Carbon dating, of sorts

Had some online fun last night.

No, not that kind. :-)

My oldest discovered that Google Maps had updated their maps of our area. We used to be able to zoom in only far enough to see vague greenish fuzzy blobs for most of this area. Now, we can zoom in far enough to see a whole lot more.

So we embarked on a game, of sorts, to try to figure out WHEN the new pictures were taken. We have it narrowed down to sometime between March 4 and June 30, 2007.

We did this by looking for things that we know had changed, and that we know WHEN they changed.

That barn that burned? Not there in the picture, so it has to have been taken after that fire. The image shows the burned house of a couple of my students, so it has to have been after their fire, but before the house was demolished. The trailers we lived in after our fire ARE in the picture, so it has to have been before we moved back into our house.

Some people date by tree rings.
We apparently date by fire damage.

We tried looking at area construction- and there is plenty of that!- but we didn't know the dates of different parts of the construction process well enough to narrow things down any further.

Anyhow.

Try it.

Look at where you live, see how far you can zoom in, and see if you can find details that tell you when the picture was taken.

Dancing in the moonlight

Had the opportunity to spend some time a couple of nights ago, out in the night, with brisk winds and a beautiful full moon.

I love being out in a storm. Always have.

Of course these days, "being out in a storm" isn't always just to enjoy the feel of the dropping air pressure, the wind in my face, the sense of anticipation in the air.

Our first call a couple of nights ago was for a tree on wires, causing sparks.
Never found it.
Apparently, whatever it was that whoever saw, had corrected itself somehow before we got there.
Those who responded to the call stood out in the night for a while, enjoying it, and then headed back home for bed. Not everyone is sociable at 2:00am.

About the time I fell asleep, the pager went off again. This time, for our "sister company," the other company in our district, to go mutual aid to a neighboring town for what turned out to be a large barn fire. Not for us. We listened in on the scanner for a while, and then, back to bed.

About the time I fell asleep, the pager went off again, and, for the third time, I rolled over on my poor dog on my way out of bed.

Off we go again, for a tree down across the road.

Which it was. Large tree, for once. Covered in wild grapevines. And all the way across the road. This is going to take some time and effort.

So we parked the truck, and set out to mitigate the hazard. Hazard Mitigators 'Я Us.

Gear on? Check.
Chocked the truck. Check.
Set up the scene lights. Check.
Started the generator for the lights. Check.

While my partner went to get the chainsaw, I started to evaluate the tree, to see where we should start.

I took about two steps from the truck.

Looked up.

And now that we had the scene lights on, saw what we could not see in the shadows.

Power lines.
Going from a pole... to the ground.

A few feet in front of the truck.

We rapidly formulated a different plan. An orderly retreat, of sorts.

At this point, all we could do was get out of range and wait for NYSEG. Which we did.
For four hours.

Watched the trees swaying in the wind- gusts of 40-50mph.
Communed with the deer and chipmunks.
Saw the sun rise. Stood through a couple of brief rain showers, as light and delicate as the morning air.


And we got a good reminder of a thing or two, which I would like to share.

All guns are loaded.
All swords are sharp.
All dogs bite.
And all downed trees are on power lines.
(Either that, or they have an ectopic pregnancy, until proven differently.)(A little EMT humor.)

Look into the shadows.
Look up.
Whatever you do...
Check.

Off to a good- if crowded- start

Second class of a ten class series today.

Brand new students.
40-something of them.

That is a whole lotta people to fit into one class!

We're splitting them up next week, but for some of the introductory introductory stuff, it's good to have them all there and only have to go over stuff once. That way we know they all heard it, and they all heard it the same way.

It also gives me a chance to evaluate them, in order to make the best decision for splitting the group.

That was my task today.

41 students.
5 of whom have taken a class before, so I know who they are.

That leaves 36 names and faces to learn in a hurry.

Tried something today that I hadn't tried before- nametags.
The good thing about nametags is that I can keep associating name with face.
The bad thing is that a good, sweaty class does not bode well for stick-on nametags.


I had three primary goals for the class.

1. Safety. As always, the top priority.
2. Have one-on-one interactions with EVERY student, by name, at least half a dozen times each.
3. Get enough of a general idea of the group to be able to make the decision on how to split them.


Priority number one was covered.
Priority two as well.

Now for number 3: how to divide the group.

The question, of course, is how DO I make the decisions on how to split the group?

I look at a variety of things.

1. General body awareness level. How coordinated are they? Is this someone who is accustomed to physical activity, or not?
2. Level of focus and attention. Some of this is indicative of the level of interest, and some is a developmental issue.
3. Are there any kids who need to be in separate classes because they might become disruptive if left together?
4. Likewise, are there any who need to stay together? Siblings. Carpoolers. Best friends who want to take the class together.

