The Skeptical (Former)Librarian

Harvest is DONE and I am ALIVE.

2011-11-07T19:31:00.002-06:00

Doin' a jig on my rig!

Well, we made it!

Harvest began around Sept. 19th and we picked the last ear of corn in the last field on Oct. 25th. I've learned how to drive the combine and the tractor that pulls the auger wagon, and how to make the auger wagon vomit out its load of grain into the semi truck. There were a few breakdowns (once, the tire of the auger wagon came off! Turns out there wasn't enough air in them and it slid off under the weight of 80,000 lbs. of corn; so THAT was an adventure) and once, after a rain, the semi truck got stuck in a muddy field and I had to pull it out with a tractor. People, I pulled a semi. A SEMI. Like, those big things that roar past you on the highway. It was a harrowing experience.

But those stressful experiences were, luckily, very few and far between. The days were very long, but I was out in beautiful sunlight, learning new things and often singing along very loudly to my music, happily alone as I mowed down beans or corn. I saw tons of wildlife. It would seem, unsurprisingly, that all the animals of the field move to the last rows of corn when you're harvesting... and when you get to the end, everything runs off and you get to see deer, pheasants, rabbits, mice, and once I even saw a coyote! I couldn't help but hear Auntie Shrew's voice in my head. "Run! Run! It's mooooving daaaay!"

Right now, we're doing fall tillage (well not RIGHT now... right now, there's RAIN and that means days off!) but that's not nearly as stressful as the harvest can be. These days, I get in my tractor, which is hooked up to a chisel plow, turn on my music, set the GPS and let the tractor go. That's right; the tractor drives itself! You set it an A-B line to follow, and off it goes, up and down the field.

So I'm very happy to report, I like this farming gig and I think I'll stick with it for as long as I can. We've got our gear to set up beehives in the spring, so hopefully by next year I can start selling honey and related products, too. FUN.

Transform, and roll out!

2011-08-29T14:45:00.000-05:00

In late July, I left the library where I'd worked for 12 years, and began my journey to become a Farmer.

This isn't just out of the blue... my husband is a Farmer and for many years, he and his father have been a successful 2-man operation. However, his father is now 80 years old, and after a bout with lung cancer, can't quite do everything that needs to be done anymore. And, realistically, he can't be around forever. My husband has known for a while that he needs to find someone to help, since you really do need at least 2 people to do the job. So we'll become a husband-wife farm team!

My time at the library was drawing to a close, for multiple reasons I won't get into here. Needless to say, it was a stroke of luck for me that the timing happened the way it has; I needed a new job and my husband needed help.

I won't pretend that leaving a 'comfortable' job wasn't daunting. I got an M.S. in Library Science just so I could become a librarian; it's hard going from a job where you know everything in and out and upside down, to a job where you're pretty sure if you push the wrong button accidentally your legs might get cut off.

BUT, I like to think I'm up for the challenge. I was getting bored, and now I'm definitely not anymore! We won't really start harvesting our fields of corn and soybeans until mid-September, and that's really when my training will intensify too. Farming is definitely one of those things you learn by doing, not by sitting around talking about it.

So far though, I've driven this:

Big Red Tractor!

I don't know if you can tell from this picture or not, but those back wheels on this tractor are taller than me (5'2"). It is both very cool and very intimidating to drive something this TALL and with this much POWER. I have to say, the coolest part was learning to use the GPS feature though. We were mowing down some wickedly tall weeds in one of the corn fields, and this tractor can "map" where you've driven, and when you turn it around and engage the GPS, it will follow the line you drove before, all by itself. Seriously, I sat there and checked my email on my phone while it mowed its way through more weeds. TOO. COOL.

Next up, I'll be learning how to drive this:

Harvester Of Fear And Paaaaain!

It looks scary doesn't it?! Just imagine that monster bearing down on you. Those claw-things slide in between the stalks of corn, and it sucks up the whole plant, somehow magically taking the corn cob off and dismembering all the kernels, and spitting the rest of the plant out its rear end. How does it know which parts are corn and which aren't, you might ask. MAGIC, I say. Or the thing is an alien being, alive and sentient a la Transformers. That's pretty much what I'm going on, and I fully plan to say nice things to it when I attempt to drive it.

