Entry for June 29, 2006

I am compassionate.  She was crippled, that's true, but she was lonely and felt left out.  Not much effort on the part of peer or mentor and she shyly said so when it came up.  I was going to take the younger girls first, but there she was, lonely, stuck in a "not much happenin" space.  So I boldly went.  "Do you wanta learn to hunt spiders?"

She looked shocked.  "Sure."  So I gave her my headlamp and she shuffled her uneven gait into the darkness. 

The first few spiders were a bust.  I saw them, she didn't, until we got right on them and isolated them with a beam of light.  Let me insert that I'd already checked out the spider population around the cabins and they were very small  and nonpoisonous.  Finally, she thought she saw one and we found it together. 

Then I heard her say "There's one.  Wow it's really bright."  I looked and could see it even in her beam.  Not normal.  She was stumbling up the steep, dark hill with the eye in her focus.  I was tickled at first at her enthusiasm.  Then I thought, "What kind of spider has that big and bright an eye?"

Intelligence was barely kicking in when I reached her just as she said. "Oh it's a big spider!"  I'm staring at the beam of light thinking "Who takes a crippled city girl up a hill in the dark to hunt spiders anyway?  Oh heck! that's a tarantula."  To my defense, I don't think it was a poisonous tarantula.

She shuffled stumbled quickly down the hill and I feared that she was scared witless just shy of bedtime.  I took another younger camper out -the other direction.  The hunt was easy, the gait was smooth and the child excited about all the little bitty spiders, mesmerized by the tiny emerald eyes.

As we came back to grab another taker, I heard the older girl talking to  the other counselor.  Her voice was animated and her words came fast as she was describing how to find a spider with a headlamp and how to track it.  Then she told about the big spider and added quickly so as not to alarm the counselor, "But it was way up the hill so you don't have to worry."

I don't know if she had creepy crawly dreams, but I did see the light in her eyes.  Yeah, I saw the look my peer gave me, but I realized that for a moment in time, this girl felt normal.  I may do it again - on purpose.

Entry for June 26, 2006

Went to a camp for underpriviledged children.  It was a beautiful place except for the girls bathroom.  Actually, the bathroom had been redone recently and was nice except for the water in the floor.  The remodel had been designed to update so that it could be cleaned with a power sprayer.  However, the floor had no drains and bowled slightly in the middle so the water stood as a lake everywhere you had to stand for more than a passing step.  The girls complained and I checked it out and found squeegies and commenced trying to solve the dilema. 

No matter how much I squeegied, the lake was in place.  I checked the power nozzle and found a small leak, so I put it into a sink and squeegied again.  Snarling at the renewed lake, I flew off to my next task.  I didn't make it back to the bathrooms until about mid-night.  The next morning, the same:  I worked furiously and left it mildly moist but satisfactory only to hear the complaints of the girls through out the day.

Wednesday, I wandered in early and squeegied the lake again but my favorite stall filled back up quickly and as I made my way into the sink area, I noticed the water was back there as well.  I looked at the whole thing with frustration.  Then my frustration changed.  I turned off the hydrant that fed the spray hose.  Squeegied once more and left to do my real job at the camp.  Problem solved.

I couldn't gloat though.  I graduated from college suma cum laude and it took me three and a half days to turn off the water and put down the squeegie.  Shee!

Entry for June 17, 2006

While doing some late night watering to prepare my plants for an impending period of neglect, I found myself , thanks to a headlamp, enjoying a field of diamond like sparkles far greater than could be found in any jewelers shop.  Between the water droplets, the prolific spider population and the starry host above me, my mind went back to a simple, yet profound, truth I learned decades ago.  It needs remembering.

In college, I took an off campus ecology class.  Doing an assignment with flashlights pressed to our foreheads, (Duracel and Eveready hadn’t yet developed the cool headlamps we have now) we set out to find and record our observation of spiders.  To a query concerning how to tell if you were looking at a dew drop or a spider before you waded through the weeds, the instructor spoke what many of us, whose educational goal included more than the ability to put the big round ball through the hole in someone’s worn out, misplaced hammock, had already deduced. 

            If it’s moving, it’s a spider.  Dew drops don’t crawl. 

            Spiders’ complex eyes reflect green. Dew drops reflect white.

It’s amazing how simple the deep truths of life are.

Entry for June 15, 2006

I rose early this morning.  I walked up the hill to the swing I erected yesterday, sat down and said "aahh."  The morning was fresh and moist with not a cloud in the sky.  After 30 seconds of reflection, I remembered the chain.  Yeah, I looped the one side over both bars and that side only over one bar.  I stood up and fixed it and sat down again.  But when I looked up to see my handi-work, I saw that I'd not looped it the same, so I stood back up and fixed it again.  Sitting down, I wondered, is it level, it doesn't really seem level any more.  (This for a swing constructed of old trampoline parts on the side of a hill.)  I missed the morning sky show!

The swing is actually pretty cool.  It's one of those ideas that festered for a long time, went commentless from my husband and finally got the best of me.  I do that.  A normal swing frame would never work on the side of that hill.  Some how this works.  I knew it would.  Now the only thought is how will I keep the babies from jumping off the swing and rolling down the flowerbed on the steep side of the hill into the rocks and roses.   But I've planted grapes right down where they can get to them and lots of other not child friendly ideas.  So I guess it will work.

I weeded, I sorted, I fixed, I cleaned.  I hunted for the sets of child toys.  But I missed the sky show.  The roses have to be really strong and in my way before I smell them.   My granddaughter is screaming.  I guess that means breakfast is over.  Oh darn, I missed breakfast again.  Maybe if I wait long enough, the coffee will be so strong I have to smell it.

Entry for June 14, 2006

In time, we all find that we are what we were and we will be what we are.  In short the more we change the more we remain ourselves.  I'm still compulsive, visual, anal.  The more I try to fix me, the more compulsive, visual and anal I become.  I don't want to be fixed.  That sounds so terminal.  I want to become even at my age.

Mark Twain said "Those who don't have no distinct advantage over those who can't."  Somehow that speaks to me.

I move in a circle of people who are always starting anew.  It is the artist's way.  Therefore, I find the continuity of my characteristics comforting.  I don't want a pill or a counsellor to help me be different.  I'm different enough, thanks.