Sofa with Elbow Patches

Gnarly paradox: synthetically treated crops feed the world and may have adverse effects.

Remember when you were a senior in college and the full-time job post graduation was the ultimate reward? My job offering came by way of the Agricultural Chemical industry aka Crop Protection Sector. A fantastic opportunity for my field; a Generalist role in a start-up environment with Global presence in the market place and a need for a green HR rookie with skills (me). However, since day one I've suffered from some internal conflict surrounding my choice to work in the AgChem industry. So, I asked questions. I talked to the sales guys, I engaged in conversation with the company President, spoke with senior level engineers internally, and last year I sat across the table from the corporate CEO and asked him how he defends himself at dinner parties when environmental scientists and lawyers ask, Why? "Why spray herbicides to kill the weeds and unwanted plants on farms?" "Why spray fungicides on strawberries instead of letting them ripen to their natural form?" I get the same answer from everyone internally - we help feed the world. Once I was told, "Do you think I would conscientiously commit myself to selling products that harmed my grandchildren?" "Have you seen the labels on 'organic pesticides'?"

Then I sought education. I attended lectures, read studies and paid attention when AgChem made the news. Turns out we spray weeds because the alternative is hand weeding and our society is above that. The labor involved for manually extracting all unwanted grasses and plants from a hundred acre farm is unfathomable and in today's market we want it all, all year round, so unless you or your family is willing to hand pick weeds that cross pollinate with your delicious fruits and vegetables trust the industry to do its proper due diligence and research before the regulatory agencies release the product for sale.

Turns out, organic farming requires twice as many inputs to produce the same yield. When I learned that tillage is more rampant in organic farming due to the low efficacy levels of organic pesticides and requires loads of extra diesel and gasoline for the farming equipment and produces tons of carbon emissions, it made me wonder if the general consumer was aware of that. Or if the woman sitting across from me on the Sierra Club bus was aware of that. Therefore lies my personal strife.

Outside of work I interact with pro-environmentalists everyday. All of whom, only know one side of the story. So in a life where I tout others about not caring about what other people think, why do I let the finger pointing of others, who I think are ill-informed make me rethink my decision to work in AgChem? I'll tell you why, because I want everyone to like me, approve of my actions, and think I'm cool. I know there are some friends that behind my back think I'm a hypocrite for working where I do and when I am being all green and earthy in my personal life. Well, hopefully my true friends understand my commitment to making a personal difference. Which is what I said to the woman on the bus, so frustrated with the world we live in, where by offering GMO seeds to third world countries we might be able to save an entire culture, village, or civilization. I told her, well in this world - one person's decisions can make a difference. I reminded her that building houses with Habitat with her bare hands and spending time with children that need positive role models in their life is what she is doing to make a difference and neutralize the impact that technology is having on our evolving planet. Technology is what has impacted our agriculture industry today: formulations, patents, ideas, machines, products, and process improvements.

For me - I eat in, shop second-hand, bike to town, walk around, and instead of throwing this couch in the landfill and getting a new one, I just apply a little patch and when I see it I'm reminded that I'm not giving into the disposable society that we now live in where families shop every weekend and fill their houses with stuff and buy houses with huge closets to store their stuff and get PODS to keep their stuff after they've bought it, used it once or twice, and need a place to keep it safe and then make sure to talk about their new stuff the next day at work after they emerge from their big ass suburban and remove the organic label from their apple and take a bite.

Spring - Pay it Forward: Fall - Giving Back

When it comes to volunteerism, I've used lots of excuses to avoid showing up. With the Boys & Girls Club: I said Friday afternoons were a bad time because I had just finished my work week and didn't want to rush anywhere after wards. It also interfered with an occasional happy hour or date. The real reason I stopped going every week to assist with the knitting class was because the children there were difficult. Their playful traits were gone. They talked to each other very disrespectfully and did the same to me. The once a week interactions weren't enough for me to build bonds and I had the hardest time remembering their names. The young girls talked over each other, yelled to get attention, and really really tried my patience. I just couldn't make the connection. So I stopped going. On a good day I would tell myself that even if I didn't feel like it had been a positive day maybe one of the girls got a take away from it, but I was never convinced. I didn't see immediate results in improving the girls attitudes or their knitting, so I bailed. Maybe the guilt can't be read in those sentences, but let me infuse some here [guilt].