The BEST part of becoming a Farmer, though, are the downtime days. During the summer and winter, there's not too much for a farmer to do. So what have I been doing? Cooking! Making homemade ice cream! READING, oh gods, the time to read!! Enjoying NOT dreading Mondays! Exercising! Reading and more reading! Writing! And READING. There is so much more time for me to pursue other things as well... like learning how to knit, learning Spanish from my Rosetta Stone CDs (finally! I've only had them for two years now) and gardening, and next spring I'm going to try my hand at raising bees! Home-grown honey!

Life is very, very good. As long as I avoid the leg-cutting-off-button.

SO it's been a while...

2011-07-21T19:56:00.002-05:00

Big changes coming up soon - I'm quitting my job as a librarian and will be trying out my hand at farming along with my husband. Long story short; my husband and his father have been doing the farm thing together for years, but my father-in-law is getting older and slowing down. He's 80 and not in the greatest of health due to a bout with lung cancer and stress from his wife having an aggressive form of dementia. Essentially, the time has come for my husband to have to get some more help for the farm. That help will either be in the form of finding and training someone willing to do hard work for only a few months out of the year at a time (and taking the risk on how dependable that potential employee might be) or... ME.

I was recently promoted to manager of my department at the library, and I hated it. I already didn't feel much like a real librarian, doing essentially the same job as our copy cataloger (I have an MLS- she doesn't even have a college degree) but moving into management meant I wasn't doing ANYthing remotely like a Librarian does. And, let it be known that I said it first - I do not like people, and managing them is my idea of the ninth ring of hell.

So the time was ripe for me to find a new job... and since my husband so conveniently has a job opening, everything just fit into place. If this goes well, I will also be looking into starting an apiary and seeing where farming honey and beeswax takes us, too. Perhaps there's even a future for us in home-brewed mead.

I'm looking forward to getting out of what I see as a rather toxic workplace situation, and trying the freedom of being my own boss and being in charge of making my own money. Most of all, I'll be doing something that has an actual effect upon the world; I'll be able to see the fruits of my labors. Unlike wasting away in meetings, and telling reluctant people to just freakin' do their jobs and making decisions that make everyone mad at me, and feeling stressed and wondering what in the world I've spent my hours and days accomplishing, I'll be spending my days sweating happily under a glowing harvest sun, and spending comfortable winters tucked up with my husband knowing there's no place I have to go unless I want to.

Bliss!

Expectations.*

2010-12-17T09:48:00.001-06:00

My boss sighs heavily every time she passes by my desk.

I used to wonder what I was doing wrong. I'd look at my work and think, "Maybe I'm not going fast enough." So I'd work faster, trying to also maintain the same level of quality as well.

Still, the sighs. Time passed, and I started getting angry. I'd have a dialogue with her in my mind. "Dammit, if you've got something to say, SAY it." I would rant to my coworkers at how passive-aggressive she is. What does she want from me, anyway? I'm one of her best workers! They would agree - they had similar experiences with her.

There were days when I'd slack off after hearing one of these sighs. I'd think, fine. If working my ass off isn't enough for her, let's see how she likes it when I sit here and check my email and peruse Facebook. Let's see how she likes it when I spend work time writing blogs.

Sigh.

I've come to a shocking realization though. It happened when I was over by a coworker's desk, showing her how to add something to our online catalog. My boss walked past, and sighed heavily. Fed up, I stood and looked at her. "What?" I said. "This is work-related, we're not just chatting."

My boss blinked. "That's fine," she said. I could tell she was confused. So I said, "You sighed. Really loud. Like you meant for us to hear it." Even my coworker nodded in agreement.

Turns out, my boss doesn't even realize she breathes so hard. She's like Darth Vader, she just... breathes hard. Apparently. I'm cynical enough to wonder if she's just not wanting to be caught in her passive-aggressiveness; but if she's to be believed, all this time she's been entirely unaware of the non-verbal signals she's been sending out to everyone who works for her.

But the lesson learned is - expectations are often illusion. Here I was breaking my back thinking I wasn't living up to my boss's expectations. And then I turned angry at unrealistic expectations that were entirely in my own head.

