmental concerns popped into my head.
'Would it be more efficient for us to have newer vehicles? Or is it good that we maintain our old vehicles so that we don't have to use new resources?'
'Could the kids get the same experience from something closer, cutting our driving time and fuel use down?'
...etc.
Overall, I think that we do a pretty good low-impact outdoor experience, and that impact is made up for by the positive impact I see our excursions having on the students.

The day was full of funny things kids say, like "Aw, how sad, some people died" as we passed the cemetery, or one kid telling the other that he is not a mature 2nd grader. And there were some tears as we neared the top and they couldn't get their little legs to lift up those big rocks anymore. But the highlight for me came from about .5 mile into the hike. We were stopped at an oak tree, examining the acorns, when I pulled off a gall

(like this, but orange)

 

and asked them what they thought it was. I had them pass it around to confirm that it was something squishy, which was one of the items we needed for our scavenger hunt. Then I opened the top and showed them the inside. The same little girl who I had talked to about having a positive mental attitude, and had expressed that you don't know how much you like something until you try, said "WOW! I LOVE hiking! I want to do this more often." Later she told me she wanted to do this at least once a month.
It was her who had the most struggles going up, and despite the fact that sometimes she said she was a "tough cookie" as she took another step, other times she said she couldn't make it.
I made a deal that if she made it to the top, I'd carry her backpack back down....and guess what? She made it to the top. She was so proud, she carried her own backpack down (as I suspected she would).

Her mother thanked me for my "interaction with [her] daughter" at the end of the trip, but the pleasure was all mine. Even if she was the only kid to feel like this was a wonderful experience, and that hiking and exploring and breathing fresh air is something that she wants to do regularly, I feel we succeeded. But I imagine we sparked a bit of interest. And we get to take the group out again in October.

Calculating your Carbon Footprint

The whole reason I started this blog is because I believe I’m pretty environmentally conscious, and sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who thinks through the repercussions of certain actions. That said, I feel like my carbon footprint has greatly increased upon moving to the city. I’ve justified it mostly by telling myself that the work I do connecting students to nature and getting them thinking about water conservation and electricity use is worth the energy expended, but it’s time to put some science to that thought.

I just read a delightfully fun book by local author Laura f. Sanchez, called Freaking Green. We are thinking about having this be our kick-off book to start off our state-wide book club for environmental educators, or environmentally minded people. The premise of the book is that a teenage girl’s life is turned upside down when her great aunt dies and requires that the family cut their carbon footprint by 80% if they are to inherit her estate. Although there were plenty of tacky-teenage bits, I feel that a lot of people could relate to this book, just like I did. What I really hope is that if teachers require this reading for students, they follow up with a project to see how much of their carbon footprint they could decrease. Inspired by the book, I decided to estimate my own carbon footprint since I moved to Albuquerque 6 months ago.

I did a google search for Carbon Footprint Calculators, and found the following two most helpful:

 This quick and easy test gives you a basic idea of how many tons of carbon your actions produce every year, while giving you the option to donate to the Nature Conservancy (my favorite place to donate!) to "offset" your carbon footprint. My number was 18 tons, which is less than the us average of 27 tons, but far greater than the world average of 5.5 tons. WOW. This is why I love numbers.

The Ecological Footprint Quiz has some fun background music and a cute little interactive scene. I like that it asked more specific questions, but still left a few things out (they asked how much I drive, but not what kind of vehicle).

Here's a nice little graphic of my results.

I'm curious how the results differ from this time last year, when Amil and I were living in a 5^th wheel trailer in the San Bernardino mountains, right after having traveled across the country and back to visit family for a month.  But I don't remember enough details to take the full test.

What really inspired this entry was not the book I read, which led me into some fascinating research, but a comment that an old friend made, asking if me living in Albuquerque was “sustainable” since I preach eco-friendly living, but am living in a desert. I retorted that I live along the river and the water we use to flood the pecan trees and water the grass comes from the acequias. I do my part to conserve water around the house, too, taking seldom showers, and washing dishes with one bucket-full of water that we then broadcast onto the trees outside (we use a biodegradable soap called Miracle 2, that Amil could write more about).