After my trip to Wyoming this summer with the Sierra Club, I signed up to Volunteer with Raleigh's Sierra Club's Inner City Youth Outings program. A program designed for Sierra Club volunteers to take Inner-City youth on nature outings. Yesterday, was the second one. The first one went off without my even second guessing why I volunteered, but yesterday made me wonder. In just six short hours I got complaints about one girl spitting on another, talking gossip about another, hitting, punching, pushing, talking back, I got head shakin', yelling, screaming, and an overall fear of a local park. Anytime we encountered another person on the trail one girl would say very very loudly, "Are they going to hurt me? I'm scared." I was out of my element. These tall and mature looking 11 and 12 year olds didn't know how to cross a stream or follow a path. Several times the question, "Are we lost?" was asked. If these truly were children half that age, I might understand but gingerly tending to the fears of a 12 year old about walking on the greenway was just a little more than I could handle. Not to mention that every dog that walked past us they had to run to and scream at and pet. Most the owners were great about this but I kept thinking, "Just ignore the dog." Wow - my attitude doesn't reflect a very "giving" spirit does it? My recollection isn't very empathetic. Well, these kids weren't nice to each other and totally avoided listening for the majority of the day - they pushed all my buttons and by the time I got home and talked to my brother on the phone I was thinking I don't ever want children of my own. Then I remembered that my cousins, when they were young, were never like that. The children I spent time with yesterday don't get the attention and discipline that my family's parental units provided. I hope they are at least getting the love, but I even doubt that. I wanted to show some love but the best I could do was let them stroke my hair and put their arms around my waist and give me hugs. I tried not to let them get to me but realized I'm not trained for dealing with other people's children. Sometimes volunteering requires some training. Especially working with children of which I don't understand where they are coming from. These kids don't trust anyone. No one is their friend. Every one is their enemy, and they've been raised to believe that other people hurt other people.

We had story time yesterday, after doing the stream clean-up, where each kid created a story about a piece of trash they found. Three of the four stories were about a girl needing medicine, not getting medicine and dieing without it. Disturbing - I know but either they couldn't come up with anything on their own and just repeated the story from the girl before, or these children's lives lack love, creativity, and inspiration.

It appears that these children don't hold grudges, so by the time we got back to the car they'd forgotten all the "rules" I had to enforce and were my pals again just trying to con me out of some pocket change. The main point is that they are still children and before my next outing, I'm going to try and discover how to communicate with them better because at this stage all I can do is play with them and give them my time.

Traffic

Yesterday I went to my first NC State football game and it was exactly how I imagined but bigger. The tailgating reminded me being at a music festival but with less ganja smoke and the crowd, well let's just say it felt overwhelmingly homogeneous. Maybe it's because everyone wears red to support the Wolfpack or because of all the men, but for a crowd of that size the diversity was low. To be expected; NC State is a predominately math, science, and agriculture college and the games draw alumni and current students - cheers! let the bud light and miller light overflowth. I did enjoy my company for the game. I've been growing closer to my dear friend Martha and yesterday I got to meet her mom, her sister, and her best friend. Her best friend is a Traffic Engineer and a pleasure to be around. Maybe she could do something about all the imbeciles that take Harrison Avenue to 40E everyday between 5-6pm ?!?! Truly a pet peeve of mine is when drivers don't use the length of the access ramp. I'm not sure exactly but I think the access ramp from SAS campus' exit to 40 must be at least three football fields in length and everyday I get behind some dumbass that brakes after the first 20 yards. Usually by the time I get ahead and make my way to the end of the access lane and merge to my right and then look in my rear view mirror I will see yet another poorly trained driver making the same ace move and witness the traffic as it backs up and down Harrison. If a Traffic Engineer were to study this phenomena I'm sure they would agree that less than 30% of all drivers know how to use a damn access ramp.

Boobies

My friend KC is 30 and she has breast cancer. At the time when I found out I thought she was 34/36 but no, she's 30 and that's less than two years older than me. Every day on my way to the office I pass where we used to work together and for several months I thought about just popping in with a box of chocolates or a pretty bouquet, shit I know I thought about at least calling her house to ask how she was doing. *poof* A year passes or maybe two and during that time I never picked up the phone to see how KC and her two children were holding up nor did I stop by the old workplace to drop off flowers. But I thought about it, and luckily when I finally did see KC for the first time since her diagnosis she seemed to understand and said that it was OK. She also told me that the community opened its arms and embraced her and provided some hope for her family with prayers, visits, and generous cancer care baskets. I sat across from her at a bistro table as she renewed my faith in humanity. She told me about days when she was sick from the chemo and didn't have the strength to lift her child and a complete stranger would knock on the door and bring her a basket of teas because they read her name on a cancer patient list. KC was touched every time that happened no matter how many times kindness repeated itself and she was reminded that people cared. She told me this in a way that made me appreciate the good in people for a change when today's media constantly streams negative images of Americans and neighbors and co-workers and families and couples, KC experienced a dose of what we could all use - love. Love for the human race and love for living.

