reflection

I’ve not written…not because I didn’t want to, but mainly because life has been very busy lately.  Busy, frustrating, and too much stuff swirling around in my head to think straight line enough for writing.  Two weeks ago, things got out of hand.  I abandoned all reasoning, loaded my kayak, and took me to the Little Sandy River to get away from the world.  Escape is a wondrous thing.  We’ve not had much rain this summer, so Sandy was very still (hardly any current at all) and muddy…like it always is.  It was a beautiful, hot summer late afternoon – blue sky, dragonflies, butterflies, herons, ducks, turtles, and lots of fish – just me and my world with nary a single human soul to interrupt during the whole adventure.  This time, cattle were standing in the river and laying in the shade of trees along the banks.  They ignored me for the most part.  Sometimes the silence clears the noise in my head.  Sometimes, I get lost in the reflections on the water...it’s good. 

wash-rinse-repeat

It was a lovely, wonderful weekend for KYLady.  There’ll be no gloom and doom in this blog post…OK, it’s going to be tough but I’ll try to remain cheerful and optimistic through the end of the last paragraph.

 

I took two hours of vacation Friday afternoon so that leaving work early for a round of golf was possible.  It was a beautiful day for golf – sunny and 80 degrees, and the course was not crowded.  Someone and I teed off at 3:45 PM and finished well before dark.  I had two birdies which always makes golf fun, even when a great shot is just pure luck.  Someone could not buy a tee shot and so was a bit whiney and sullen, but I didn’t let his foul mood interfere with my glorious afternoon in the sun. 

Saturday, Someone and I went to the Simon Kenton Festival in Old Washington, KY.  That was loads of fun.  The sky was completely clear when we left home, but by the time we arrived at Old Washington, it looked like rain.  In fact, it did rain lightly for a bit, but not enough to make things miserable.  We went to listen to Sarah sing, but the festival itself was wonderful.  Some people were dressed up as Indians and settlers, and I saw a couple of men wearing old revolutionary war uniforms.  All sorts of good-smelling food (barbecue) was being cooked and sold, and there was no scarcity of fair food.  Churches set up and were selling baked goods, and lots of crafters were selling things.  I bought a hummingbird feeder that I probably won’t hang outside until spring.  I think the hummingbirds have already left Kentucky for winter, but I’ll consult my expert friend who takes photos of hummers around her feeders as a hobby.  She will know.  Old Washington is a neat place.  It’s a historic district with old cabins and buildings from as long ago as the 1700s.  Up and down the main street, carriages pulled by a horse and oxen were giving people free rides. 

Oxen are BIG!

On Sunday, I slept in and then took my kayak out for an adventure.   After some research, I found Raccoon Creek ramp, about 7 miles upriver from my usual put-in place on the Little Sandy River.  To be honest, I almost talked myself out of going there.  I knew it would be isolated; that part of the county has high-crime, wildcats, and bears.  But sometimes, adventure is just what a person like me needs.  The ramp was completely deserted and I quickly learned why it’s not so popular.  The ramp is very short and steep, with giant ruts on both sides.  It’s really more suited for a small carry-in boat.  In fact, I decided to park at the top, put my kayak on a little cart, and pull it down to the water’s edge.

 

So based on the map, I thought I was putting my kayak into Raccoon creek.  I paddled what I thought was downstream (it was), thinking that around every next bend I would see the river.  Then I began wondering if I was paddling up the creek rather than down.  It was so windy that I couldn’t tell anything about the current.  Finally, it became obvious I was on the river.  When I returned to the ramp and paddled upriver a little way, I found Raccoon creek which was nearly dried up and not obvious.  Too bad the waterways are not marked with signs like roads are.  Then again, absence of civilization and the unknown adds to the adventure aspect. 

Somewhere on Little Sandy between Raccoon Creek Ramp and Dragonfly Adventures

  

The Little Sandy snakes through the hills, and there are lots of little and big creeks that feed into it.  It’s mostly farmland and woods on both sides, but also there are areas with small cottages and campsites.  The property along this river is most likely not expensive; it floods terribly in the spring.  All those campers and little ratty cottages are how us average folks live the good life – home away from home.  In my dreams...

