Chacos never felt this good!

Why must it be that tomorrow is Monday, and I have to go back to work?

Normally, I wouldn't complain after nearly two weeks of vacation time. Being an educator I've learned that complaining about work isn't usually a great idea, especially when I have so much embedded vacation time anyway. However, the last few weeks have been so nice that I dread tomorrow. "Why now?" Well, I'm glad you asked.

First, I had a wonderful time kicking back and going backpacking with a group of students and another teacher. For the last week of the trimester our school throws out the normal playbook and gets to the basics: Learning should be fun!



I drew up a scheme to take a handful of kids into the wild. I get to be outside for a few days, and they learn about Leave No Trace ethics. A win win situation in my book. Turns out, they actually liked it and learned something in the process. Amazing how that works.




















For week two, I had to do something a little more relaxing though since it was actual vacation time. I know, how about seeing the soon to be grandparents! So Emery and I loaded Fritz (our little Fit) with various elements of destruction and headed to Flagstaff.



( I know these pictures aren't of Flagstaff, but I only took a few shots during my bike ride in Sedona on Friday)


It was the first time we had seen Glo and Ron since we told them about Sesame (our little nickname for the fetal unit). It was awesome how big of a smile Glo shot me with as we entered her front door. Only two weeks before this they had been in Tucson, and Emery didn't get the word out about our little expectation til after they left! So there we were, showered with love from our family in the form of smiles and pancakes for the next several days.

The blissful serenity of the previous week is the current thorn in my side. Not because it hurt when it happened, but because the thought of the week going by so quickly and coming to an end sends a piercing sensation into my gut. Either that or the breakfast burrito isn't sitting well. At least now I can reflect happily on the whole onslaught of time off, bask in the reality that my grades I have to turn in tomorrow are complete, and that the continuing experience of expecting a newborn in May will keep the smiles and pancakes coming for months!

"You've gotta want it!"

As many folks have found out through the grapevine, I've added to my collection of two wheeled fun. A Diamondback Mission 3 has entered the bike harem in the Eaves household. Today was ride number two on trail, and one of my favorite trails at that. 50 Year trail up near Oro Valley has always given me challenges and flow, today being no exception. However, I am thoroughly impressed with how this bike handled the ups and downs. I was also impressed with how my buddy Adam handled the ups and downs. He rocked the spine that scares the living...well, just look at the photo and you'll see.

Oh, and by the way, Adam should work on his photography skills, because they aren't as sharp as his nun chuck skills!

This picture is worth a million thoughts, let alone words. Over 50 million to be exactish.

Wilderness vs. Wildness

Many times I find myself wanting to visit wilds places in the vast deserts of the Southwestern US. So I look up, using trustworthy ol' Google, where the wilderness areas are in my neck of the prickly woods. I tend to find only two options:

Numero Uno:

A national wilderness area that looks great on my little car atlas, but once there, I find the postcard views polluted with urban sprawl. These areas are directly adjacent to the urban centers of desert living, like Saguaro National Park (both East and West) or the Pusch Ridge area containing Sabino Canyon. The glow of the city casts its evil spotlight skyward and drowns out the glittery stars above.

Numero Dos:

The other option round these parts consist of beautifully remote wilderness areas, however conveniently blocked on all sides by private land. Access to these areas is often so difficult folks who rarely have more than a weekend for exploration (myself included) don't spend the time going through proper channels for permits and permission. Now, I cherish folks like Ed Abbey, who wouldn't allow something as simple as private land and no trespassing signs to hinder his progress into the desert he rightfully owns. However, I've made a place for myself as an educator, and a job so easily put in danger by being on the wrong side of a fence wreaks havoc on my otherwise nonchalant conscience.

Numero Tres:

I know I said that you usually find one of TWO options, but I suggest a third. I try to find places that may not necessarily be Wilderness, but are certainly more wild than some of those in option 1. The wild can exist in your own backyard if you don't clutter it with bermuda grass and oleander. It can jump out at you on a normal day hike in the Tucson Mountain Park (as in my experience with a rattler or two!) Or, you can find places not designated as wilderness, but no four-wheelers care to access, making them an oasis of wild near some sleepy town basking in the desert sun. Who knows, your neck of the woods may look like a concrete jungle that's as wild as any Walden Pond.

