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An ordinary day.

In the Facebook age, there’s a phenomenon that occurs on one’s birthday that has created the awkward moment of wanting to accept each person’s well wishes, which one would do individually IRL, and feeling a little silly going to everyone’s page one at a time and saying the same thank you over and over.
In my case, my birthday was so delightful, and the sentiment from friends was so overwhelming, I need to express it with more than just a one-click effort.

The morning started with a skype call from my guy, on a business trip to Vegas, before the sun even came up.  Next was son Sam calling before he headed out on an all-day raft trip.  Then, my best study buddy and her wife call and serenade me with the Birthday song from 3000 miles away.  I’m not even out of bed and already the day is perfect.

Next is morning coffee, birthday coffee that arrived the day before from one of my brothers, and sunrise on the porch.  I know it’s freezing, but the view from the front porch of the sun coming up through the now bare tree branches across the pasture is compelling every time.  I get my fuzzy robe, a quilt, my coffee, and the dogs and I go out and watch the planet turn and bring the sun into view.  Waiting, waiting, and then finally, where just moments before you could just make out shapes and outlines, rays of sunshine so bright you can see them through your closed eyelids.  Another morning, another day to get to be here in this place and time.

Then it’s back into the office for a day of studying.  2L is coming to a close, finals are in December, so it’s wrapping up Constitutional Law, Criminal Procedure, Civil Procedure, and Real Property.  Another moment of gratitude for the chance to go to school, to have this academic challenge, to get to know all my classmates and professors, to explore this ever-fascinating field of law.  I keep my Facebook window open and watch the Happy Birthdays come in, each one a birthday present of friendship, each one a reminder of how so very fortunate I have been to know and love this fabulous person and this fabulous person and it goes on and on and on.  The phone call from first, brother, and then, mother and dad come through, along with the chit-chat of who they saw at church, and what they said, and what they had for lunch…the poignant, ubiquitous trivialities that today touch me as a indispensable connection to my hometown community and the family I still have there.

After study, it’s time for my present to me – a couple of hours out on the bike in the last of the fall’s pretty riding days.  The sky is as blue as I’ve ever seen it, the sun feels warm and delicious, even the shuffle setting I have on the iPod seems to be cooperating to create this perfect moment in time.  I’m singing along in my euphoria, not even caring that I have forgotten how one’s singing sounds when one has earbuds in, presuming one can carry a tune in the first place, when I realize I’m at a stoplight, and the passengers in the car next to me are enjoying the weather too, with windows rolled down.  As the light turns green and they roll past me, they give me a little applause and a laugh out the window, and because I don’t know what else to say, I shout “It’s my birthday!”, and I get a “Happy Birthday!” in return.  Child #4, twin B, is heard from, and we chat for moment, until I hear her chastise me like I’ve chastised her repeatedly:  Don’t talk on the cell phone while you’re riding your bike!

As the sun is setting, the beautiful inverse of the morning’s performance, with the brilliant rays getting lower and lower til they are no more, and the temperature drops instantaneously, I pull in to the restaurant where I’m meeting friends for a little celebratory brew and socializing.  We’re loud, obnoxious, and opinionated, a mix of men and women, young and old, secular and religious, and I’m enjoying the food and the beer and the company more than I can describe.  The Squeeze even makes it in from the Las Vegas trip, gifts in hand, in time for dinner and merriment.  We’ve instituted a phone rule for our get-togethers:  ringers on, 3 minutes to send whatever texts you need to prepare, then in a pile on the table they go, and the first one who responds buys the beer.  So I miss the call (you think I’m going to lose THAT deal?) from child #3, twin A, Glenda, but get the Birthday voicemail she leaves.

After much food, drink, laughter, and general carrying-on, the evening is over, I strap the bike to the car, and on the drive home I hear from the last child, who’s actually the first child, and his birthday message.  He tells me when his flight is getting in for Thanksgiving, and we talk about how excited we all are to be getting everyone together.

Finally it’s time to collapse into bed and catch up the way you do in a love affair when even hours apart is too long.  Cold night, flannel sheets, electric blankets set to Infinity, heat turned off, dogs across our feet.  Life is not just good.  It’s spectacular.

