Knitting at the Campfire

Hello everyone, and sorry for the late posting this week! I’ve just returned home from a sixteen-day multi-part adventure in which connectivity services were somewhat limited. Let me catch you up on some of the craziness.

On June 30th, my dad picked me up and drove me to Steamboat. I spent two days enjoying being lazy and hanging out on the porch, and then my brother gave me a very special birthday present. He took me backpacking in the Zirkel Wilderness Area north of Steamboat for two nights! This is especially nice of him because he carries all the heavy stuff for me. We hiked five miles in to Gilpin Lake and spent the first night there. We didn’t anticipate how much snow was left, that’s for sure! Our original plan was to continue past Gilpin to Gold Creek Lake and complete an 11.5 mile loop, but we decided climbing the snowfield between the Gilpin and the nearly 11,000 feet high ridge line with packs did not sound like a ton of fun. Instead we stayed both nights at Gilpin. Jeff even packed in a cupcake for me!

We packed out on July fourth, and returned home for some frantic showering, unpacking, and repacking. I was trading my backpacking set up for car camping stuff, which required just enough overlap and just enough difference to be really confusing! After dinner Jeff drove me down to his house and I slept on his floor before heading to the airport early on the morning of the fifth. I spent the next eight days in California, learning about the natural history, biology, and geology of Yosemite National Park. I also learned how to tie together citizen science, NGSS standards, growth mindset, outdoor lessons, and the 5E lesson planning model in fascinating new ways.

This was A LOT of adventuring, and also a lot of being really nerdy. Only at a teacher training will you find twenty-two adults laying on their bellies on a chunk of granite, exclaiming about the striations in the rock and other evidence of glaciation! It was tons of fun and I went through lots of sunscreen and pages in my notebook.

But the gist of my birthday goals was about balance. Where was my hobbit self?

Despite the overwhelming emphasis on adventurer and nerd these last two weeks, I made sure to tuck a ball of pink and purple and grey yarn into my duffle bag (right between my tent and my camp chair…). And in the evenings when people were roasting marshmallows for s’mores and getting out ukuleles, I pulled out my knitting.

I was impressed by the amount of conversation it generated, actually. Everyone wanted to know what I was making, which I expected. But the conversation didn’t end there. By sharing my own project, people wanted to tell me about their experiences with crochet or cross-stitch, or their favorite something that someone special had knitted for them. Lost of people agreed that it seemed meditative, and thought it was a cool thing to do for someone.

There were a lot of things I appreciated about knitting in this situation. It opened up conversation, which reflected to me that people were totally cool with my knitting. Often I get insecure about the hobbit parts of myself – what hard core adventurer knits? But no one else seemed to think it was weird at all. I also liked how it allowed me to be doing something with my hands and still participate in the conversation around me. It was a nice balance between having something I like to do and being social.

What exactly was I knitting? A baby blanket for a little girl named Macy. Her mom is one of my colleagues at Longmont High School, so this project has been in the back of my head for a while now. It’s a really simple pattern – I cast on 150 stitches on my size 9 circular needles. I knit garter stitch for the first ten rows, and then for the majority of the blanket I knit garter for the ten stitches on either end and stockinette stitch in the middle. I’ll finish this one with ten rows of garter. I like the garter stitch border because it prevents the stockinette from curling up so much! And I like simple patterns like this when I’m using a variegated yarn.

The blanket definitely smells like campfire smoke now, nor is it anywhere close to done. But I think I learned something valuable by sneaking in a couple of rows here and there; these things are more compatible than I could have expected. I don’t necessarily need big chunks of time to be an adventurer or a hobbit or a nerd. I can sprinkle them throughout.

This next week will be the longest stretch of time I’ll be in Boulder since graduation (five whole days!) so I hope to indulge my hobbit a little bit more. I’m enjoying the quiet of my house and the time to get some of those nagging adult things done (renewing my passport, for example). And then I’m off on a whole different adventure – I’m visiting some friends in New York City and Philadelphia before going to the Knowles summer meeting.

Your homework: When was the last time you mixed two seemingly contradictory things? If it’s been a while, try it out! What happens?

Hej då,

Jamie

 

Every Stitch

Today I’m writing from yet another state! I’m currently sitting outside of Penn Valley, California, at my friend Hannah’s childhood home. She grew up on a glorious five-acre property, with huge trees and vegetable gardens and a little orchard and chickens. This part of California is the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains, but it’s really different than the foothills in Colorado. At home, the the transition from flat to mountains is fairly abrupt. Here, I’m nestled into rolling hills of pine forests and farms. I think I found the Shire.