"In wildness is the preservation of the world" - Henry David Thoreau

Community= common + unity

In my life, I've had many instances of broken communication lines. I fought with my siblings, parents, and arch rivals at school (kind of like the unibrow baby in Simpsons). Either way, in each instance, someone was there to catch my mistake for me and guide me to a morally correct conclusion. Most of the time this happened I wasn't volunteering, but would go along with it. Why you ask? Good question.

Back to present. Kids can be so mean to one another without knowing it. Or they know it and don't care. So where do I fit into this? I can try to guide them with examples of respect and positive communication. I can catch them when they falter, and volunteer them to do the right thing, but everyone knows the saying about horses and water. Or at least seeing a man about a horse, or whatever.

I think I've found the link. Common unity, or community for short. I grew up with a strong community to embrace me when necessary, and show me the right track. Many of the kids I see today are losing that sense of community. Crisis fill our nightly news, and parents have less and less time to devote to building community. Now I'm ranting. I suppose I'm just pondering how to solve my dilemma, any suggestions?

Off Vacation, On Life

It's been quite some time since my fingers punched out the lines of a blog post, but once again the tingling feeling of words flowing into the void of internet floods my phalanges. I didn't decide to go on a blog vacation or anything, but I never felt like the world had slowed to a pace I wasn't just hanging in there with until this weekend.

A few little things have occurred since my last post from the Honduran islands. Just your average everyday things, like a new school year, starting the CSA, and a little shindig of a wedding. Oh yeah, I got married! (Even though its been over a month, it's still fun to say out loud.)

I was inspired by many of the beautiful things in life to start this blog, and it just so happens that one of those things is now my wife! Which brings me back to this weekend. We relaxed.

I had promised to take Emery camping, but the wind and rain rolled into Tucson on Saturday, and I had spent the morning dismantling furniture and rearranging rooms in our house. Emery cleared out most of the clutter, I moved stuff from one corner to another in an attempt to help, and now we're happier. So much happier in fact, that we went for a little picnic this morning. I'm sure she'll be blogging about the experience, so I'll save my reader base of 3 from the hassle of hearing about the details twice. But all in all, I feel as though life is back in order after the wedding rush, and fall has hit Tucson, and I'm settling back into life.

The beautiful things are still an inspiration, but also a goal. I plan on spending more time these next few months carefully observing how awesome the world around me can be. Friends, family, and those perfect strangers that work for something better than mediocre are on the horizon, a perfect sunset for me to chase.

The ferry must go on

More travelers arrive at our lighthouse. The ferry must've recently docked for the final time today. It's late afternoon and the sun is dancing in and out of the clouds, just as the wind dances through the trees and stilts below our hotel. Our hotel. Notice how I've already claimed ownership over not only our fabulous room, but the entire building. Our host, Thelma, has a kindness to her smile that allows one to drop their act, and listen intently to her advisory tales of island happenings. Some scare you, other get your heart pumping with excitement for the adventure that awaits. I just hope she doesn't tell Emery anything more about the ferry, or "floating shower curtain" as she refers to it.

The ride from La Ceiba to Utila was quite interesting. Emery wrote in her blog about how I felt it was better than any of the roller coasters or boat safaris in Disney World. But the horizon line dipping in and out of view through the curtain reminded me of being on Lake Meredith as a child on a windy day. My father is envious as I write this.

Though the water is choppy, and weather splotched with clouds, I feel that this is the island of paradise my dreams couldn't describe. They always contained the beaches and fish, but the realness of it all, the culture collision we contribute to, makes this a place of beauty words nor dreams can translate.

Exciting Times

I'm such a pansy at times.

Today I'm uber excited about my trip to Honduras, the plane leaves in less than an hour. We have our plane tickets to and from the country, but all else is in the hands of spontaneity. Somewhere within the void lies beaches, bus trips, and gourmet street vendor dinners.

This all differs from our last few days at Walt Disney World, an equally exciting time we've had. I felt the 'magic' of Disney infiltrate my subcortex as we took the magical express bus to our hotel Sunday night. With a conference as an excuse, we toured the resorts, pools, and boardwalks in our isolated paradise. We ventured into the theme parks nightly to ride coasters and boats, and eat overly priced junk food whilst watching the people saunter from one gift shop to the next. Being overwhelmed by the visual stimulus most of the time kept me satisfied, but the amazing fireworks at night would bring a dampness to my tear ducts that made Emery giggle.