 

I know it was just an ordinary birthday.  I heard from old friends and new friends and Tennessee friends and out-of-state friends and old church friends and law school friends and young friends and not-so-young friends and every one meant something to me.  Some were just Facebook posts, but the relationships that those posts, and the phone calls, and the gathering, represent what makes up my world.  As they came in through the day, I spent a moment reflecting on friendships and how grateful I am to have this particular set of people in my life.  Hokey and cliche?  I’m good with that.

“For small creatures such as we, the vastness is bearable only though love.”   Carl Sagan

What a beautiful way to lead in to this season of Thanksgiving.

Thanks for reading.

1

The Virginia Chronicles

From Thursday at noon til Sunday at noon.  In that time, my son and I:  rafted the James, explored the art mural scene in Richmond on bike, climbed at the VCU climbing wall (my first experience), cycled to Jamestown (45 miles), explored Jamestown, cycled back to Richmond, ate at the fabulous 821(twice) AND mamazu’s, prepared a meal for our host family, and ate a meal prepared by our host family.  Oh, and did I mention the hurricane?  Or getting to see, from the window of the gate where I had just landed, Air Force One land and its de-planing passengers?  No?

DISCLAIMER:  This is not another swag post about my kid.  He just happens to have been the coordinator for all we did, and I can’t relate the adventures without telling that.    This trip was to have been a visit with him, and a chance to see where he lives and works in Richmond, Virginia.  If the splendor of Sam comes through, I can’t help that.

Son #2 is the assistant director of the Outdoor Program at Virginia Commonwealth University.  Back in the day (’78-’82 for me), these outdoor programs had a couple of backpacks to rent, maybe a bike to check out, and one or two trips per semester to a nearby state park.  No more.  Here’s a picture of the Center at VCU:

 

In the Fall 2012 semester alone, the program has taken 75 trips, has bikes (road and mountain), kayaks, paddle boards, climbing wall, backpacks, wetsuits available to students, conducts a student leadership program, has a staff of 40 students, and has its sights set on VCU Qatar , its sister campus, for a recreational trip during the 2013 school year.

Sam began this job in the fall of 2012, and I’ve been trying to get up to see him since then.  Regular readers of this blog know with my online law school, and my retired Delta-pilot-father, I take advantage of the pass travel with vigor.  When a weekend became available, I leapt at the chance to get this visit in.  With the patience and generosity of my ever-devoted partner/boyfriend to watch my high-maintenance dogs for the weekend, off I went.

When I boarded my flight in Atlanta for Richmond, an announcement was made that due to the arrival of the President in Richmond for a campaign event, there was a possibility that we might be delayed.  We arrived 7 minutes before the arrival of Air Force One, so I was able to see that occur from a great vantage point:

I missed seeing him in a hallway in a casino in Las Vegas in 2008 by seconds, so I was delighted to be seeing him, even at this distance!  Minutes later, I saw my precious boy just past the security point and off to our adventures we went.

First stop:  Sam’s “office”, the Outdoor Adventure Center at Virginia Commonwealth University.  We had time to grab a quick bite at the 821, a funky little cafe 2 blocks from work.

In my defense, we shared this monstrosity

Then it was back to the office to pack up and head out for an afternoon rafting adventure on the James.  The water was way down, which bummed out the kayakers, but suited me fine as Sam and I tackled it R2ing (riverspeak for 2 in a raft).  It was so unusual to be whitewater rafting with a city skyline as the backdrop.  I’ve got no pics, since I don’t have a waterproof case for my phone – Sam took some, and I’ll try to go back and edit after he posts those shots.

After getting the obligatory drenching (he’s still my son, after all) we changed into dry clothes and met up with Sam’s boss, and roommate couple, and dear friends Joey and Lauren for a dinner at mammazu’s, a high-funk, fabulous, Italian eatery.  We feasted upon vegetable lasagna, eggplant parmesan, rockfish, crab, bread, and wine.  The food and the conversation were delightful and memorable.

This is it. Srsly.