One thing I love about this city is how environmentally friendly it seems. The recycling bin is as big as the trash bin (although it doesn’t get picked up as frequently), which I can’t say about our service in Texas. The city as a whole is incredibly water conscious, with a noticeably large amount of xeriscaped lawns and lots of reclaimed water sprinkler systems. I've read through lists of 'the most sustainable or eco-friendly cities in the US', but just like with the Footprint calculators, they leave a lot of things out. I'm going to continue to search for how sustainable Albuquerque is, but in the meantime, I'm still casting my dishwater on my plants.  

I

Rants and Raves

Have you ever seen something that makes you want to scream, pull out your hair and fall to your knees crying? I feel that I have gotten pretty good at pushing through the day-to-day (though it’s never) routine glossing past things that make me want to stop and scream at someone, but sometimes those things need to be addressed. My sweetie told me today that I do a good job of expressing those feelings in a calm way. He attributed my love for science as a way for me to express the problems I have seen and felt in the world with facts. For example, something happened today that made my heart jump out of my chest, my stomach tie in knots and my blood pump furiously throughout my body. So what did I do? I opened up my computer and typed out the following letter to some of my sort of supervisors.

Good morning ____ and ____,

I am back to our sweet little home, and jumping back into weeding, cleaning, and planning for programs. I’m writing to you now to bring to light a situation that greatly pains me here at B.

This weekend Amil and I spent about 6 hours weeding around caretakers, the driveway, and the grapes, in hopes that it would tame some of the most ferocious weeds, like the goatheads and

​ amaranth. ​

Since taking this job I have developed a strong curiosity toward weeds, thinking about focusing on weeds for my Master Naturalist project, when the time comes for me to enter that program. I have been looking at courses at UNM or online to teach me more about weeds, which I also studied a fair amount this summer. 

I say all of this because I want you know that I am passionate about keeping this space beautiful, but doing it in a way that correlates with our mission to connect people with the outdoors. This morning, as happens almost every week, ____,

​who works relentlessly to keep this place maintained

, was seen spraying around our house with a gas-mask on, being sure to stay far away from the poison he was pouring on the plants along our driveway. This chemical is covering the plants that we spend hours weeding with our gloved hands, and is likely the culprit for killing the bumble bees I have seen on multiple occasions writhing and wrenching as them chemical pours through their body before rendering them useless to their hive. We watched as he rounded the house, as we were making breakfast with the windows open, wondering if we’ll remember which patches got sprayed when we go out to remove them.

My main frustration with watching him spray these plants, is that these are plants like grass that I purposely left in place, spending my hours instead to pull the more dangerous weeds. As I mentioned, I am still learning about the weeds in New Mexico, but I do know that of the three classes of weeds, only things like goatheads, Bull Thistle, and bindweed are a direct threat to our lands. The other “weeds” have important jobs like habitats for ants and termites (whose colonies allow more water to be absorbed into the ground, at a rate 10 times that of compacted soil, thereby decreasing erosion), and holding onto the dirt to prevent it from blowing away in our strong spring gusts. In my opinion, anything that is able to grow away from our carefully maintained drip-irrigation and is not hazardous to the landscape or the humans or animals that come to visit Bachechi, should be given a chance.

I understand if this belief is not in line with the county’s mission in landscape maintenance, but I hope that you will at least consider preventing the spraying of chemicals around the parking lot and house, where almost every person and pet that come here spend time walking or sniffing around. I would love to live in a place where landscaped plants and wild plants can live in harmony, especially in an Open Space like this.

I appreciate you taking the time to hear this, and any conversations that come up as a result of this plea.
Thanks for all that you do,

Cass and Amil

I neglected Amil's advice to wait it out, and send it when I was calmer, insisting that it would make me calmer to get my feelings out in the open. (In hindsight, the whole thing seems so silly I hesitated to put it down here, but I had already written half this blog in the heat of the moment, and it seemed a good ...example). After sending it, and biking as fast as I could do the office to take up my boss's suggestion that I weed over there, where it will be very appreciated (despite the fact that I had been weeding for a least an hour a day in both places-- talk about killer glutes!), I did feel better. But part of that time was spent weeding to Johhny Truant and Iron Maiden. Nothing like some good aggressive plant pulling to calm you down.