For both three and four, it is important to watch interactions between students. Some combinations work very well together, they each encourage the other to excel, and some work the other way around, dragging each other down.

5. Age and gender. Not to discriminate, but because I like to have the classes maintain a balance, if possible. This is way down on the priority list, but if it's possible to keep a mixed group, I like to do that. This is different from most places where they try to group LIKE ages and genders.


Sometimes, with some classes, the split will be along skill level lines, but in an intro class, there are not different skill levels. Everyone is a beginner. In this specific class, all of the returning students first took the class over a year ago, and some of them, it has been several years, so there is no significant difference in skill level for those students. Difference in interest level, maybe.

6. Equipment needs. We have a limited number of certain sized weapons. We can't put all of the students who need those in the same group, or we won't have enough. So the eventual split needs to work with the equipment we have available. This is mostly a size issue. Sometimes works out to fit age/gender lines, but not necessarily.

7. Stated preferences of the students. We had a few specifically request to be at a certain time because of their schedules. As much as possible, we honor those requests. We would have to have a very good reason not to- and we don't have one.


So today I got to do one of the things I enjoy most about teaching.
I got to watch people come up against their lack of experience and knowledge in this particular field, and see what they did with that. Who keeps trying? Who starts to slack off? Who toughs everything out? Who is looking for a way to fake it? Who looks like they are enjoying the challenge? Who looks like they feel like they have just fallen off a cliff into hot lava?

It is ALWAYS interesting to watch the very beginning classes. Always.

Usually, there are a few who connect right away, who have found a spiritual home, and who really want to do this, who put in a huge amount of effort, pay attention, and start to self-correct early on. There were definitely some of those today.

There are usually some who are not developmentally ready to do this at any appreciable level of skill. As long as they are not being a danger to themselves or others, and they are getting enough out of it that they want to continue, that's fine. It will come. They will "get" what they are able to get. There's no hurry. These are usually the youngest boys- boys develop slower than girls, so we see some of that lag here. But it isn't always just that group.

There are usually some who appear to have come into the class thinking it would be easy, or expecting that they would just grab swords and start whacking at each other. These kids don't usually have a great time, and some of them will stop coming to class, usually because they don't want to do the work on footwork before being able to use the swords. Some will have their attitude adjusted, figure out the score, and do okay. Can't tell which will do which, and I'm not going to assume.

And then, usually the bulk of any class, there are those who want to do this, who find it difficult, and who aren't sure themselves exactly what to make of it yet. Everyone learns at their own pace, in this perhaps even more than in some things. Again, there is no hurry. And there is no way to hurry, either. The process of incorporating this new information takes the time it takes. These folks usually finish out the class, work very hard, and then have to decide whether they are interested enough to continue.

Our goal with the introductory series is to get them to that deciding place. To give them enough of a feel for what fencing is, for what it requires, and for what benefits it provides, that they can make a rational decision about how much effort and time they want to devote to it.

You don't have to SAY you love me...

I was thinking about love this morning.

Well... not exactly. I was thinking about how it is people know when they are loved. What makes someone FEEL loved?

There's an odd thing about that.

Everyone knows that "actions speak louder than words," right? Of course.

So why is it that so many people seem to need to hear those three words? Why do they need to be TOLD "I love you" for them to believe it?


I can tell you- as can many, many other people, I'm absolutely sure- that someone SAYING "I love you" doesn't necessarily mean squat. They can say it every day, for years, and still have it not mean a damned thing.

And yet...
how do you know if you are interpreting someone's behaviour accurately? How can you tell if what they DO means what you think it means?

Some behaviours are relatively easy to interpret, that's for sure. If someone beats the crap out of you, chances are pretty good that they don't "love" you. There are all sorts of other ways of treating people badly that are a really big clue that love is not the primary motivator.

So how do you account for people who stay in bad relationships, even abusive relationships, regardless of how they are treated? How many of them believe that the other person loves them? How many people believe that BECAUSE the person apologizes, and tells them that they love them?

And the flip side... what about when someone treats you well, or nicely? There are all sorts of possible positive behaviors, but I'll cut to the big one: If someone makes love to you, does that mean they love you? Ha! I'm betting we can all easily agree that that ain't necessarily so.

It's a quandary.

I think people often want to be told "I love you" because they somehow believe that it is EASIER to interpret those words accurately, than it is to interpret behaviour accurately. They want verbal confirmation of whatever actions they are experiencing, as if somehow, getting those to "match up" makes everything clear. They want that "missing piece" of intentional verbalization of feelings, in order to put it all together.