Moving into Friday morning, Sam and I hopped the bikes to his local coffee shop where we had our java and java talk, one of my favorite parts of the whole weekend.  From there we headed back to the center where we set out for a day of sightseeing Hollywood cemetery and Richmond’s street mural art scene.

One of two US Presidents buried here. Also, one CSA President. You’ll have to Google to find out. Ever the teacher.

Then it was back to the climbing wall where there was a combination climbing contest/halloween party.  You can be sure that the group associated with outdoor adventure is going to come through with the costumes.  I went as a cyclist (which was convenient since that’s what I had on…).

Sushi!

Sam went as a banjo player from Tennessee

I knew it was coming.  A test of the commitment Pledge.  When my kids were little, before they reached adolescence and I lost all credibility with them, I promised that whatever they would let me participate in with them, I would, and the Pledge raised its head again this night.  I had avoided the climbing piece for a long time, not being particularly enamored of heights, and not being overly strong in my upper body, and my weight being up a little because I haven’t been training.  No allowances, however, so up I went.  I at least had on climbing shoes, and of course my own boy at the other end of my harness.  I’m not sure where the fear comes from, because my rational mind was aware that I was secure from falling.  Maybe because I didn’t want to disappoint my son?  Maybe because I didn’t want to wimp out because I wasn’t strong enough to do it?  Ultimately it didn’t matter, because I did make it straight to the top, and what a rush that was!

Then it was home to a feast prepared by the lovely Lauren, and fashion modeling by darling Mercks.

Saturday morning saw us up early, gearing up with the 10 students who joined in for the bike ride to Chickahominy Riverfront park, near Jamestown, VA.  We had a slight mechanical situation along the way…

freaky tire tumor

…but resolved that and then headed into historic Jamestown for a very quick tour.

Sam and Pocahontas
Captain Smith. He was too high for me to be obscene with…sorry to disappoint.

After a campground cookout, we hit the tent for a night of sleep hearing Sandy’s first rainfall on the nylon.  After a campground breakfast of bacon and eggs, we set out back for Richmond, pinched between the system coming from the southwest and Sandy bearing down from the southeast.  We made it back to Richmond without getting too wet, and were glad to get off the bikes and head to Little Mexico for a little cerveza and chips before dinner.

Back home, after the lovely meal Lauren made for us, Sam and I pitched in and made salad, vegetable soup, and cornbread for our family dinner.

Then, just like that, it was Monday, and time to head back home.  Out of Richmond.  In the middle of Sandy the hurricane.  Usually there are 10 or so flights between Richmond and Atlanta; on this day, at least 6 of them were cancelled.  All the remaining were oversold.  When this happens, there’s nothing to do but try or wait it out.  We opted to try, and through some series of fortunate events, I made it to Atlanta, then on home to Nashville.

So, 96 hours with Sammy, and as always, I’m richer for it.

Thanks for reading!

3

Glenda

So I’ve been out of town for several days, and my darling daughter came into town from Knoxville to watch my canines while I’m gone.

If you don’t have a person in your close circle who is an art major, you have missed one of the joys of life.  I did not know about this until I had one myself.

What follows is what greeted me upon my return home. My girl gave me a little heads-up that she had “left a few things for me”.  Indeed.

This is the bathroom.

Those little stickies on the mirror are communications she left for me.  Beside admonishing me to Clean My (makeup) Brushes, she left a 3-page instruction manual, complete with samples and drawings on how I should be wearing my makeup.

Note:  While I like to think of myself as hip and cutting-edge, in the eyes of my children I am still Mom.  I have Mom clothes and listen to Mom music and wear Mom makeup.  Instead of making me defensive, nothing could please me anymore than to been seen that way by these 4 people.  I will take the eyerolls and glances between them and the good-natured teasing any day of the week and twice on Sunday.

Here’s a closeup of some of the detail:

Second note:  I am fortunate that this girl is not only an art major but a professional performer as well, and knows a lot about these things she’s advised me about.  One of the things she has taught me to appreciate is strolling through a makeup department or makeup store while she gets me up-to-date on the latest trend or product.  As an animal -rights advocate, she knows which brands use animal testing and which do not.  She knows what performers use what brands, and what techniques to use to create a certain look.  This is so far out of my own wheelhouse it magnifies the experience exponentially.