And when I found Hannah, I absolutely found a hobbit! Hannah grew up doing three-week backpacking trips with her family and close friends, packing all their extra food and supplies on horses. She wanders around barefoot almost all the time, and she bakes the best pumpkin butterscotch chocolate chip cookies you’ll ever have. We met in college in our leadership program, and I can easily say she’s one of my best girlfriends in the entire world. We’ve stayed up late giggling and singing, hiked and hugged trees and swam in rivers, and had some of the most honest conversations I’ve ever been a part of.

The first time I came to her home was for spring break during our freshman year of college. She took me cross country skiing to a cabin that some of her family friends built by hand (no power tools!), and then she took me on my very first backpacking trip at Point Reyes. I loved both of these adventures, but what I remember most about that trip was how included and loved I felt with her family. It’s been a happy place ever since in my memory.

This time, I’m back for Hannah’s wedding, and I could not be more honored and delighted and totally overwhelmed by how much love there was, not only at the ceremony last night, but as I’ve been here helping for the last several days. Hannah’s family is deeply intertwined in this community, and people demonstrated such an incredible amount of support, creating decorations and food and moving tables and chairs around in 100+ degree heat. I’ve been crashing at her house, and I’ve had so much fun painting signs and chopping veggies for appetizers at the rehearsal dinner, and carrying anything. I’ve met Hannah’s friends from all different parts of her life and reunited with some of our college friends. In the midst of everything, Hannah still carved out two hours to pick me up from the airport and to chat with me about my life and what we’ve been thinking about lately.

Another good example of the love here: Hannah and her (now husband!!!!!!!) Ben decided to opt for a less-traditional wedding theme and combine Star Wars and Lord of the Rings into a fantasy land of awesomeness. Everyone showed up in costume, including her grandfather in the Leia buns and dress. My costume experienced a bit of a setback when the green dress I wanted to be an elf archer didn’t come on time, so I rushed to grab a back up plan. What I ended up wearing consisted of my mom’s cowboy boots, Hannah’s sister’s socks, a brand new friend’s white tunic, Hannah’s dad’s bow and a pair of earrings I stole from Hannah herself years ago. Only my brown leggings, camisole, quiver and arm guards were actually mine! People gave freely and without thinking about it, and I wasn’t even the person of interest.

Yesterday, the day of the wedding, we all headed to the ranch where it was going to take place and set things up for several hours. At 11:30, we headed off grab lunch and go to one of Hannah’s favorite places: the Yuba river. After a (SUPER HOT) short hike, we jumped in the water for a bit and then ran back to the wedding site. Supposed to be back by two-thirty for celebrations starting at 4? Definitely arrived at 3:20. But Hannah has collected the kind of friends who a) will jump in a river and not worry about their hair and b) can totally handle getting ready for a wedding, in less than an hour, with only one bathroom between eleven girls. We had a blast braiding hair and gluing elf ears, and watching Hannah transform from hiking river girl to absolutely stunning bride. This is the kind of girly-ness I really do love.

The ceremony itself was beautiful and multi-part and incorporated lots of Jewish rituals (my knowledge of Yiddish had probably quadrupled in the last three days). I won’t try to explain it all, but I will tell you it was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever experienced. All the cliché things people say about weddings, the radiant bride, the crying mothers, the perfect light…all of it was true last night. I cried through both ceremonies and afterwards when I got to tell Hannah how much I loved her. I danced until I had blisters and laughed harder than I have in a very long time. And after we cleaned up, we all lost our heads a bit and ended up paddling around in the pool on the property, most of us still in our dresses and costumes!

I like to write. I love stories and words. But how could I ever begin to explain how much my friendship with Hannah means to me? How could I describe how much I loved coming home with her and experiencing her community? How could I possibly capture this weekend?

I didn’t even try. At least, not in words.

A year ago, when Hannah called me to tell me she got engaged, I knit two nine inch by nine inch squares out of some left-over turquoise yarn in a basket weave pattern. And over the course of this last year, I’ve (very sporadically) worked on creating 46 more squares and sewing them together to create a blanket. There were months where I forgot about it, and a lot of frantic knitting and sewing in these last couple of weeks! (I actually finished it here, on the floor of Hannah’s guest room.)

When I knit, every stitch is a good wish, a thank you, and a promise. They’re little tiny good thoughts, but they add up. And I thought it was a nice metaphor for building a life together. It’s a series of small things.

And when I knit, I don’t do it in isolation. Mom taught me how to make cable patterns. Granny helped me lay out all the blocks so the colors were balanced. The whole thing is a work of love. And it’s a way for me to say it without fumbling around with words and clichés.

My friends are so incredibly important to me. Hannah’s given me more sunshine and support than I thought possible.

Your homework today is very similar to some other homework I’ve given before, but I think it’s worth doing twice. How do you show your people you love them? Try to find a way to demonstrate that this week!