I also felt a little silly ranting to my boss. She asked if some of the weeds we left behind were non-native-- a question that I surprisingly hadn't thought of. I'm sure that some of them are not native, and that's another thing I want to learn about the plants around here, but that question proved to me that in my haste of anger, I didn't think through the whole situation.

I must also say that I received a very kind response from one of my very favorite supervisors. This is the woman in charge of our contracts, who brought her boyfriend out on a Friday to help fix our dishwasher, and suggested some great workshops for Amil to focus on his spirituality. She gave me the link to a farm tour happening today that I could check out to get more information. I am constantly impressed at how damn cool everyone in this town is.

 

So, now that the frustration is past... I’m curious—what gets you upset to the point of action? Do environmental problems (like people driving cars unnecessarily, or consistently “forgetting” to put recyclables in the recycling bin) get you enraged? And would actually screaming at people convince them of your passion and inspire them to make a change? Or is there another solution (like making a graph of the pollution they’re creating, and offering ways to change)? Or do social problems typically move you- like seeing a man begging for food on the side of the road? Or animal cruelty- like watching someone kick their dog. What moves you to action? And what action do you, or would you take?

Back from the wild

It has been two full weeks since I've returned to my new favorite city from a program in which I was fully immersed in the beauty of nature.
For 10 wonderful weeks I got to eat, sleep, and smell the things I believe in, that keep me going: community, nature, and personal growth through education and life skills.

The first night back, I busied myself with unpacking--settling back into a space that my partner had reinvented for himself for the last two months. I watched the sun set, then hesitated to turn on the lights... a luxury I hadn't had at my fingertips in weeks. As I waited for Amil to come home from work, I sat outside...and cried. I remembered coming back from my first over-night summer camp experience when I was probably 12. After the week-long camp had ended, my mom picked me up but dropped me off at the house and went back to work. I remember wandering from room to room hearing the echoes of laughter, feeling the warmth of the sun, and the tracing through the winding labyrinths of paths in my mind. Eventually I plopped on the couch and turned on the TV so I wouldn't be so alone-- and I cried.

If I had one word to describe my summer, it would be community. More than in other temporary jobs I have travelled through in the last 4 years, there is a strong sense of community at this little camp in Northwest New Mexico. Although I have met and left hundreds of people in my past jobs, I always had Amil to help me with the transition. He didn't always start at the same time, enabling me to get to know people with my own personality first, but when it came time to leave, we would always get in the car, or board the train toward our next adventure, with memories of our friends in our collective brains, waiting to be brought up again down the road.
Although he knows a lot of the people I worked with this summer, and he came out to visit a couple of times, I feel that I was able to create much stronger bonds this summer, for a variety of reasons. One reason might be that he wasn't with me, and my social attentions were spread farther. Another is that, as my third year with this company, I was able to spend more time getting to know the other people around and filling in the gaps of the little jobs that were left to be done. I really enjoyed this position.

But now that I'm back, I'm bracing myself for a busy fall season, but making time to reflect on the things I've learned and the habits that were reinforced this summer.
I have some great ideas for upcoming blogs, but I wanted to say Hello, and I'm back...so get ready. Also, I'm using a new blog server...we'll see how that goes.

I'll leave you with a little ditty I wrote mid-summer.

The Last

 

When was the last time you sung a song in front of others but along with them, with all the passion you have?

When was the last time you spoke your feelings and 40 people listened?

When was the last time you got so engrossed in a project that hours flew by without your noticing?

When was the last time you hiked up to your bed by moonlight or slept on the ground under a blanket of stars?

When was the last time you laughed so hard it hurts, and learned something about yourself in the same conversation?

When was the last time you had another being in your hands and examined it up close?

When was the last time the beauty of a landscape moved you to tears, or a hug from a friend came at just the right time?

or watched the sun rise and set in the same day?

These pleasures all occurred to me today, and are likely to happen again tomorrow.