She had told me that one of the things she had left for me was kind of a surprise gift.  I live in a very interesting 75-year-old home and I winced when she said it was a rather permanent addition to the house, but when I finally discovered it, I could not have been more pleased.

This is becoming a signature piece for her.  Here’s a print she did recently – it’s hard to tell from the photo, but it’s about 2’ x 3’.  I want to have a fabric print made of it.  She does occasionally put her pieces up for sale, so contact me if you’re interested.  (ooops – I’ll come back and add the photo – I don’t have it downloaded yet).

Edit:

Detail

I’ve blogged about her before here, along with my other honeys, (and here and here is some of their work) and they all accept it with good grace.  Everyone is madly in love with their children, as am I; madly, hopelessly, irretrievably, unconditionally in love with them.  I am profoundly and humbly grateful to them and for them.  They have become spectacular adult human beings, and when they metaphorically allow me to crawl into their cribs with them and hold them close, I want to freeze the universe and preserve the moment.

Thank you sweet girl for your help with the pooches…I love your beautiful self.

Thanks for reading!

5

Albuquerque, Part 2

Well, that took longer than I thought!

To continue, I’ve been in New Mexico with mom and dad for a few days.  They are motorhome caravanners, Airstream to be specific, and have been on a southwest caravan for a couple of months.  They began in Moab, Utah (after having done the Lewis and Clark caravan the 2 months before that) and are concluding on Sunday.  I flew to Albuquerque last Saturday to join them for a few days.

In part I I told about the Balloon Festival, which continued to be spectacular.  The motorhome was parked in a lot facing the lift0ff field, and every morning at sunrise there were hundreds of hot air balloons in various stages of ascension.  Breathtaking in scope and vision.  Truly.  And because of the nature of the event, one is free to walk among the aircraft, chatting with the pilots and chase crew as they filled and heated the balloons.

It’s the Hendrick’s Gin Balloon!

When I last blogged, we were on our way to the Pueblo Indian Culture Center, where we spent most of the morning learning about the 19 tribes.  It’s a beautiful center with a courtyard for showcasing the native dances, and both an ancient and contemporary museum of history.

From there we tried to find not 1, not 2, not 3, but 4 different restaurants for lunch.  We ended up at El Pinto’s restaurant, allegedly a favorite Bushie hangout (I managed to dodge the Republican vibe if that’s true) for their spectacular and spectacularly huge dishes.  We opted for enchiladas, quesadillas, and of course sopapillas with honey.

Then it was time for the caravan to move on, so off to Santa Fe we went.  Dinner the first night was at the Buffalo Thunder casino, along with a $10 credit, after the buffet, mom and dad hit the penny slots!  Wooohooo!!

Gambling away my inheritance, 1¢ at a time.

The next day took us to downtown Santa Fe, where we saw old churches, shops, restaurants, and street vendors.  Then, in a dash, all the way up to Taos, where we went to the Taos Pueblo (no photography) and then to the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge.

Then, to cap off a long day, before dinner we scouted out the Kit Carson Memorial Park where we found the grave we were looking for.  That may not sound like everyone’s idea of fun, but when you travel with dad, it’s mandatory.  It’s an historian thing.

Exciting, huh?

It was a quick 5 days, now it’s off to Anaheim with daughter Amy for another adventure.  She and squeeze Curtis are attending the National Recreation and Park Association Conference.  Ames graduates in December with an Outdoor Recreation degree from ETSU, and she’s hoping to make a few job contacts…next post will find me in daughterbliss!

Big shoutout to Glendy for dogsitting while I’m gone:

My human girl is not impressed with my canine girl.

Thanks for reading!

We the People

 

5

Albuquerque, part 1

And they are the source of my adventurous spirit.

My parents are on their 4th consecutive month of motor home caravaning of the summer.  They first did the Lewis and Clark caravan for the months of June and July.  To translate from RVspeak:  caravanning is a group of motorhomes, mostly retired folks, who plan and organize trips around the country, anywhere from 2 weeks to 3 months.  My parents have done over 35 of these trips over the last 20 years or so, including the Viking caravan up to New Brunswick, the Canadian trips – Polar Bear sightings included, Alaska, the Yucatan, Baja, numerous Civil War trips, and this one, the Southwest Adventure.  Dad serves as the historian on both the Lewis and Clark trips and the Civil War ones too.