Hej då,

Jamie

Summer Rest Days

It’s quite possible you’ve noticed a theme in my last couple of blog posts. I really, really like to be outside. I like to be in the sun, or in the water, and I like to get sweaty and dusty and tired. I’m really not picky about how this happens; I could be hiking or biking or backpacking or doing yoga on my porch or playing Frisbee with my brother. There’s a part of me that feels like any summer day that didn’t require sunscreen is a day wasted.

And so far, this has been glorious. In this past week I’ve been biking and hiking around Ogden, Utah, and I spent three days camping and hiking in Zion National Park. (I will 100% be writing an adventure post about that trip at a later date; it was incredible!) But today was one of those days where I just hit the wall.

Today I had the pleasure of enjoying a very lazy day of summer. I had a lazy breakfast, laid on the couch and called my dad for Father’s Day, knitted for a bit, read for a bit, and now I’m writing for you. I’m hiding my sunburn from the sun a little bit, and I’m letting my calves and hamstrings recover. I’ve also realized it is high time to do some laundry and reorganize and clean all my toys.

In short, I’m having a hobbit day.

In some ways, this is really hard! The sky is blue but it’s not too hot. I want to go explore a whole unknown trail complex at the base of the Wasatch mountain range. I want to find new flowers and ferns and creeks and butterflies (there are AMAZING butterflies here!), and feel that delicious tired feeling in my legs and ribcage. But this is the adventurer in me, and I’ve been indulging her quite lot lately.

Actually, now that I’m writing this, I’m realizing something else about how these three parts of me work together. (I love this aspect of writing. It helps me think about things I otherwise wouldn’t think about.) I’ve been rather out of balance for the last three weeks since I’ve been on summer break. I’ve been in almost full-on adventure mode, with only hints here and there of the nerd and hobbit.

I have spent a chunk of time working with a new biology book I’m piloting next year. I have read a novel that Mom lent me. I have been knitting. (Actually, I knit for almost two days straight last week. But that’s also a post for another time.) But almost every single day has involved some kind of outside adventure. So today’s hobbit rest day is long overdue.

I think that, in part, this is because I’ve been unbalanced for such a long time. This spring semester, I took on several projects outside of normal teaching, including presenting for the Howard Hughes Medical Institute at the National Science Teachers Association annual conference. These projects were huge honors to be a part of, and I learned so much from them. But I really do think I took on one (or three) too many projects, and I was in full-on nerd mode for way, way too long. I really lost my adventurer for most of the spring semester.

Being an adventurer is really important to me. It makes me feel strong. It brings me a lot of joy. Being outside makes me, and consequently my worries, feel smaller. It makes me feel connected to a living, changing world that’s much bigger than I am. Ignoring that part of me for such a long time means losing an important part of myself. But at the same time, being a nerd is really important to me. I get great satisfaction solving problems and being creative in my classroom. I deeply enjoy stories and understanding how the world around me works. I love asking questions and contemplating answers. Ignoring that part of me would also be doing myself a huge disservice.

So where does all of this thinking and reflecting lead me? To a new commitment. I want to be more aware of how I’m balancing these three parts of myself. I don’t want to lose the adventurer during the school year, or the nerd during the summer. These two parts of myself often seem like such opposites (high school stereotypes, anyone?) but I think they can inform each other in really beautiful days.

I also think I’ve been underserving the hobbit aspects of my personality. I think I’ve been using those things as “rest days” in between working hard on school or adventuring; the purpose has been to recover just enough to get back to it (whatever “it” happened to be). But that’s not why I knit, or bake, or play music. That’s not why I seek out quiet gatherings with the people I love. I knit because I love to knit. I like the colors and textures of the yarn, I like choosing the patterns, and I like watching a tangible thing grow out of a literal ball of string. This part of me is just as important in its own right, rather than in relationship to the adventurer and nerd.

Well, there you go. Just in writing this, I’ve changed my perspective on what I’m doing today. I certainly am not enjoying it any more or less (it’s been pretty glorious so far!) but my purpose has shifted somewhat. Today, rather than being a “rest day,” is about nurturing the hobbit-ness in me.

My homework for you: How do you rest? Why do you rest?

Hej då,

Jamie

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving to all of my American readers! And to all of you who may not be American, here’s the general definition of our holiday I gave to Henri, my friend from Paris:

“Thanksgiving is the holiday where I get to tell all my friends how amazing they are, spend a lot of time with my mom in the kitchen, and eat way too much food. These are all good things to do every once in a while.”

I absolutely love coming home for holidays. My mom, dad, brother and I are all very close, and I love hanging out with them. We usually have Thanksgiving with just the four of us, and it’s nice to catch up (and get the first ski runs in!) We sit in front of the fire place and argue with the cat for the best chair, watch football, get the Christmas tree, and for Mom and I, knit a lot. Sometimes I even get some of my schoolwork done.