So yes, the break from University #2 has been wonderful.  Someone and I met with my financial advisor last week.  He had many more questions, so I still have no answers.  We have more information to collect for him, so it’ll be a few more weeks yet.  The preliminary report is not optimistic, but we won’t go there per my promise to stay cheerful through the end of this post.  Meanwhile, I updated my CV again and will begin applying for more teaching jobs this week.  Rust never sleeps, and neither should I.

Uzumaki

Old KYLady does way too much whining, so she will try not to whine today.  Last Saturday, I got out and played golf on a gorgeous afternoon.  On Sunday morning, the kayak and me went out on the Little Sandy River for a new adventure.  Adventure is a very good remedy when things start to spiral.  Things have been spiraling lately…lots of things.  There are just too many things lately; my “thing limits” have been exceeded much too much too much in recent weeks.  Even two fun things over the weekend was not enough to slow the spiral, in fact, taking those hours off seem to have only contributed to the spiral.

I had never been on the Little Sandy, but I’ve driven over it more times than I can count.  Many times I’ve looked down from the bridge and thought about putting my kayak on it.  There is a boat ramp less than 15 minutes from home very near where the Little Sandy empties into the Ohio River; super-convenient.  Those first minutes on the river were not so pleasant.  The highway traffic is noisy (the marina is right off the highway).  As I paddled toward the bridge, lookout geese began honking to warn the others I was approaching.  Swallows came out of their mud nests built in neat rows under the bridge.  They dive-bombed me (I was grateful that none pooped on me) until I was well passed the bridge.  Under the bridge, geese were in the water all around me and also watching from high above as they stood all along the concrete pillars that support the bridge.  I looked up and felt very outnumbered.  Geese can be mean birds.  I wondered if they might come after me, like something from an Alfred Hitchcock movie (The Birds).  They all honked at me – their noise and the traffic noise was deafening. 

  

On the other side of the bridge, the shore was lined with camp sites of people sitting around playing loud music, some fishing, some drinking beer at 9 in the morning (but who am I to judge?).  Then on up the river, it got quiet and lovely, other than some debris from recent flooding and farmers plowing fields.  I paddled past a dock where a man was just pulling a giant fish out of the water.  He had no reel for the line – so he just pulled this big creature out hand-over-hand.  The river must be very deep there with all that line, but finally the fish was out and flopping around on his dock just in time for me to see it.  I saw several duck families and geese families along the way, and two blue heron which are beautiful and exotic (not as fancy as peacocks, but pretty awesome birds nonetheless).  On my trip back down the river, the man who caught the fish was now cooking it on his grill right there on the dock.  He called to me and asked me if I wanted to join him for breakfast.  Tempting, but I declined and thanked him.

Little Sandy River - mirror of tranquility

Some interesting things to see along the way...

  

The classes for my new job are up and running.  I’m already heavily involved.  It’s great so far, because I’m less like a teacher and more like a course facilitator whose job is to answer questions, grade papers, and keep things moving in the right direction.  I hit the ground running, but I wish there had been time for me to at least review the course materials for each of these three classes.  My students are writing papers already and I had to grade one last night without really knowing what the required reading contained.  I am very familiar with the topic of the paper, but I won’t be able to judge whether a student is relying on the assigned literature or free-balling it.  Regarding the paper I evaluated last night, hells yeah he was tots free-balling it.  His only reference was Wikipedia.  

Someone and I will attend Someone’s family’s annual beach vacation in June.  It’s not good timing for me, but I will take off work from my primary job and go to the beach with Someone.  I’m sure we will have fun but it’s a hassle to find a quiet place to work with so many people in one house.  My classes will still be going on so it won’t really be a full vacation from work.  Perhaps there never will be a full vacation from work again for me until I can retire from my primary job.  Someone gets so terribly excited about this vacation.  He is already packed and nagging me to start getting ready (even though we aren’t leaving for more than 4 weeks).  Besides, I have to make another trip to Louisiana for work before then…that’s on my mind much more than vacation.  The girls are not going with us; they will stay home and work, animal sit, and house sit.  I am grateful to have them stay behind so I don’t have to arrange for it.

Anyway, it’s very easy to get caught up into the spiral – the plethora of crap that there’s not enough time for – stuff I should do and want to do, stuff I should do and don’t want to do, stuff I have to do, stuff people expect me to do…lots of stuff.  I’m drowning in stuff.  It’s a lot of balls in the air.  I need more hands and eyeballs.