Life is grand, especially with fresh fruit and veggies. Last week I joined a Flagstaff food co-op. It’s funny; I drive an old Subaru and wait in the organic line Saturday mornings with hundreds of happy hippies sporting dreadlocks, dogs, and ear spools—quite a change from a few months ago. It’s quite possibly the largest gathering of reusable grocery bags and water bottles in the state.
The co-op sells $15 baskets on their website on Tuesday for the following Saturday, then the moderators go buy whatever is in-season from local produce auctions and divvy it up among the baskets. Everybody gets one basket of veggies and one basket of fruit. I got a dozen each of apples, pears, oranges, bananas, and grapefruit, along with a bunch of tomatoes, lettuce, cukes, zukes, carrots, and peppers. In Arizona, everything is always in-season. The last couple of days have been ecstasy, with premium citrus, bananas, and apples at my right hand throughout. I’m getting better at cooking and baked an excellent batch of bean, tofu, and zucchini enchiladas to last me a few days. While not a strict vegetarian, I often find myself going a week or more between meals with meat. It’s pretty easy to do in this community. Even my favorite cafe is all vegetarian.
Classes are going swimmingly, that is, they all kind of merge together and I don’t know what’s up or down. I had a terrifying nightmare the other night. I never share dreams, except when they make me think, which is about once every 10 years. Can’t remember the last one before this one…anyway, I was in Outlook (I spend nearly half of my waking hours there), trying to fit five calendars into one. It was the ultimate Rubik's cube; I kept rotating and shifting but nothing would line up. It was a long night of tossing, waiting for the sun to bring reality. Which wasn’t much of an improvement. Luckily there were fresh grapefruit waiting.
Last week film producer Spike Lee spoke on campus. He was interesting and has a lot of stories about growing up in Brooklyn and Atlanta. He is best known for his controversial films that highlight racial tensions, but he stayed on fairly neutral ground in spite of several in the audience who came loaded for Bush. Bush supporters and Republicans are not well thought-of in Flagstaff. So it was an interesting evening.
A preacher came to campus on Tuesday and stirred everybody up good and proper again. They stand outside the Union and preach hell and damnation to all who listen. Invariably there will be students there sporting licentious actions to prove him wrong. The preacher yells louder, the crowd commits blasphemy, more yelling, more blasphemy, then someone calls the cops, and preacher and crowd get sent home. This is the cycle.
Friday night I went to the neighbors’ across the quad for an evening of game playing—mostly karaoke, which is more fun for participants than spectators. Saturday was work all day at the furniture store, Sunday was homework like crazy. The last few weeks I’ve been able to run 10-12 miles each week, enough to start writing about it, so I spend a few minutes every other day enjoying the thin mountain air. I have micro chains to put on my shoes when the roads are icy or snowy, which is about one day a week. Then there are chains for the bike and chains for the car, which allow me to get out in any weather.
We have split into teams in most classes and are pushing to complete projects and presentations due in May. Imagine trying to fit the schedules of five 5-person teams together outside of class. It’s enough to give me a nightmare. Literally. The majority of today’s students—at least the responsible ones in upper level classes—have jobs that take up all of their spare time. Teamwork and collaboration time outside of class is extremely hard to arrange. Add to that regular job interviews and career fairs; it’s a pretty daunting undertaking.
I walk the maze of moments
But everywhere I turn to
Begins a new beginning
But never finds a finish
I walk to the horizon
And there I find another
It all seems so surprising
And then I find that I know
Anywhere is
The moon upon the ocean
Is swept around in motion
But without ever knowing
The reason for it's flowing
In motion on the ocean
The moon still keeps on moving
The waves still keep on waving
And I still keep on going
Anywhere is
I wonder if the stars sign
The life that is to be mine
And would they let their light shine
Enough for me to follow
I look up to the heavens
But night has clouded over
No spark of constellation
No Vela no Orion
The shells upon the warm sands
Have taken from their own lands
The echo of their story
But all I hear are low sounds
As pillow words are weaving
And willow waves are leaving
But should I be believing
That I am only dreaming
Anywhere is
To leave the thread of all time
And let it make a dark line
In hopes that I can still find
The way back to the moment
I took the turn and turned to
Begin a new beginning
Still looking for the answer
I cannot find the finish
It's either this or that way
It's one way or the other
It should be one direction
It could be on reflection
The turn I have just taken
The turn that I was making
I might be just beginning
I might be near the end.
-Enya