And maybe my boss should go to a doctor about her breathing problems.

* In the interests of not getting fired for talking about work on a blog, all of the above is Fiction. No persons mentioned actually exist, including me.

Being Atheist in a workplace full of Christians.

2010-12-10T12:37:00.001-06:00

My coworkers think that I am actively trying to ruin their fun.

I'm not. Honest. I don't begrudge anyone their holiday festivities. I have nothing against those who want to indulge in their fantasy at work in addition to whatever rituals they pursue at home. Put up the tree, decorate your desk; heck, play the mind-numbing Christmas music, even. But, please, do not force me to participate. If you play the music, I will probably put on my headphones so I don't have to hear it. I'm not telling you to turn it off; I just don't want to listen to it.

My non-participation should never be viewed as an attempt to "bring you down." If the only way you can really enjoy your Christmas traditions is if EVERYONE participates, then maybe you should be re-evaluating what you're doing and why you're doing it.

One thing actually does bother me, though. Do not call me a "Grinch." I don't belittle you (to your face) for your silly traditions; there is no reason for name-calling when I'm only doing exactly what I always do every other day of the year. I work. That's what work is for. I enjoy my work. Just let me carry on doing it.

I am not a beautiful snowflake.

2010-11-12T21:55:00.000-06:00

Much like every other life form on this planet, especially at a molecular level, I'm just a bit of carbon going about and doing its daily thing. I intake oxygen and output carbon dioxide, and sometimes I even flake off bits of skin matter to add to the dust of the world. Hey, someone's gotta do it.

And like most other human-shaped life forms on this planet, I lie to myself a lot. I say things like, "Someday, I'm going to do something special." There are some people out there who are really good at doing special things; I'm not really one of them but I do admire those who can do the special things. And along with the other admirers, I also hate them a little bit (okay, a lot) for being able to do those special things so (seemingly) effortlessly.

Like writing stories. You pick up a random book and in a bookstore or a library and it's probably about sparkling vampires. And you think to yourself, sheesh, I could have written that. In fact, I'll bet I could write something better than that. (Better than sparkling vampires? Surely you jest.)

But see, you didn't write that story about sparkling vampires. Someone else did. They did the special thing which was to actually sit down and write that story. And then they went out and got it published. And if you really, truly understood what a monumentally, without-fathom-ly hard thing getting published is to do, then you'd have to very grudgingly admire that person. Because you haven't done it. You want to though.

Okay let's just cut to the chase and say it's me. I know, shocking, I'm talking about me. I want to write a story and I want to get it published. That's the special thing I long to do. And I do know how monumentally, without-fathom-ly hard it is to do that. So hard, in fact, that I haven't actually ever really tried to do it yet.

I can't even bring myself to clean my bathroom sink. And I can't forever fool myself into believing that I'm waiting to see if that green gunk growing near the drain is actually going to spawn new life form that will cure cancer and make us all effortlessly thin at the same time. Just waiting for special things to happen doesn't get them done.

Being afraid of failing doesn't make things happen, either. Knowing that it's hard is one thing; not doing something because you know it's hard is entirely another.

So what this little navel-gazing post is about: I participate in NaNoWriMo every November. I do it because it finally gets my butt into my chair and it gets me writing. No, the stories are never any good. And no, I don't expect any of the stories I bang out in 30 days to actually be what finally launches me into the realm of becoming a published writer. But what it DOES do, beyond get words on a blank screen, is it gets me at least one step closer to trying. Trying is not failing. Failing is to stop trying. Can I get a "Wow, that's really deep" all up in here? Yeah, I said it. Yo.

So off I go; to write my crap another night. I have hope, you know? I hear crap is really "in" these days. Sparkling vampires, man.

Until you speak, no one will hear you.

2010-11-02T09:30:00.001-05:00

I used to be an apatheic voter. In that, I wouldn't vote if I didn't think any of the issues affected me. "My voice won't be heard anyway, so why bother?" It's a lazy argument. Of course no one will hear me if I don't speak. I'm bringing about my own dire prediction.
I understand why people feel apathetic. It feels like your vote doesn't count sometimes. Sometimes, it's a choice between two corrupt candidates. But the way I see it; the very fact that I went out and voted counts. It doesn't matter in the end which boxes I've ticked (although it really does matter, sometimes!) but the fact that I'm counted as a person who cares matters.