KC taught me many lessons as an instructor and as a woman. This time she did it without even trying.

you've made your bed, now lie in it

Learned an important lesson last night, now the challenge is applying it to my life. I can't say that I'm not disappointed but I can say that I'm grateful someone had the guts to stand up, look me in the eyes and say what I've been needing to hear. It doesn't change the fact that I feel the way I do or that I want the things I want, but it did give me some perspective about how those wants and needs are being communicated and received. Damn, it's going to be a long day - I hope this knot in my stomach relaxes.

For Two-Wheels: Buy-up

I didn't learn to ride a bike until I was twelve. I was one of the last in my Midway neighborhood on School Street. Leslie taught me how on a gravel rode in front of my house on her banana seat bike with noisemakers on the spokes and flowers on the seat. I remember when I got my first bike for Christmas; mom had saved for months and layed away a bike for me and one for my brother and was discussing the details of delivery to the back porch on Christmas Eve with her best friend, Teresa trying to be all cryptic in front of my brother and I, and then said "bikes" and her cover was blown. I remember her crying b/c she was so upset that she'd spoiled the surprise. We were old enough to know that Santa was a magical moment of our past. I can't recall what type of bike that was, but I rode the hell out of it. To and from the park, through the graded allies to Linda's and Dawn's and sometimes to Tasty Freeze.

I got a new Schwinn for my 19th birthday when I was living in Italy as a young military wife. It was part of a bundle-birthday-gift: a pair of blue diamond earrings, a watch, and a blue and gold bicycle. Everyone rode bikes in our small valley at the base of the Dolomiti Mountains. I saw grandmothers bike to the market and lean their bikes against the negozio del pane for the day's bread, a group of men parking bikes outside the fútbol stadiums, and children riding their bikes to the gelaterias. I wanted to replace my car for a bicycle, but didn't have the motivation. I only rode the back country roads for exercise, but I still have fond memories of the Schwinn.

The Schwinn was packed up and moved with us to Texas but arrived a couple months late, so I bought a Magna from Target to ride to my new job at Johnny Carino's. I would not recommend biking July/August down Bandera Road from Helotes to San Antonio, ever. This experience kinda burnished my biking experience in Texas.

Once in North Carolina, it took me several years but I broke out my old Magna bike the first time gasoline hit $4 a gallon and rode to work at the Pour House Music Hall. I passed a fellow donning a helmet and lights, waved and pedaled on. For the first year that I rode to downtown, the Tavern, and to NC State's campus for classes I might have seen half a dozen riders at large, but today the number has doubled if not tripled the variety of frames I see on the rode within my four mile bubble of Moore Square. I borrowed an older fixed tail Mountain Track from my aunt b/c the Schwinn got stolen from my front porch (fault of the owner not to secure it). The craigslist Trek that I got after wards, also got stolen within two weeks of the first. That time was not due to my negligence, this thief entered my basement for the pillaging. Pedaling the Trek Mountain Track 600 the five miles to class and back took major effort compared to zooming downtown on my 2008 Specialized Dolce. Buying-up when it comes to bicycles is the best thing you can do. If biking feels effortless then you enjoy it and want to do it more. If biking wears your ass out and the bike squeaks under the seat and the brakes scream when you come to a stop it's not as much fun as when you are one with your bike and forget you're even riding.

To be a biker though, you've got to ride. Ride and see the difference not having a roof over your head makes. Bike and show up to your destination flushed with wind blown hair. Bike and reduce your carbon footprint. Bike and see the sunset.

Sandy Campsites

Being there to see a friend get engaged to a man she loves that loves her for being awesome. Listening to the laughter and the schlobo songs. Drinking beer from a can and kissing on the lips. Bikinis and fishing rods and fires flickering with waves as the backdrop and moonlight basking all the happy faces of friends. One helluva way to spend a Saturday.

