Tag: new adventure

Balaclava

January 29th, 2020

Vocabulary is such a funny thing. It’s shaped by our experiences. It can be highly specialized based on where we live and the people we encounter. And it varies based on our context.

I grew up as the daughter of two teachers. So I knew about principals and professional development and recess and cafeterias and homework before most kids even thought about starting kindergarten. And because there was a catalpa tree in our backyard, I developed an early understanding of seasons and caterpillar life-cycles. And I learned about land development as I watched my neighborhood change while I grew up.

This was my experience and my context.

But at age 29, I struggle to call a “balaclava” by its proper name…instead of “baklava.”

Every day, I am surrounded by tiny human beings that have a strong command of snow-related language…and even the ability to maneuver on snow (I’ve fallen three times in the past week). I think that’s the thing that has surprised me the most in this new job. They don’t bat an eye at putting on 3 + layers of clothing to go romp around in snow.

And then as they romp, snow covered trees become school buses or space ships or rogue pirate ships preparing to land on a beach. They’ll spend 20 minutes hitting branches against a tree and then comparing their branches to see which one is larger. Empty milk crates become shields for baby bushes or parts of a train or steps to get on top of [insert taller object]. And when you ask them what they want to be when they grow up, someone is bound to say “ski racer.”

Of course – there are all of the typical preschool-aged problems. Initiating play. Not knowing how to express our feelings. Naptime (it might be the death of me). And today, I had to intervene between two toddlers when one of them decided to weaponize a plastic sled.

This is all part of the territory. And I will savor every chaotic, ice-cold moment that’s ahead in this newest adventure.
Putting together pieces

January 21st, 2020
Last night, I finished crocheting a blanket. Prior to now, I’ve made a few blankets…but this is my first to make from “granny squares.”

This blanket started in Maine, when my parents came to explore the northeast and peep at some leaves. Sitting in a quiet, coastal AirBnB…making a blanket seemed like the thing to do. On our next trip into town, I picked up some yarn and a hook.

That weekend, I started a pile of granny squares. Back in New Hampshire, I ran out of gray yarn. During a trip into Conway for some rock climbing, I persuaded my friends to stop at the store so that I could get some more yarn.
From Maine to New Hampshire to Montreal to Tennessee to Arkansas…and back to Vermont. With bouncing dogs and playful cats (not mine). In breweries and cabins. Sitting in noisy kitchens or on quiet couches with friends. This blanket has been with me for three months, slowly coming together. At any point in time, all I had to show for my work was a bag full of crochet squares.

This blanket – the squares – it all reminds me of my life. There are all of these random pieces, completely disconnected. And I just keep trying to find a way to put all of it together.

A passion for kids. A skill for teaching. A love of the outdoors. A constant need to do something different. A refusal to sit at a desk all day. A fear of settling.

All of that (and more) brought me to this new adventure…to Vermont…to teach in an outdoor preschool. It starts tomorrow and I am all sorts of terrified. I am overwhelmed at the prospect of trying something so far beyond what I’ve done in the past. But at the same time, I see how this fits right in with everything I’ve done up to this point.

And that makes me more excited than overwhelmed.
Being still

January 11th, 2020
This was not the plan.

Moving to Vermont and renting a room in a house with a couple of guys and a couple of cats.

Shopping for snowshoes and snowtires.

Going to work at an outdoor preschool.

Ten years ago, I planned to graduate college and teach in Missouri. Four years ago, I planned to move to North Carolina. One year ago, I planned to move to Arizona. Two months ago, I drove into Vermont for the first time in the midst of a minor snowstorm…and I literally booked an AirBnB on the way (while parked in a New Hampshire coffeeshop). Definitely didn’t expect to get a job and move back up here.
But here we are.

As I settle in, I’m trying to figure out what I “want” from this newest adventure.

The past six or so months have been spent wandering. And while I think I’m ready to be still for a minute, I’m a little worried that I’ll get antsy.

I’m living in a town where I can walk from one end to the other in about 20 minutes. Last week, I got a library card and did some work in the upstairs space that overlooked a snow-covered field. And I got breakfast in one of the small bakery/coffeeshops in town (not the best breakfast sandwich…but a solid effort).

I’ve wandered around the tiny town and found a near-by trail…frequented by cross-country skiers this time of year. I’ve done research into skis, snow shoes, and everything in between.

And now I’m itching for something new.

Between yoga this morning in the nearby “city” and the sourdough starter I’m trying to charm into existence, I’m sure I can keep myself busy.

But what if I can’t scratch the itch to wander?

This is an adventure in being still.

(Well…a little still. I have the Adirondacks to the west, the Whites to the east and the Green Mountains to the south. This might be okay.)
Three months

October 9th, 2019
It’s been three months since I left Nashville. Here’s a look at that time in numbers:
- ONE – 4000 footers I’ve hiked
- THREE – fires I’ve built
- FIVE – different outdoor education classes I’ve led
- SEVEN – bags of coffee I’ve been through
- EIGHT – states I’ve slept in
- NINE – kitchens in which I’ve baked (ten if we count the beach)
- NINETEEN – breweries I’ve visited
- TWENTY FIVE- students I’ve had in field groups
This past month, in particular, has been rather challenging. Although my life has looked more stable than the previous two months, there have been so many unknowns. My day to day life has slowly found a rhythm…that continually gets disrupted. The weather, my site location, the students in my group (or not being assigned a group for the week), other people feeling chatty/catty.

It’s been a struggle to find the things that keep me sane in the midst of this chaotic life. I get up early to drink coffee and knock out work for Corner to Corner. My weekends are spent hiking (alone). And I randomly take off to explore new corners of the property. When life is chaotic and full of unexpected twists and turns, it’s important to find those things that ground you – whether it’s people, systems or habits. This month has been full of opportunities to hone in on each of those. Yes – even the people.
How to survive the first week as an outdoor educator

September 22nd, 2019
- Accept that you will make mistakes
- Find reasons to laugh
- Drink lots of coffee
- Confiscate students’ bug spray
- Be prepared to throw plans to the wind
- Plan on not showering
- Wear comfortable shoes
- Call for support when you need it
- Drink more coffee
- Optimize the time and tools that you have
This week was long. There was a “challenging” student in my field group (we spend anywhere from 5-9 hours with our field group each day). He and I butted heads a lot and there were times when the rest of the group got really fed up with his behavior. But at the end of the week, I was sad to see him go.

I come from a work environment where I saw the some of the same kids two to four times a week for three years. In this new world, I get them for a few days. So while I would LOVE to spend more time with that kiddo and learn more about his motivations and his hopes and his fears, I don’t get to do that.

And that’s hard.

Way harder than I thought it would be.

But I know that he’s going back to a school with teachers and staff that want to see him succeed. They spent the week communicating with me about his highs and lows, trying to find ways to make sure he stayed with our group. And, y’all, he did succeed…in more ways than one. He caught crickets and salamanders. He was a beast at the more physical team-building activities. And he got to be comic relief in our skit. And when he left, he gave me a high five with eye contact.

So, now I get to look forward to doing that again next week and the next and the next. And in between all of the weeks, I get to find rocks and trails.