But today, an escapee from the Disney compound, I am entertained by the blogarific internet once again. And what happens during my lust for outside knowledge? Jed the magnificent pops up in a little window on the screen screaming news of joy my way. Congratulations sir, this pansy almost shed a tear of excitement in response. If anyone else would like to see the news, I encourage you make your way to his blog, that is, if he has yet to pop up in a little window on your screen.

Lies and Procrastination

For once in my life, I'm on task and on schedule. Too bad though, because now I feel that others in my life are way behind.

I've been working at this middle school for the last year, often times scrambling to prepare for a lesson, field trip, or grade and hand back papers. I'm fairly transparent, so students and co-workers alike can tell when I procrastinate. I go through the list of stress related actions: drink copious amounts of coffee, get snippy with childish behavior, and make ten or so more copies of handouts than what I truly need. I make it through the day by the hair on my chinny chin chin.

But now, students are off on summer vacation. I contracted to work for several hours on curriculum, planning, and even running Cat5 internet cable through the building to my classroom. I've worked more than the hours I contracted for, and I'm still having a hard time completing all my tasks. I shoulder some of the responsibility, but most of it can be heaved atop the procrastination pile. There is a deadline for all of this, June 30th. So why is it that I was given this option and all of these tasks a month before? And I'm just mad, because I will be blamed if it is not finished by then.

I'm just ranting now, so stop reading, please. My head is exploding now. Really, just stop reading and I'll be okay in a day or so.

Sinfully Cool

Waking up to water plants and go for walks seems like a great idea, as long as its before 7a.m. Any later and you're ready for a nice cool coffin six feet under. Then I realize that I'm just a pansy about the heat.

I watched this film today by Michael Franti, "I know I'm not alone". As he flows in and out of the camera's view, his aura of peacefulness mixed with fear permeate the barriers that surround him. Soldiers, children, Arabs, Jews, widows, musicians, and grandmothers alike are greeted by him with an acoustic guitar and a desire to experience their lives. His visits with the people in Iraq, Israel, and Palestine are both uplifting and heart paralyzingly painful. The power blacks out mid interview at one point in the film, just as my newly installed air conditioner kicks on.

I know I'm not alone in this either. Thousands of people in my community, along with millions more in this region of the world, are enjoying a sinful coolness thanks to the ol' A and C. Moments such as this are a kick to the teeth for me. Years of self discipline and reflection on my actions as a member of a global community, and 86 minutes of video later I feel like a miserable glutton.

I plan to continue my quest for equality in life, but it starts with moderation. So today I'll take a few bits of knowledge from that video:

1. I know I'm not alone, in neither my conservation nor my consumption of resources.
2. All it takes is respect and love to hear another's voice.
and lastly,
3. Start now. If I procrastinate til later, as I often do, it'll be too late for someone else.

Maybe I'll even get up early tomorrow and do all the things that need to happen before leaving town next weekend. Just maybe.

A Gripe and Boast

I hate driving most of the time. I hate cars, period.

A radical change from the 17 year old Texan who grew up driving trucks into the river, but a logical one at that. I would attribute the change to a maturation and responsibility through time. Does this mean I'm no longer immature? Not at all. But I'm aware of the responsibility for myself and others when driving a car.

I recently heard that more people die in car accidents daily than the total number of deaths from lightning strikes, heart attack, plane crashes, elevator failures, cancer.....you get the idea, than any of that combined. Driving in Tucson, I find that easy to believe.

Even so, I love my car. Fritz the Fit. The small wonder that could has yet to fail me. Damn thing is new, so it best not fail me! I filled it with boxes of junk for school today. I got looks with all that stuff crammed inside, but I just smile back. And this weekend, a long drive to Flagstaff with no less than three people, a freeride bike, luggage, a tuxedo, more bike gear, and room to spare.

Bottom line, "cars are the Devil". On the other hand, triple digit weather and a desire to travel far quickly whilst hauling crap create a dilemma. My choice, Fritz.