I'm not sure how much more simplified I can make this. If you don't vote, you're telling the government that you don't care. Is that the message you really want to send? The glib response is, if you don't vote, you have no right to complain about the outcome.

It's your right to have a voice. Even if you don't feel like your vote matters, the very fact that you voted does. Go vote.

Just to hammer this home: this children's picture book came across my desk the other day. It's a simple story about the Smith sisters, in the time before women were allowed to vote. They had to fight just to keep their farm and their cows, even though they had no right to have a say in the unfair property taxes that were placed against them. It's the small stories like this that remind me why it's so important for me to exercise my right to vote. It does matter.
The Taxing Case of the Cows: A True Story About Suffrage

Skepticism Makes Me Laugh

2010-07-13T15:25:00.004-05:00

Now that I'm home after my first TAM (The Amaz!ng Meeting) I've got so much to think about. Someone likened it to a garden where we flourished and now we're seeds spread out into the world. That might be over-romanticizing it a bit, but the metaphor is surprisingly apt.

Before I ever called myself a skeptic, or an atheist, I tried on several kinds of schools of thought. I didn't like the whole church thing, but I did try out a "Are You There God, It's Me Margret" sort of relationship with The Big Guy In The Clouds. As a pre-teen without many close friends, the idea appealed to me, but it didn't last very long. I just couldn't believe in it, and I certainly never got any feeling that anyone was actually listening to my prepubescent woes.

Next came high school, with its usual self-importance and joy of contrariness. I was a big fan of fantasy fiction, and when I came across a book called "True Magick" by Amber K at the bookstore, I really thought I'd found something neat. I could call myself a REAL WITCH. Problem with this was, it felt even more silly than trying to talk to an imaginary man in the sky. There were even more imaginary friends involved, plus chanting and mixing things together. I did like mixing things together and burning things but I didn't really believe that doing so would allow that cute boy to finally fall in love with me. Perhaps I should have pursued Chemistry...

Anyway, I stuck with the whole "pagan" thing through college, just because it was fun to say and not actually because I was "practicing". I actually didn't like the other people I met who called themselves Wiccan or pagan. They were too.... touchy-feely? It was one woman who told me that I'd never be a "real woman" until I'd gone through childbirth that sealed the deal and made me turn my back against this so-called religion as well. They were no more inspiring than the Christians, and if anything they were more blind to the beauty of the real world and more susceptible to credulity.

By this time, I had met and talked to a few people who called themselves atheists. They tended to be very stuck up, nerdy, and far too serious. I didn't like them. All they liked to do was argue. Despite the fact that I didn't have any belief in gods or heaven or an afterlife, I felt no affinity to them whatsoever.

Fast-forward more years than I'd like to admit. Along comes Tim Minchin, a musical comedian with a penchant for telling the truth in his songs. He made me laugh, and think, all at the same time. He was saying things that I agreed with, and he said them in such a way that it was FUN to talk about. I'm not sure if he ever labels himself as either atheist or skeptic, but the topics he's interested in certainly support those schools of thought.

And then, I was in love. Skeptics with a sense of humor! Atheists who weren't all doom and gloom - but could feel joy in the beauty of the world! And best of all, scientists of all kinds who could show me the absolute awesomeness of the real, true, natural world all around us, and the infinitely amazing things that we know and don't yet know.

I just came back from TAM 8 in Las Vegas. I spent four days with these people telling me things, showing me things, making me laugh, and bringing tears to my eyes. There was a sense of true community, and even when someone said something that someone else didn't agree with, the arguments/discussions that evolved were building on something new and exciting, and not just tearing things down. Paul Provenza was there and read from his book "Sataristas" and had the whole audience in stitches. Laughing and learning!

(photo by DaveFayram)

And I think that was the thing I'm taking away from this experience - there ARE ways you can help people understand the world, even if you're not a comedian with musical ability, and even if you're not an evolutionary biologist with worldwide respect, and even if you're not an astronomer with a great sense of humor and a dexterous ability with words. If you can make someone smile, and think, and reason for themselves about even one little thing, then you've made a positive impact on the world.

