*Warning, this is apt to be a long post due to my own negligence in maintaining this blog.*Just in case any of you are wondering, massage school is a beautiful thing. We practice on each other! Which means that odds are, I'll be having massage of some kind approximately three nights a week for the next several months.
In an effort, however, to learn "how to learn" again, I've been a bit of an internet recluse. I generally check my email, but have not been good about responding, and browse my regular blogs and then get off the computer. It has a bad habit of sucking me in.
School is wonderful and scary. We have a class of eight, which is impressive I've been told, for a night class. The biggest, and in some ways best, difference between this form of higher learning and the collegiate form is that we are all there for a common reason: to learn massage. What we intend to do with that knowledge may vary since there are so many areas in which we may focus - whether that may be in a spa, or gym, or in a physical therapy/ rehabilitation setting. A normal college class will have people that have to be there to get the credit and have no particular interest in the subject matter aside from learning enough to pass. Enthusiasm makes a huge difference.
Unfortunately, I've found myself to be a very annoying classmate. In same ways, I'll wager it's because I'm a bit socially starved, in others more due to the fact that I'm one of those insecure types that makes up for it with humor and chattiness. In any case, I talk to much, and even moreso, wisecrack entirely too much. I have enough experience in teaching to know how disruptive that can be. I may be comfortable with the material, but I may be hindering my classmates. Our class design is pretty relaxed, I don't want to abuse that.
So right now I'm working on thinking before I wisecrack, in tandem with only letting half the things I want to say actually come out of my mouth. Questions pertaining directly to the subject at hand do not count. I find that I do not have this problem when we are working on massage itself, but in the classroom setting. Come to think of it, I recall this habit in other classes I've taken (way back in high school). But only in certain ones - the classes when for whatever reason, I started to get pegged as "the smart one". Now there is another "smart one" in this class (no one, in my opinion, is lacking in intelligence at all, but you know how labels go), and I sit next to her, really like her, in fact. Anyway, it seems that, when I feel this label hovering over my head, I start buffering things with humor, all kinds of humor, to keep it from sticking. It's an odd kind of superimposed humility and scream to be liked, isn't it?
*sigh*
Another great thing about the massage field is that it's not something you learn and just go out and do. You have opportunity to constantly be learning. There are, I believe, continuing education requirements for licensing, as well. The act of learning has stimulated my brain and I don't feel quite as stagnant as I did a few weeks ago. Yay!
In other BIGBIG news, the kitchen is finally done! As is the siding, and the windows, and the hardwood flooring. Pictures will follow, but wow, what a relief to have it done. The house no longer looks like a haunted house up on the hill, and the kitchen is HUGE and gorgeous. I'm so happy with how it turned out. The before and after pictures will be amazing.
We're also getting ready for spring, we burned the huge pile of brush in the barn ruins a few weeks ago so that we can start putting more in. I'm perusing the Seeds of Change catalog for veggies, and we've already purchased some blackberry and raspberry bushes to go in -- possibly this weekend. We're not frost-free yet, but I can mulch them and tent them with plastic sheeting and they'll be fine. All the other briar-type plants around here will take over if we don't. In an effort to thwart said coup, Doug, myself, and two of my brothers hacked at about 75X25 feet of solid briars over the course of two weekends in order to clear the hillside going down to where the garden will be. The second (and hardest) weekend, the guys did it without me. There was all kinds of crap buried there = barbed wire, old flooring with the linoleum still on it, more barbed wire, golf balls, what looks to be old tractor parts, and God knows what else.
We did have a really big, as in REALLY big bonfire that night. Had the big idea of roasting hot dogs. We had to wait a bit for that. Finally Daryl figured out that you could belly crawl towards one of the more burnt-down areas if you wrapped you face in a hoodie and used a long stick. If we caught fire, we figured that we already had the first two steps of "Stop, Drop, and Roll" taken care of. Mmmm. Hot dogs.
So the brush is gone, and now we have two work on digging up the root systems, clearing out some more junk dumped two owners back. We figure if that hillside has done such a good job supporting brambles, then the raspberries should grown there really well. *grin*
Doug and I have invested in a pretty decent tiller which will be delivered some time soon, I hope. As many times as we are going to need it, the investment in purchasing one just seems financially logical. I hope to get the first till done within a week so that we can get some organics worked in and the first wave of weeks out before planting. By planting early we can also determine whether we'll be absolute failures at growning from seed and be able to purchase seedlings if we have to in late May.
The only awkward thing so far is that I have to learn to take better care of my hands, so I can't afford to be reckless, have to wear gloves for everything, etc. Not that I'm terribly reckless, it's just that I can't have any open wounds whatsoever, even cat scratches, or I have to massage in gloves which would be better to avoid. Aside from wounds, this also means that I need to be carefull about what work I do -- for example, no more grout since it does a number on your wrists. I can't say I'm altogether too upset about that. I feel like a pansy to have to limit myself to "protect my hands, wah!"
In the animal world, one of our recently gained chickens has been lost. The flock wasn't taking too well to her, so I'll stand firm in the belief that she packed her bag ran away. Doug and I combed the area and didn't see any evidence of "fowl" play so that's what we're sticking with. It's a shame, too, because she was of a breed that lays green eggs. The rest of the chickens are being quite productive and we've been giving away eggs left and right. I think I may pickle a batch of them soon.
Gigi, the Russian Blue kitty has finally be spayed. Hooray, no more midnight yodeling from her. Pierre, the rabbit, however has cost us another $150 in vet bills since he's been having weird poops. You have to watch their poops, apparently. And he had to have his belly/butt shaved because it got all cruddy with stool. He's the most expensive pet I've ever had, and it's getting frustrating. Fortunately, I absolutely love our vet and her whole office is this amazing place of happy energy.
Doug surmised that perhaps Collette got a little worried about watching the other two go to the vet. See, Pierre went in on Wed. and came back with a shaved butt. Gigi went in on Thursday and came back with a shaved belly/butt. On Friday, Collette was being exceptionally sweet and attentive as if to convince us that she really was fine and didn't need her butt shaved at all. :)
That's all the Barnhenge excitement I can think of so far, and I want to go play in the kitchen now.