Daughter Amy has a conference in California next week, and I’m going to join her for a few days of fun.  In the meantime, Mom and Dad knew the Balloon Festival was coming up and had been asking me to join them, so…

sweet mother

This festival is the premier festival in ballooning.  There are over 500 balloons, thousands of spectators, and is said to be the most photographed event in the world.  It’s a full 8 days, and there are activities all day every day.  The liftoff field is adjacent to the brand spanking new Balloon Museum, to which I willingly devoted 3 hours of my life today.  Did you know that during WWII Japan sent 10,000 balloon bombs toward the US, 1000 of which have been recovered, and some of which may still be in remote areas?

This morning we spent several hours, beginning predawn, watching what is known as a mass ascension.

trying to zoom with camera phone

First was the spectacular sunrise liftoff, then we enjoyed all the different balloons:

They have to call him Aaron, since “Elvis” is copyrighted

Made of awesome.
Wells Fargo

So here’s the deal…the RV is parked in a giant field with several hundred other motor homes (Mom calls it Bonnaroo for retirees), but no hookups – no electricity or water.  This isn’t too big of a problem normally for a self-contained motorhome, but generator curfew is coming up in 15 minutes, and I have a couple of hours of studying to do tonight, off my Mac battery, so I’m going to cut this post into two pieces, because there are so many good pictures I want to add.

Tomorrow is several hours at the Indian Pueblo Culture Center in the morning, then a turquoise museum in the afternoon, then another balloon event in the evening.

So til part 2….thanks for reading!

1

Moonlight Ride around Cade’s Cove

And following on the heels of the Warrior Dash…crazy, moonlight bicycle ride in Smoky Mountain National Park.

When Sam began college at UT in the fall of 2006, he began work at the UT Outdoor Program (UTOP).  I believe that it was through this group that I first heard about this ride.

Cade’s Cove is a beautiful plateau in the Smoky Mountains, protected on all sides by mountains, and according to the site, is one of the most visited place in the National Park.  On a pretty fall weekend, the loop is almost entirely filled with cars, creeping along looking at the flora and fauna.   Like most state parks, the road closes at dusk, and that’s when it gets interesting.  On a full moon, if you’re on a bicycle, you can see well enough to navigate, even without blinkies, on the 11-mile loop.  What.  A.  Rush.

Saturday night’s full moon was occasionally partially occluded by clouds, and sometimes diffused by a heavy fog that gave everything a kind of scary, surreal feeling.  There are old buildings along the road, and we stopped to see one of the old churches. It was here that we discovered Eliott’s flat tire.  While Amy and I were working to patch it, Eliott scared the poop out of Casey by tossing stones into the woods while Casey tried to figure out what it was.  We also got several packs of coyotes to answer back to our howls – pretty scary in the dark and moonlight.

The black bear sighting was the highlight.  We try not to use headlamps or white blinkies because you can see more if you let your eyes adjust and dilate to the moonlight, but after watching the large dark figure walk toward us across a field, we finally shown a light, and there he was.  We left in haste, with Casey beside me saying he didn’t have to outrun the bear, but just be able to outrun me.

We stopped at the working mill, and the other pioneer structure, seeing bats, and deer, hearing the coyotes, and straining for every bit of road definition out of the shadows of the moon.  We stopped at the part of the valley where you can hear an echo bounce back and forth across the ridge, and clapped and whistled and hooted until we needed to get back on the bikes and finish the loop.  We didn’t start riding until midnight, and between the flat tire and sightseeing, it was 3am when we got back.

I love this ride.  Going without a night’s sleep is a small price to pay for the memory of the experience.  It’s become one of my mental happy places to wander to when I need a refuge from stress and life drama.  The whisper of my tires on the road, the cool air on my face, the muted outlines of the fields and mountains, all come together to create a unique, unforgettable carpe nocturne event.  If you see me post that I’m making the trip again, ask to come along.