It's a pirate's life for me. (Yo ho.)

2010-07-06T15:32:00.000-05:00

I'm teaching myself about pirates. And yes, in full disclosure, it's because Johnny Depp is hot and I love Captain Jack Sparrow. Actually, since I'm claiming "full disclosure" here, it actually started when I was very young, when I saw The Pirate Movie (based on the Gilbert & Sullivan musical Pirates of Penzance, but half as funny and ten times as cheesy, but gimmie a break, I was like 10 and I thought it was awesome. Watching it now is painful and funny in a whole different way- at that age I had NO IDEA about all the innuendos going on.) I insisted on dressing as a pirate for about 5 Halloweens in a row and I think I probably worried my parents a bit over that.

I think most people are aware that the "Pirate" in their heads is the Hollywood-ized, Disney-ized version of the rough-but-likable, flawed-heroic scallywag ruffian and probably isn't really entirely accurate as far as the real-life men (and women!) who were pirates and privateers in the early 1700's.

Right now I'm reading Republic of Pirates by Colin Woodard. It paints a realistic picture of the life and times during the days of piracy, and how and why such actions came about. Being a sailor was, in many cases, worse than being a beggar. Forced to serve on ships, given little to no food (and sometimes, no food was better than what they gave their men) and often not paid for their time served. Dangerous conditions; storms, battles, disease - not to mention the fact that many ship's captains were given permission to enforce discipline in any way they saw fit, short of murder.

It's no wonder then that groups of men got organized and created their own code of conduct - to raid merchant ships and to divide the spoils equally. That's what made them 'heroic' and that's what those Disney/Hollywood tales like to talk about. But nevermind that they stole and sold slaves as well as silks and gold - nevermind that when they took a town or a harbor, they had their way with the women (or children!) So, yeah, scary. But then fear was a great a weapon for them, too- and sometimes their very reputation won the battle before any shots were fired.

I don't intend to stop at this book when I'm finished. Following is a list for mostly my own benefit, to remind myself what I'm supposed to read next.

Piracy: The Complete History by Angus Konstam

Under the Black Flag: The Romance and the Reality of Life Among the Pirates

A General History of The Pyrates by Daniel Defoe
(The book I'm reading now referes back to this one quite a lot - and I'm interested also in finding out more about the real man behind the mythical Robinson Crusoe, whose name was Alexander Selkirk)

And because it's not ALL about serious book-learnin'....

The Government Manual For New Pirates - I've actually already read this, and it's full of sillyness and chortles. Quick read, lots of fun, and good to hand off to the next Pirate you come across.

The Pirate Primer: Mastering the Language of Swashbucklers and Rogues
This book, while fun and funny, also takes itself very seriously as a "language" and "grammar" book. It encompases a huge amount of quotes and sayings from both literature, history, and movies, along with correct pronounciations. There are a few things in here that I've stored away for future use, they're so poetic.

His trick is you and me, boy.

2010-06-29T18:13:00.000-05:00

Time is the one thing that Man can never recover once it is lost. Henry VIII said that. Didn't he? Well, Johnathan Rhys Meyers said it on Tudors. And he's pretty, so we should listen to him.

Time is the suck, isn't it?

We don't have enough of it. We spend time reading books about how to save time. Or blogs. Or we hire people to restructure our workplaces so we're better at using time. Time is powerful and fleeting and impossible.

I am, in fact, wasting your time right now.

I'm speaking here, of course, about personal time. Which is something everyone perceives differently- although if I understand the Big Head Scientists at all, it would seem that all time is relative, dependent upon space as well. But that kind of thing makes my poor brain fold up on itself and hide, so that's not what I'm going to go into right now.

The way I measure time is in terms of food. (What?) No, really. I know exactly when it's two hours until lunchtime (ham sandwich) and 6 hours until dinner (pizza) and that in 3 days it's my husband's birthday (cake!) I strongly suspect my cats measure time in terms of food as well, by the very fact that they try so hard to speed time up whenever they see me walk in the door.