This year Mom and I spent the first two days of break canning apple goods. A family friend had an apple tree go crazy this year, so we inherited 12 pounds of apples. We make apple butter almost every year, and this year we also made applesauce. (For anyone who’s curious about the recipes, we use Ball’s Blue Book. Ball also has an awesome online repository of recipes.)

Canning and preserving might seem like a lot of work or something that’s beyond you. If you go on the internet, a lot of recipes call for gadgets that most home cooks don’t have. But water bath canning (or heat canning) is remarkably simple. This kind of canning is good for anything acidic: fruit or anything pickled are good examples. When I can with my friends, I don’t have any of the special gadgets my mom does. Here’s what you need in order to can at home:

  1. Any giant pot. It has to be deep enough to have an inch of water above the top of the cans. I can’t use the big pint jars if I’m canning with my pot, so I just use the 8 oz jars instead. If I want to use pint jars, I come home and use Mom’s pot.
  2. Some craft wire. I coil mine into a spiral and put it at the bottom of the pan to raise the cans just a bit. Mom has a rack that fits her pot, but the craft wire works just as well and actually is shorter so you can use a smaller pot. The goal is to avoid having the jars directly on the bottom of the pan, because then the bubbles of water vapor can cause the jars to rattle and shatter. Yeah, I’ve done that. It’s a mess.
  3. A fork. There are really cool magnetic things that help you pick up the flats and rounds, but it is totally doable with a fork.
  4. Tongs. The bigger the better, and if they’re rubber that’s the best. There are special jar-grabbing tongs that are awesome, but with a steady hand you can use regular tongs too.
  5. The cans, rounds, and flats. This is probably something you will have to acquire, but most grocery stores carry them in the baking aisle. Make sure you have the flat part of the lid (the flats) and the round screw-on part of the lid (the rounds). The flats are the only things that aren’t reusable (so long as you don’t give all your jars away…)

My only pieces of advice beyond that: follow the recipe carefully, do it with friends, and be patient while you wait for the jars to seal. It’s so tempting to push on the flats so they make that popping sound, but don’t do it! Just don’t!

I love canning with my mom for a million reasons. It makes me feel like a character out of the Little House series. I like getting to spend time with Mom, chatting about this and that and everything. I love using our food mill; it was my great-grandmother’s and it makes me feel connected to my family history. Canning also makes me feel more connected with the earth, the seasons, and my food. I like knowing where my apples came from, and I like knowing that I’m living more in tune with when certain products are available. I’ll eat apples all year long, but preserving is a good reminder that we wouldn’t have apples all year if not for modern transport. And beyond all of that, I love how good the house smells for hours!

And in several months, I’ll still be eating and sharing the fruits of our labors. Earlier in fall, Mom and I typically can currant jelly, peach jam, and sometimes we experiment with other fruits. I’ve taught a handful of friends how to can; we like to make strawberry-lemon marmalade for PB&J sandwiches and blueberry jam for scones. There is nothing better, in my opinion, than opening a jar of golden peach jam in February when it’s dark and cold. Peach jam is summertime in a jar.

I’ve also been knitting this break! I’m working on a pair of yoga socks for my yoga teacher and friend, Maggie. These are by far the easiest socks anyone can make, because you skip the heel and the toe! I’m using a pink and purple and gray yarn, and I’m really pleased with how they came out.

For me, Thanksgiving is the perfect time to knit. (OK, let me be perfectly clear. Any time is a good time to knit. I’m addicted.) I’ve never actually knitted anything for myself; I’ve given all my projects to important people in my life. When I knit, I try to make every stitch a promise, a hope, and a wish for good things. It’s something I truly enjoy doing, and it’s a good way for me to tell someone how much I care about them without having to deal with all the awkwardness of actually conversing. Since I am so deeply grateful for the incredible people I have in my life, knitting over Thanksgiving break fits right into the mood.

I’m also giggling a bit to myself as I write this today because this post is a fabulous example of how different parts of me twist together in interesting ways. I love coming home (hobbit) in part because I get to go skiing and hiking through the woods to find a Christmas tree (adventurer). I spent all break knitting (old lady) yoga socks (adventurer again). Adventuring requires energy and bravery and spontaneity, while being an old-lady-hobbit is nourishing and rejuvenating. Perhaps they aren’t so unrelated after all.

Your homework for this week: how do you spend your breaks? Do you go on crazy adventures, cozy up at home, or some combination of the two? How do you feel connected to your most important people?

Happy Thanksgiving, my friends. Thank you for reading, for thinking, and in general for being good people. You make the world better, and that’s something to appreciate.

Hej då,

Jamie