Dog Days of Summer

I got my ass handed to me at "church" this morning.

A group of us rode Miligrosa Trail this morning, and the group was fast. I tried my best not to live up to an unmentionable nickname, so I was out the door and ready to go just after sunrise. Mentally I was as prepared as an astronaut. Physically I started the same. But after riding up a short section of hill (most people would call it a mountain), I realized that I'm out of shape and prone to heat exhaustion.

I love how the summer has almost crept up on me, because I enjoy it more if I just accept the heat and lazy days. If I had waited in vain for the last two months hoping to be done with school, I think I might have been disappointed with a weekend as unproductive as this to kick off summer fun.

Now I desire only one thing; to spend an evening hanging round in the air conditioning with Emery. Who knows, maybe my back patio area will finish itself in the next few hours and I can treat her to a sunset dinner out there. Sadly, I think the magic gnomes are affected by the sun just as I am.

The Mad Dash

"What are my chances of passing?", she asks with the look of fear in her blue eye shadow. I stifle the urge to say something quirky or even laugh, "You'll do great". The standard reply to a middle schooler in despair.

Fact is, she and many of her peers will probably do fine, or great. However, there are a handful that might not pass the rigorous portfolio presentations today. I'm surrounded by the full spectrum of ninos. The air pushes down on the shoulders of us basement dwelling learners, and segments of various songs escape the headphones scattered about the room. Music helps them relax. That and the ridiculous jokes that spew from my mouth. Any laughter helps, whether directed at the punchlines or myself.

Myself, I feel the tension, but also excitement. Seeing what these young'ins are capable of brings a feeling of joy. A majority of society sees one of these kids on the sidewalk after school and thinks about what graffitti scribbling, drug smoking, up-to-no-good deeds will be done by the punks. But they're human, and sometimes more in tune with what's just and fair than many of the adults in their lives. That's what makes days like this worthwhile, even the kids that struggle today will have accomplished more than many of those adults driving by.

I guess they have to earn their summer vacations one way or another...

Fortune Cookies Never Lie

Time is flying past like a family of spooked quail. Only a few days remain in the school year, friends are getting hitched, and vacations are a few short transits away. Last week I felt the pressure of all these tasks like a burden upon my shoulders. Today however, I'm encompassing all that finds itself upon the to-do list, because it can't be that bad.

Part of my recent paradigm shift comes from a fortune cookie. Yes, it can be that simple. However, it wasn't so much the fortune as it was the context in which the fortune was read.

Plagued by homework and projects around the house, last Thursday after school I was a mess. Despite my obvious apathy for the rest of the world, Emery wanted to hang out with me and not just some guy in the same room locked to a computer. So, as we occasionally do in times of desperation, we went out to eat. After deciding on Panda Express for all our quick but not as deceptively unhealthy food needs, I relaxed and took a break from the stresses of life. It worked, and by the time I had chowed down on some chow mein, my mental clarity was returning. Emery is such a great person to have in my life, and quite the dinning partner too. When we broke into our fortune cookies, I enjoyed how the words rolled off the tongue and into our laughter. "Saturday is a good day for completing chores", mine stated with a sense of sarcasm.

After that wonderful evening and learning how to laugh away some of the stress I'm facing, Emery and I enjoyed one of the most productive yet relaxing weekends together in quite a while. Amazing how your fortune cookies are usually right, but it's up to the reader to interpret it correctly.

=)

by the way.....

Happy Mother's Day!

Matt Foley is my friend

Planning, not my forte. I would rather wing it and look cool and spontaneous than put the effort into planning. This idea works well when first dating someone, traveling the globe, or channel surfing. However, I no longer do two of the three, and going to work is far from traveling the globe. So when I conjure up a last minute lesson plan for class, it shows.

I can see the confusion in my students' faces. I sense my heart palpatating with every word that struggles from my lips. Then, so as not to look like I'm unprepared, I tell the kids that I told them this last week but they must not have been listening. Hey, it works most of the time.

I thought about implementing the perpetual plan B for tomorrow as well, but then an apiration of a fat guy in a suit and glasses landed on my coffee table. Yes, it was none other than Matt Foley: Motivational Speaker Etrodinaire.