It's somewhat depressing to think how much time we've lost. How much time are you spending doing something you hate? And what a cruel twist of perception causes boredom to make time move slowly, and enjoyment to make time move quickly. Why can't we voluntarily wire our brains to work that out the other way around?

I like my job. There are good days and bad days of course, like with anyone... but such a huge chunk of my life is going into what I do every day in the library. Is it really what I want to spend so much of this precious time doing? As Mary Oliver says -

Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do

With your one wild and precious life?

Do you like what you're doing? Do you feel your time is being wasted? I offer no fixes or other deep insight. Just a request that you be as aware of your time as you can be. If you're not enjoying it, maybe it's time to think of doing something else.

I'm going to go be a pirate.

A note on mediocrity.

2010-06-15T09:33:00.003-05:00

I am nothing special.

And no, that's not me fishing for compliments or hoping someone will point out some aspect of my being that I must have overlooked. I know mediocrity, and I know I am it. To claim anything different is to cling to a pathetic attempt at making something true by proclaiming it over and over again.

I have no special talents. I can't draw or write, I certainly can't sing or dance. I'm not overly fat nor very thin and I'm not noticeably in shape, either. I'm not ugly but not pretty; my face is too baby-ish to be sexy, my eyes slightly too close to be exotic. I'm too short to be willowy, but too chunky to be 'petite' or elfin. My voice is on the edge of squeaky and slightly annoying. I don't enunciate well and my brain works too slowly to be quick-witted. I'm only slightly amusing, only marginally smart; my recall is not good enough to engage in deep conversation and I don't know enough about anything to hold my own in any sort of debate. I don't even feel strongly enough about anything to pursue any sort of stance on any important topic. I'm not very nice, I'm certainly not patient, and being around lots of people in general makes me want to hide.

I look around at the people who can do so many things. Some are so athletic, some sing and dance, some are simply beautiful to behold. Some are extremely nice, others enviously acerbic of wit. You might be very smart, or you might be an expert on some interesting subject. Maybe you have a skill- maybe you knit or sew, maybe you write, or draw, or build things. Maybe you cook! Maybe you're creative in ways I can't even fathom.

When I was in the Marines[Officer Candidate School, to be specific], I was on a long hump with a 40 lb. pack and a broken waist strap. This caused the pack to slide very low down on my back, and mile after mile of this heavy pack pulling on my shoulders had me in tears. During one particularly difficult climb up a muddy, slippery hill, I was having a lot of trouble and was about ready to crack and scream that I couldn't do this anymore. At that point, an NCO I greatly respected, an older man with a face like granite, very quietly and unobtrusively reached out a hand and lifted that pack up, taking the weight off my screaming shoulders and allowing me to scramble my way to the top of the hill. It was only for a moment and he made no other effort to help me, nor did he ever say anything about it. But I'll never forget him for that brief moment of quiet help that he gave to me.

One thing that I can do, that I'm good at. I can love you, for your skill or ability. I can see you and appreciate what you do. I know it's not much... but it's what I like to do. I like to learn about you, and your skill, and if I can, I'll support you in some way so that you can achieve the thing you seek to achieve.

So maybe that's my quiet, mostly not-very-useful skill. In some small way, I can reach out and help lift up the person who truly has the talent and drive to achieve something great.

I want to strive to be that NCO at that moment on that hill. If I can find you and see you struggling, I'll be that hand to help lift the pack from your aching shoulders. So that you can make it up that hill and continue on to greatness, wherever that will lead you. It won't be a lot of help, but I hope it will be enough.

Skepchicamp!

2010-03-09T09:32:00.004-06:00

My husband and I went to a gathering this weekend unlike any we've ever attended before. This was a grassroots-organized meeting of like-minds; people who eschew false beliefs and seek the truth in science and logic. They call themselves "Skeptics" (or "sceptics" if you're in the UK) and until very recently, I had no idea I was one of them.

Without going into my whole history, we'll just say that I've always gravitated towards those schools of thought which were based on testable, provable facts over the new-agey "woo". Once upon a time, I really did try to believe in God, and then in gods (plural). And I really wanted to believe there was "more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy." But in the end, I think it was a combination of being around smarter-than-I people and exposure to their writings/podcasts/etc. that finally made me face reality and understand that the world is glorious without the addition of all of our man-made myths and monsters.