Tuckered Out

God's Thumbprint

Turn right at the post office (pictured here) and meander down the road towards the AT trailhead at Burkes Garden. Roughly 3.5 mi and one Garden Mountain later you'll arrive at Chestnut Ridge Shelter (pictured). Grassy meadows grace the ridge line on top of Garden Mt. and this weekend it displayed its true beauty - blooming wildflowers and dancing butterflies swayed in the summer breeze. It was hard to leave, but the path lead onward to Lick Creek and up and over Lynn Camp Mountain (9 mi). A hardy thunder storm rolled in and created a lullaby for sleep, and in the morning the rain lingered up and over Brushy Mountain to signify 12.2 miles complete.

My car gauge read 64º F as I emerged from the woods and back out into the center of "God's Thumbprint," surrounded by gleaming green pastures and happy cows. It read 94º F as I pulled into Edmund St. and back to reality. An escape awaits just 250 miles northwest of Raleighwood.

Christmas in July

My mom is the best. I'd been drooling over two Timbuk2 bags: XS messenger|Nightbird and another stowaway for airplane travel|Checkpoint. yay!

Today I quit Facebook

Why? The same reason I quit MySpace, I have no self control. When it comes to tooling around in other people's lives from the safety of my personal computer and unfortunately to my employer's demise work computer, it's just too much fun for me to ignore. So I have to give it up, no once a day doses or even a weekly status update. After some contemplation I don't think that social networking is enriching my life. The internet - yes, access to people's vacation photos and wedding albums - no. Because if that's a vacation spot that I want to be at or a wedding I wasn't invited to, then the emotion that erupts is envy because of that damn photo album on facebook and I could honestly do without any unprovoked envy in my life. I've started to notice that I'm not actively listening to friends anymore either. Because they're telling me about a trip they've been on and I've already seen the photos on facebook and I'm too ashamed to say I saw the photos on facebook and I'm thinking about my shame and how they never reference the fact that they just posted 100 photos on facebook that they know I probably saw because I post on facebook everyday. Facebook is just weird and its presence in my life is really not adding any value except perhaps making me feel less alone because I can peer into the lives of others and benchmark my life against theirs - again, also not healthy for me.

I'm going to use my old facebook time to research postgraduate programs, trip travel deals around the globe, civic services, community events, landscape architecture so I can help my friend with his garden, border collies because I have one, register for races because I want to kick some ass in a triathlon. Maybe I'll even spend some of that extra time reading a book instead of scrolling through the past hour of status udpates so I can see who is eating a corndog and who is at the gym. Oh, and that's the other thing - I want to be more productive at work and facebook fucking distracts me too much (see lack of self-control top). Hopefully it will also force me to take my own pictures instead of being tagged by friends and foster more creativity b/c facebook kind of thinks for me when it come to publishing my thoughts/preferences/ideas.

I think I want a simpler life, a smaller group of people knowing my status, and want more of my day back then the numerous hours logged on the facebook. So I'll update this blog for those that care and I'll create a google profile so if any old friends from my past google my name they can contact me, but I'm going to give up facebook, it's just not good for me.

Snow is purdy.

Being a mountain mama from West-by-god-Virginia, I am no stranger to snow, but in the past decade I revisit snow in my memories to keep the idea alive. It's been about two years now since I have seen any accumulation. The idea of snow covered ground actually kept me awake last night. I tossed and turned after a very fun day bowling with pals on MLK Remembrance Day, periodically pulling back the curtain to see if the white stuff was falling.

This morning my INBOX provided proof that if I felt unsafe to drive in the powder, that I did not have to drive in to work - yay! The fact that I could check my e-mail though tells that I have my work laptop at home - boo! So, some work will commence but not to the degree of accomplishment had I driven the ol' Hulk into the office today.

I wanted to be the first person making tracks in the snow, so I pulled on my galoshes and trekked up to the Oakwood Cemetery to snap some pics of the freshly fallen snow. The snow kept falling. By the time I turned to retreat home, my tracks were covered.

Once inside the cemetery I took refuge inside a mausoleum to adjust the hood of my sweatshirt and fashion a do-rage from the bandanna in my pocket to keep the wispy pieces of hair from freezing on my forehead. In the corner I saw a homeless person sleeping on the damp cold cement wrapped in cotton blanks, the snow blowing in from the openings on all four sides of the structure. Witnessing these moments of humanity make me grateful for the choices I have made that allow me to provide for myself and live in a comfortable warm home and gather with friends and family frequently.

It was a fabulous weekend and although I'm still a Professional Novice, I'm more professional today then I've ever been.

I'm glad I got to stay home today and watch the Inaugural Address for Barack Obama, I have never felt this way about our President before. I truly believe that he can move the people. Not that as a man he has all the answers, but I think as a leader he will lead us in the right direction. Something else to be grateful for today.