This would all be much simpler, of course, if people actually MEANT "I love you" when they say it, rather than the entire gamut of other things that are generally meant by those words, ranging from "I want to have sex with you and I think this is how I can get it" to "I'm afraid if you leave and I haven't said this, then if you die in a horrible accident I'm going to feel guilty for the rest of my life" to "this is what I'm supposed to feel, so I'll say I do."

It would also be much simpler if everyone agreed on what love itself MEANS, anyway.

Most people seem to think it means something along the lines of "Aren't you lucky! I have chosen YOU to be the person who meets ALL of my needs!"

I'm more of the "I really enjoy being around you, and I'd like to share some of myself with you, and do whatever I can to help you meet YOUR needs" persuasion.

At any rate, the very definition of love is not well established, nor agreed on.

So. Back to the beginning.

If someone acts like they care about you, there is often this nagging doubt (and sometimes it is accurate!) of the validity of the interpretation of such behaviour. So most people also want to be told. But if you are TOLD, then you can't be sure that it means what you think it means.

Most people default to wanting the words. Words seem to be so much more concrete, so much simpler, so much easier to grasp.

Wow.

That's mind boggling, what with the rampant misinterpretation of nearly everything ever said, about anything, whether such misinterpretation is intentional or not. And what about that "Actions speak louder..." thing?

Back to my question.

What makes someone FEEL loved? How can you know, for sure, how someone feels about you? How can you ever get off that edge of "maybe," of doubt, of having SOME evidence to support caring, loving feelings, but never enough to let down your guard?

I guess my real question is this:

Do people who have never loved and been betrayed not go through all this torturous questioning? Do they just believe, without hesitation, without doubt, without twisting themselves up into knots needing to be sure they are not, once again, misinterpreting or falling for bullshit? Are they able to give and receive love, whatever that is, without the crushing pressure of knowing exactly what it feels like to have that turn out to be a load of crap? Can they just hear the words, or be treated well, and feel loved?

And if so, is that a good thing? Or a dangerous thing?

The season is almost upon us

It was chilly today. Had to start the day out wearing a sweatshirt, for the first time in months.

Ah, fall. I had that cider and a doughnut, by the way, courtesy of the little country fair we went to last weekend.

When I was a kid, my memories of this time of year are mostly the beginning of school, and the shortening of available daylight. Had to come in earlier at night, and it was starting to cool down then, anyway, so coming inside wasn't such a bad thing. Reading books in the living room by lamplight, rather than up in a tree, by dappled sunlight.

When I reached the age of paying attention to things such as time and dates, other than birthdays and Christmas, I realized that September is the beginning of that oft-dreaded time, Holiday Season™.

So I thought I'd write a little about the season, as it is celebrated in our house.

Starting the second weekend of October, we have what WE call "Christmas," the Friends of the Library Book Sale. Ooh, baby. The mother of all book sales. A few years back, when I lived out in CA for a couple of years, we went to something called a library book sale there, and woe, the disappointment, the long faces and teary eyes, to walk in and find a couple of tables with a few books on them.

The Library Book Sale here is an Event. One that brings visitors from far and wide. People camp out the night before, even in the rain. I've even camped out. It is Christmas and Birthday, Great Pumpkin and Easter Beagle all rolled up into one. As it says on their website, the "number of items for sale usually exceeds 250,000."

And that's for each sale, now that it happens twice a year.

Plus, the prices start out quite reasonable, and get progressively cheaper every day of the sale, so on the last day, everything is a dime, and there's usually a lot of interesting stuff left. Most of my classic literature collection was purchased at ten cents per book.

The sale runs right into our next family celebration. We celebrate Thanksgiving on Canadian Thanksgiving, for a variety of reasons, not the least being it's when we're all here to celebrate it. A brilliant suggestion from a friend the first year we were faced with spending the american version not together as a family. Not nearly as stressful as trying to get everything together the same time as zillions of other people, for one thing. And closer to when things actually are harvested here. Not to mention, it avoids the whole pilgrim bullshit story.

After that comes the season that most people don't consider, and those who "celebrate it," rarely wish to do so again.

I'm talking about Chimney Fire Season.
In conjunction with Turning the Heat Back On Season.
And also, Kerosene Heater Accident Season.
Celebrated by a bunch of firefighters running around like mad, trying to keep up with it all.

Yes.
This was all a long-winded introduction to a Public Service Announcement.

Get your chimneys cleaned.
Have your furnace cleaned.
Don't postpone it.
Don't decide not to bother.

Change the batteries in your smoke detectors. Add a few more smoke detectors. The more, the merrier.
Get some good-sized fire extinguishers, learn how to use them, and mount them on your wall in an accessible location. I'm a big believer in bright red home decor.