Skepchicamp, which is hosted by the Skepchicks, was a day of talks given by people on a wide variety of subjects. How to manage your money, how to feed your pets, the history of cults, bugs, the supernatural, and even a fantastic demonstration of how it's PHYSICS that allows a person the smash through several layers of wood with only his hand. Although the topics ranged far and wide, the same vein of "think skeptically" ran through them all. (See also the Friendly Atheist's blog for some great pictures and video, and click HERE for lots of cool Flickr photos from the event!)

Also prevalent was the appeal to begin your own local group of Skeptics - whether it be a Skeptics in the Pub, or a Drinking Skeptically, or even better, do something to educate and promote science and skeptical thinking among young women - as girls are often overlooked when it comes to "hard" school subjects such as science and mathematics.

As a first-time experience, my husband and I had a great time and we look forward to attending more such gatherings. In fact, we're very excited to be attending The Amazing Meeting (aka "TAM") in Las Vegas this summer. In this case, what happens in Vegas, I hope stays with me.

Penn & Teller - Bullsh*t! - The First Season

Mythbusters: Collection 1

Death from the Skies!: These Are the Ways the World Will End . . .

Bad Science

Trick or Treatment: The Undeniable Facts about Alternative Medicine

I got a brand new pair of roller skates, you got a brand new key...

2010-02-26T14:27:00.000-06:00

This may sound a bit silly, but I've just discovered Roller Derby.

All right, that's not very accurate. A few months back, CNN did a story about a 53 year-old Librarian whose alter ego was "MegaBeth" in the Derby world. After that, I thought, well geez, if she can do it, why can't I? I'm a Librarian! And I'm YOUNG compared to her!

A quick little search showed me that my town of Peoria, Illinois had no Derby team. So, I shelved that idea (ha, see what I did there) and went on with my life.

And then, a couple of weeks ago, I was farting around on Facebook and I saw that someone had joined a page called "Peoria Push Derby Dames". Lucky me -- some enterprising soul was starting up a league! And a few emails later revealed that I wasn't too late to join!

So... yes I'm 36 years old, my knees aren't that great, I've never been a strong skater, and I'm not exactly what you'd call competitive or a team-player. But, I'm going to be giving this a try. I'll post updates as it goes along, and let you know when/if I hurt myself enough to call it quits.

Wish me luck! Practice begins March 2nd. And, if you're in the Peoria area on Wednesday March 17th, come see me skate in the St. Pat's Day parade!

Knockdown Knits: 30 Projects from the Roller Derby Track
I've got this book -- and it's a bit worrisome that the first 5-6 patterns in the book are all for nursing injuries (like arm slings, crutch pads, ice-pack holders....)

Hell On Wheels
A good source on the history of Roller Derby, and one woman's perpective

Down and Derby: The Insider's Guide to Roller Derby
This one isn't out yet, but you can be sure it's on my pre-order list!

Rollergirl: Totally True Tales from the Track

And for some multi-media... try this A&E Documentary that my husband and I have been watching (with quite a bit of trepidation!)
Rollergirls - The Complete Season One

And for some well-made fiction, go check out this movie!
Whip It

Dem bones!

2010-02-16T12:23:00.010-06:00

Like many kids, I was endlessly fascinated by dinosaurs. The idea that these great big "lizards" once walked around on the same ground where I walked was mind-blowing to me. And the first time I went to a museum, and saw their bones, and saw the fossils, and saw all the fantastic names written beneath them... Brachiosaurus, Velociraptor, Icthyosaurus... I wondered very credulously - "How did they know the names if the dinosaurs were dead?"

I’m not entirely sure now why I asked – perhaps I thought that the animals that roamed the earth "told" us their names, and that's how we knew they were Cat, Dog, Iguana. Who knows- I was five years old after all.

When presented with my question, my teacher was understandably baffled. She told me, though, that the word "dinosaur" was applied by a man named Sir Richard Owen and, by the way, it was inaccurate because they weren't actually "lizards" at all. It wasn't until a bit later that I was able to wrap my mind around the fact that animals "got their names" by the people who discovered them. Or laid claim to discovering them, anyway.