Oh, and my daughters and I are apparently 9 years old.

Everybody smile!
Stop clowning around, this one’s for real!
Seriously, y’all, I want a good picture of us!
…..and Eliott photobombs the last try…

Thanks for reading!

 

2

Warrior Dash 2012

Because it’s fun, that’s why.

Start here.

The pictures at this site are so much better than any I took, and there’s video too, so take a glance at that to get an idea of what this race is like.  TL; DR:  5k with obstacles.

I did this race last year for the first time, and just loved it.  It’s right up my alley – all fun and mud and games and mud and beer and mud.  Costumes are a big part of it too, so this year we spent all of 9 minutes pulling ours together.

Hat tip to Sam Jordan for Eliott’s:

Senior Chippendale
Yep, it’s an LBD.

I wish I’d taken a better picture of the fishnet stockings with the running shoes.  And ours weren’t even the best costumes there.  I didn’t take my phone onto the grounds because that’s the Mud Zone.  The site has some good shots; the best we saw were a Pebbles and BamBam couple, complete with clubs and hairbones.  We saw a team of Oompa-loompas, lots of tutus and vikings, and tutus on vikings.

The race started with a series of hills/ditches with mud that were easy, but the mucky mud at the bottom was a real shoe-eater.  Next came a commando crawl under barbed wire, but it was hands-and-knees height, so that just created muddy hands and knees.  Next, we had an over-under obstacle which wasn’t too bad – the “over” was a wall about 4 feet high, the under was barbed wire around 2 feet high.  I got a dress strap caught on one, but Eliott untangled me and off we went.  Then there was a series of webbing, kind of like boxing ring ropes (that’s a guess – I don’t believe I’ve even felt the strappy things around a boxing ring).

I’m sure these are out of sequence now, but somewhere along the way there was a field of tires, and junker cars laid end to end so it was hood/roof/trunk/hood/roof/trunk.  The trickiest one for me this year was the rope climb – kind of an A-shape that rose about 25 feet in the air.  One side was a ladder-type slant that you climbed down; the upside was a sandpaper-covered slope that you climbed by holding on to a rope.  The trick was not the climb up, nor the climb down, but the transition over the top.  I flattened out too soon, with my center of gravity on the rope side, and with no leverage for my legs, I was left with just powering over with upper body, like when you push up on the side of the pool to get out.

As you near the finish line, there were two jumps through fire (not kidding), then the final mud pit.  Mark Twain described the Mississippi River as:  “Too thick to drink, too thin to plow”.  Capt Clark (of Lewis and Clark) said:  The water we Drink, of the Common water of the missourie at this time, contains half a Comn Wine Glass of ooze or mud to every pint.  Yeah, that’s about what it was like.  Even a visit to the fireman’s hose after the race was over only took off the thick top layer.  It took 2 showers after that for the water to run clear.

The race organizers have cleverly designed the timing-chip-for-a-beer trade, and of course turkey legs and pork sandwiches were aplenty.  This race is pricey, plus a hefty $20 parking fee, but if you know that ahead of time, you can limit that by carpooling, and registering on time saves a bit too.  Wave starts are every 30 minutes all day long.

Nice and clean pre-race

I will go back and edit if our official race photos turn out – for now, this is the best I can do:

smelled as good as they look

See you at Dash 2013!

Thanks for reading!

2

What’s in a sunset?

I can’t start this post without beginning with a giant THANK YOU to my big brother for having given the last week to me.  I’m at his condo in Panama City Beach, 19th floor of the most beautiful resort setting EVER.  The only thing that is between me and the Gulf is the beautiful pool and patio.

I’ve gotten some fabulous studying done, eaten great food, played with the dogs on the beach, and seen some breathtaking sunsets.

Here’s one.
Here’s another.
Here’s the same one 15 minutes later.

x seven nights.

We’ve all seen them.  We’ve all stood there, in awe, trying to memorize the sight, the smell, the feel, the sounds, having a moment in the middle of a day where you want to not just stop time, but put 4 walls, a ceiling, and a floor around to sneak away to when you’re, well, not in that delicious bubble.