I'm not sure why, but the quick comedy sketch on SNL about an animated motivational speaker that even a crack addict couldn't look up to seems to do the trick. Maybe I feel that my apathy towards planning could lead to my students becoming the next generation of Foleys. Or worse, I'm halfway there! Either way, here's to my motivation and the other zaney Chris who died before his time.

Cinco de Meandering

Astounding as it may seem, I took the day off. It was a school holiday in actuality, so I don't mean I took the day off as in 'fake a sore throat and call in sick using my best Oscar the Grouch voice'. Usually my brain interprets a day off from my job as extra time to work on homework or projects around the house. But today was a break from all of that, even though I did complete a few task at home.

The morning was blissfully smooth. I dropped Emery off at work, then headed home to get started with my to-do list. Carry concrete from backyard to front. Done. Carry asobe bricks from front yard to back. Somewhat done. Then I realized, I hadn't even had breakfast.

After that, I lost interest in moving rocks back and forth, so I went shopping. I get lost in Home Depot, something about the space-time continuum is warped amidst those aisles. So instead I headed for the Ace hardware down the street. Upon entering I'm reminded that today is Cinco de Mayo by the cashier. Maybe I should be next door buying Corona? I had a mental list of items when I entered, but it's gone now. Maybe this aisle. Maybe the next. No, maybe the last one. Why am I here? Gloves, yes those were on the list. After the fifth employee asks me if I need help, I realize I've been here for over an hour.

Then I returned home and meandered around the house. What tasks can I do inside since the sun outside seems tortuous? I need to take the day off from working. Ah Ha! I'll play with bikes!

A few bites of lunch and bike tunings later, I'm bored. If I don't work on stuff, what do I do all alone here at home? I miss Emery. She calls. I'm so excited to pick her up. Once she's home we enjoy hanging out and being together. I guess only the morning was Cinco de Meandering, and this evening was a true day off.

Too bad I still have to work tomorrow. At least theres next weekend!

My friend informed me of this amazing video. These guys have either balls of steel or too much brain trauma!

Church... of Sorts

Another early morning, brisk air saturates my skin as I walk out the front door. Fill watering can, provide plants a drink, repeat. But today is different, I'm in no hurry as the sun separates from the horizon. It's Sunday.

I grew up in a fairly Christian home, but going to church every week proved mundane for me. Something about sitting on a hard wood pew surrounded by judgmental elderly women was far from appealing. But nowdays, I loosely consider myself an adult; free of most family expectations.

As I push my bike out onto the porch, I grab a sweatshirt this time. "Isn't it supposed to be hot today?", I ask the mechanical wonder in my hands. I enjoy the whispering breeze, chatty birds, and gentle clanking of tools making adjustments that are little more than meaningless.

What will the trails hold in store for me today? A smooth descent, a clean climb, or a rock to the spokes? Either way, whenever Adam shows up I'll be ready to roll.

This always happens. Adam is here and I'm still floundering. I can find no fewer than 3 gloves, but all the left hand. Water, check. Helmet, check. Camera, check. Emery and June are enjoying a play date, so we're off.

Adam turns up the tunes and pilots the Forester through traffic. We talk about how we should really be riding up the road to trail, but we both know we would rather not. Park, load up, head out. Tucson Mountain Park has the usual weekend visitors; hikers, bikers, and golfers that can't shoot straight.

I clean the first climb, a new experience for this pedal pusher. Adam trades me bikes at the top, and I reaffirm my faith in the Slayer after the descent. His red and shiny Yakuza felt too sluggish, yet supple.


We hike-a-bike through newly found trail. Potential, but rough as is. Next up is Hooligan's Hollow. Nothing like the smell of brakes in the morning! One can navigate the downs on this trail quickly if they have little regard for bodily injury. I prefer to ride the fence rather than my face down this one. Brake. Charge. Brake. Turn. Brake. Charge. Climb. Charge. Jump. Brake. Brake. Brake! Then you ride out the wash to jackhammer trail past overly perfumed hikers. Road back to car.



Adam descends Hooligan's
















Repeat this ritual as needed for mental clarity, sense of belonging in the world, or amazement. I don't foresee any indoor church experiences in my future, particularly when a cross is involved.