Much, much later I got into looking up the people who discover and dig up these exciting fossils. Most of them were men, of course, although it turns out there were some women who made important discoveries as well. Women like Mary Anning (b. 1799, d. 1847).

Mary Anning started out by helping her father dig up the profusion of fossil specimens provided to them by the cliffs of Lyme Regis, England. She didn't have an easy life at all - often finding herself destitute and only her occasional fantastic discoveries – she is credited with finding the first specimen of Ichthyosaurus, and the first nearly complete example of the Plesiosaurus, among others -- keeping her afloat. It was only her personal flair and her long experience and self-taught knowledge that brought her any recognition in the field at all, since she was a woman, of a lower social class, and from a provincial area at a time when upper-class London men, gentlemanly scholars, received the bulk of the credit for geological discoveries.
In more recent years, however, she's received more acknowledgements of her contributions. She's also become the subject of many fictionalized characterizations - so some of what we know about her life might be pure conjecture. There's no doubt she was an interesting woman in her time, and I intend to read more about her, and I hope you do too!

The Fossil Hunter: Dinosaurs, Evolution, and the Woman Whose Discoveries Changed the World (MacSci)
This is the grown-uppy, in-depth book that I'd love to find the time to read someday.

Rare Treasure: Mary Anning and Her Remarkable Discoveries
This is a children's book, but I actually really like children's books for adults too - they're great when you want a taste of information, fast. Easily digested!

Remarkable Creatures by Tracy Chevalier
This is a fiction book based on Mary Anning's life -- it's waiting for me on my Kindle!
And meanwhile, don't forget to check your local library. Dinosaur books can all be found under 567.9, and more books about Mary Anning and other Paleontologists can be found under 560.92.

Good ol' Charlie D-to-the-WIN

2010-02-12T10:36:00.004-06:00

Today is Darwin Day, the day when geeks, nerds, and academics everywhere commemorate Charles Darwin’s birth (February 12, 1809).

Charles Darwin, as you should know (and if you don’t, please forward me the name and address of your elementary school teacher – we need to have a word or two with her) is known to be the father of evolutionary biology. His observations and subsequent publication of On The Origin of Species changed science and how humans thought of themselves forever.

Darwin day began in late 1990’s and now has its own website where you can learn more about the worldwide celebrations. Attend one near you!

I was thrilled to have been able to see a Darwin exhibition at the Science Museum in London, England. It's a traveling exhibition produced by the American Museum of Natural History, so check out your favorite science museum to see if they've got one you can go see, too.

Books abound, of course, but a few I have on my own reading list and must-gets:

On the Origin of Species: The Illustrated Edition
(because I like pictures with my words)

Charles and Emma: The Darwins' Leap of Faith
(because I think finding out about who he was and his life and relationships is interesting and important, too.)

And finally, don't neglect your local public library. They'll have lots and lots of books and information on Charlie D, and you can either ask the friendly purple-haired-tattooed Librarian for help, or just go on over to 576.82092 and see what you can find there for yourself.

EDITED TO ADD: Wondering what to get your sweetie for Darwin Day? Look no further than Archie McPhee.com for your very own Evolving Darwin Play Set!

New blog, actual thoughts.

2010-02-12T08:36:00.001-06:00

My Vox blog has pretty much degenerated into an OMG TIM MINCHIN blog (with the very occasional "what I'm reading now" post) and I've been wanting to start something that is a little more topic-centered. My problem has always been lacking the focus to actually sit down and write something coherent enough to be read by others. So, my goal here will be essentially notes for myself (and for you if you're interested) on things I've read or learned, and where to look up more information on the subject.

I hope it will turn into a conspectus, something I can return to when I have time to follow more links and leads. And, hopefully, I'll be able to keep it all fairly light-hearted. It will run the entire gamut of topics that you could possibly imagine, so don't be surprised if one day there's a post about learning politics and the next about the glories of bacon. That's the way I roll; so sayeth my brain, hence I follow. Forthwith. Therefore. Amen.