This experience I’m trying to relate has happened over and over and over in the past 5 years, and while I hope it doesn’t pass, I want to get it down in words in case it does.  It doesn’t show any signs of fading, and conversely seems to occur more and more often, with more and more vigor.

So many of these posts I write start with: “When I was a believer…”, and this one will too.  It’s one of the most crucial turning point of my life, one of those milestones that divides your life into Before and After.

Before discarding Christianity as my worldview,  I would see something as magnificent as a sunset, or a newborn, or a majestic mountain, and I would stop for a moment in gratitude and humility that God would have made that sunset/baby/mountain just exactly that way.  How wonderful that God would have put that sunset/baby/mountain together, in that fashion, in that place, to serve that purpose, and that I could see it and enjoy it and have my moment.  I remember it being emotional and moving and profound.  This was based on both my gratitude for getting to see this thing, but mostly it was the awe that God could have so easily have created it – in the blink of an eye, the sweep of his hand, a nod of his head.

Let me express what those moments are like as a non-theist.

I’ve been watching the sunset against the crashing of the waves of the Gulf on the white sands of the panhandle of Florida.  A storm system came through just as I arrived here, so there have been clouds across the sky at sunset.  As I watch the colors build, and the sun sink lower, and the blues of the ocean turn gray, and swimsuited children become dark silhouettes of joy and laughter, I am astonished into speechless and motionless wonder.

The probability of my tiny self of carbon in this place and time to be able to see what I’m seeing and hear what I’m hearing is beyond any mathematical comprehension.  To have had the life I’ve had to bring me to this place to see this sunset at this time stretches even the most vivid imagination.  My gratitude and humility to be here in the face of those odds are indescribable.

Dreamboat Neil deGrasse Tyson said this in his book Death by Black Hole

“While the Copernican principle comes with no guarantees that it will forever guide us to cosmic truths, it’s worked quite well so far: not only is Earth not in the center of the solar system, but the solar system is not in the center of the Milky Way galaxy, the Milky Way galaxy is not in the center of the universe, and it may come to pass that our universe is just one of many that comprise a multiverse. And in case you’re one of those people who thinks that the edge may be a special place, we are not at the edge of anything either.”

This universe was not designed with me in mind.  It wasn’t designed at all.  There is more beauty and magnificence in that truth than in any intent of any design.  That mountain is just that majestic, that infant is truly that perfect, and the sunset is simply that stunning (and if my geeky science friends bring to my attention that the pollutants in our atmosphere make for more beautiful sunsets,  I’m gonna end you).

So when you join me at my Tennessee cottage for sunset and cocktails, and I stop in the middle of my sentence because of the glory of the vision of the setting sun, you will know why.

Thanks for reading!

 

2

Recap of the recap

Good Friday morning!

Same disclaimer this time:  if you’re not a fellow law student, this post will be uninteresting and law-nerdy, but I again promise I’ll be back to my usual adventure-blogging, kid-bragging, right-bashing, food-porning self on my next post!

A friend commented on my last post, and I then tried to comment on the comment.  WordPress was rude enough to tell me that my comment was too long, so I had to resort to an entirely new post.  Thank you, WordPress, but I’LL decide when I’ve talked too much!

Here’s Kayla’s comment:

Gayle,

First off, congratulations!! Having sat there through that test, i know what a dragon it was to slay so i commend you for doing it on the first shot! And enjoy the free books in 3L ;) Secondly, thank you for taking the time to lay out how you succeeded! Since i, unfortunately was not successful, i really enjoy hearing how others made it work for them…i have two months to re-prepare and am working thru 2L now, so hearing that it can be done is inspirational. I know that your blog is aimed towards a general audience, so any more detailed advice you have for this next go around would be highly appreciated :) again, congrats! And keep rocking it out thru 2l and beyond!

Kayla evans

Kayla —

Thanks so much for your comment.  I’m happy to tell you anything I can about what worked for me.  I mentioned in the first blog that it’s limited to just that, and that I wouldn’t presume to tell anyone what might work for them.  My undergraduate degree is in education, and while there are some fundamentals about learning that are universal, our backgrounds and experiences all influence how we learn and retain information.