Don't leave space heaters unattended, especially any kerosene heaters.
Make sure you have Carbon Monoxide alarms if you have any kind of source of combustion in your house. Fuel oil, kerosene, natural gas, propane, whether it's for heat or hot water, your dryer or your stove.

Let's get through this cooling down time of year, without any rapidly heating up occasions.

Then we can go on to discuss the rest of the holidays.

I'll even tell you about my family's four Major Holidays of the year:
November 1st, December 26th, Feb 15th, and the day after Easter.

Cheap Chocolate Days.

Now listen up...

I was catching up on a friend's blog the other day, written about her experience in Europe this past year. She spent her academic year in Switzerland.

One of the things she mentioned was about living somewhere that she did not speak the language.

She had to really listen to people to be able to follow conversations at all. And although she picked up the language fairly easily, there was still a period of time when she could not understand it quickly enough to be able to understand AND contribute her own thoughts to a conversation.

Among other things, this helped her learn the value of listening more than you speak.

It would be good if more people were to learn this.

We had the first classes today for a couple of the PE classes we teach. Brand new students.

It amazes me sometimes to watch the behavior of people in brand new situations. How some dive right in. Some hang back and observe for a while. And some seem not to notice that anything outside their experience is happening at all because they are absolutely unaware of their surroundings.

We spent an hour and a half setting the stage for the semester. Talked about safety rules, and about how nothing can be guaranteed safe, but we can make things as safe as possible. Talked about how we do that- by having very regimented classes, with everything done by the numbers. There is no improvising.

We talked about fighting, about how it's not possible to win a fight, only to survive. Talked about how one of the valuable lessons learned by boxing is that in a fight, you will always get hurt.

These classes are not for the lightweight, thin, modern fencing weapons. One is a longsword class; the other a rapier class. Much heavier. Much more dangerous. These are not weapons designed to poke a little hole- they are made to remove parts of someone's anatomy.

So how is it that after one of the classes, when asked if they had any questions, the first question asked was "When do we get to do real fighting?"

??!?

NEVER, if you're lucky. Do you get that? N-E-V-E-R. Never.

So what, exactly, happened? What was this guy thinking the entire class? Did he never get past "Oooooh! Swords!"?

These are students at arguably one of the best Universities in the country. IQs way above average.

But often, way too often, they don't listen.
They are in too much of a hurry. For what, I'm not sure. To prove themselves somehow? To have the last word? To make an impression?

Whatever it is, they would be well served to learn the lesson my friend learned overseas.

Listen.
Listen well.

And learn to tell the difference between reality and fantasy...

but that's a different story.

Two years

Saw this in the news today:

   A house fire in Summit, Illinois left three children dead and the mother
   in critical condition. Investigators believe the fire started in the living
   room of the two story wood frame dwelling.



Two years ago today, we had a house fire. It started at around noon, on a Sunday. We were watching TV in the living room when we noticed smoke coming up the stairwell.

We were able to get people and animals out of the house safely- although we had only about a minute or two to do so before the smoke was so thick you could not see. I was able to knock the fire down temporarily with a fire extinguisher, but was not able to get close enough to put the fire out.

Funny thing- fire is hot. Really hot. With an outdoor fire, like a campfire, the heat and smoke rise into the air, so most of it dissipates quickly. Not so much inside a house.

The fire department took about 7 minutes to get there. We live half a mile from the fire station, but it is all-volunteer, so the firefighters had to go TO the station first, and I knew that. I stood in the front yard listening to glass jars and picture frames in my house explode from the heat while waiting.

We had no idea at the time what an unusual situation we would have, where the fire was mostly contained to the room of origin. What they call a "good stop." The house filled with thick, black smoke, so much so that it ran down the walls in the back of my closet. The fire itself came up the stairs, and it spread outwards from the room where it started to the ceilings of the other rooms downstairs, but the fire department was able to control it before the temperature got hot enough to flashover.

It was amazing how rapidly our thoughts turned from intense concern over possibly losing our house and everything we owned, to realizing it's all just stuff.

We were fortunate. We had insurance. After living in hotels for a month, we lived in travel trailers in our yard for 9 months while our house was first mostly gutted and then rebuilt. We have been back in the house for 14 months now, and although we have yet to finish going through the boxes of salvaged stuff, we are very appreciative of being here.

My point is this:

We did the right things, in the right order, and we all made it out okay. There was a series of fortunate circumstances that made it possible for the fire to be controlled quickly, with minimal, albeit still considerable, damage.


It so easily could have gone another way.

Had it begun at night, or when we were not home, the story would have likely had a very, very different ending. I can't even think about it.


My heart aches for that family in Illinois this morning. We are so grateful, and very aware, that but for the grace of god, that might have been our fate.