Here’s more detail about what happened with me.  About halfway through 1L, I was getting the usual 65’s, and while I accepted that that was an average grade, I didn’t seem to be improving, and Concord’s guidance was…you guessed it, “Keep working on IRAC”.

(I even joked, any time an essay was due back from being graded, about making a drinking game out of how many times they would say that!  It cheeses me off because I think that’s a technical skill that a) is relatively simple to pick up, and b) is simple to refine once you have the skill to properly analyze the fact pattern.  However, I’m the student and they are the professors, and as a couple of them read my blog, I’ll keep my commentary to a dull roar, and trust that the years and years that Concord and its professors have been teaching have allowed them to refine the teaching process to be as successful as possible.)

Anyway, because my progress seemed to be so flat, I researched some outside sources and found, with my study buddies, the Checklist-type program I mentioned in the blog.  It held appeal because of the endorsement of so many students, both in their school exams and on the FYLSE.  I committed to it, paid the money for the books and the program, and implemented this Checklist as a way to issue-spot the tests.  I used that system all the way through finals in December (I’m in the class that had 6 months between the final and the FYLSE), but as I began studying intensely for the test in February, I began to realize that memorizing a checklist and really, truly understanding the material were 2 vastly different things.

So I scratched the whole program and started redoing my outlines based on the Concord First lectures.  I rewrote rule statements and restructured all my outlines. I listened to the lecture over and over, and did assloads of MCQs (how much in an assload?  about 1500, I guess).  And then it got really weird, but if you know me at all, no big surprise.  My kids are grown and I live by myself, but fortunately I have an old golden retriever and a young bulldog, so I could always claim I was talking to them.  I would verbally, formally explain different topics, as if I was trying to get someone to understand who didn’t know anything about them (and neither of my dogs even has so much as an undergraduate degree, so they cooperated beautifully).  Something about trying to articulate, say, every aspect of an offer, for example, really made me have to have a deep and thorough understanding of what an offer is, and every exception and detail about it.  It was a technique I learned through years of teaching, both at the public school level and in my personal training practice.  If you don’t understand something well enough to explain it, you don’t understand it.  That one exercise immediately revealed the holes in my understanding about a topic, and while it was important to the essay writing, I think it was even more important with the MCQ’s because that’s where the real substantive testing takes place.

Primary dog, Boo, and auxiliary dog, Darwin

On the mechanical side, I also wrote out my rule statements, one subject at a sitting, about 2x a week in the month leading up to the test.  That was clearly a skill for the essay writing; those rule statements practically typed themselves by the time of the test.  I’m kind of a data junkie, so after writing them each time (using 90+ minutes in the beginning, <45 after a few times), I graded them (with red font – once a teacher, always a teacher) and wrote the number of major errors and minor errors on my dry-erase progress chart.  (Are you gaining a deeper understanding of why I live alone?)

My CDO. It’s like OCD, but the letters are in alphabetical order, as they should be.

As I said before, I did every quiz and every essay I could in CF, and listened to the lectures several times.  The last month I even listened to them as I was going to sleep at night, and would start another if I woke up and couldn’t sleep.  (Funny story about that, Kayla, that I’ll tell you sometime after a beer or two).  But I’ll repeat here that the number 1 thing that helped me the most was listening to Prof. Bracci debrief all the past FYLSX essays.  There were in module 28 of Concord First.  As I listened to them, I made little tickmarks by the issue on my outline that was tested in that essay (ask me if the tickmarks were color-coded).   The second most important thing was probably compressing my 2L modules so I could study only 1L in the 4 weeks leading up to the test.  The payoff for that was both during those 4 weeks, and then when I restarted 2L in July after the test and was right on schedule.

I know I’ll think of some more stuff – I’ll try to just inbox you if I do.  If you have any specific questions, just email or IM me or whatever social network works for you.  This was probably waaaaaaay more info than you asked for – maybe WordPress knew what it was talking about.

Good luck and let me know if I can help.  Insert not-helpful cliche here about how smart you are, and how hard the test is, and how everyone will be pulling for you, blahblahblah.  You are, it is, we will.  Get this done.

As always, thanks for reading.

 

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