a photographic recap of the past few weeks.

Well, the past few weeks surely have flown by and with Christmas in the 7-day forecast*, I figured it time to update you on the latest happens since Thanksgiving... which feels like only yesterday.


1. I went to Germany... sort of....

The weekend following my journey back to the east coast, I packed my bags again to travel west and explore Leavenworth with the Barnes. We met up with some of Ron and Lisa's family and friends, as well as my AmeriCorps friend, Renee (she's also working on the Healthiest State campaign as a rural health promoter in Omak). One of the main reasons for visiting this rather unique, Bulgarian themed (seriously...) town you ask? Christmas lighting, of course! All the shops downtown flip the switch at the same time and it becomes a magical winter wonderland.... at least thats what we hear. Because needless to say, we kind of missed it, or should I rephrase... we didn't exactly realize it happened when we stepped out of a store. Promptly after the clock struck 4:30 p.m., through the crowd of (no exaggeration) a few thousand people, people dressed up with stars walked down the Main Street, the signal for switch flipping. We pondered, "Wonder why they're dressed up like stars?" Either way, we still enjoyed the lights and company.  

The next day, we went snowshoeing in the Cascades, the mountain range which serves as a beautiful backdrop for downtown. As you can tell, the valley certainly had plenty of snow and the beauty of the landscape had me in awe. I just can't get enough of the mountains here. With Lisa out of commission due to her broken foot, I trekked with Ron, Selena, Renee, and Lisa's friends Jackie and Glenn. The delightful company and magnificent scenery made the conclusion of our trip that much more enjoyable. I only wish I could have stayed longer....                  

                                                                                 And of course, no sojourn would be complete without a pun sighting. This one certainly won me over.  

2. When it snows... it snows! 

So, after putting in some long hours at work to make up for the time I'm taking off Christmas, I simply wanted to reward myself by driving to Moscow and going to the food co-op. I mean, what's better than fresh, organic food to provide me with some iron chef quality innovation! When Saturday came at last, I woke in the morning feeling refreshed. The start of my day exhibited no threat of snow or other trouble, and I felt great. Then, after indulging in the food co-op and tackling Christmas shopping, it began. Initially, the snow didn't appear threatening and with a background in New England winters, I felt confident. Well in case you didn't know, because I didn't, the snow out west definitely doesn't compare to the east coast. Not even remotely. Sure we get our blizzards and nor'easters, but I'm used to getting stuck behind plows and cursing them as a miscellaneous pebble collides with my windshield. Well, it seems plows go on vacation in winter leaving me with a messy road in white-out conditions. With a few grades to face before I could return to Pomeroy, I couldn't have biked faster than my speedometer showed I was traveling. As I reached the Lewiston Hill, a near 7% grade, my heart thumped nearly out of my chest and anxiety began rising as quickly as the snow on the ground. At long last I reached the bottom in one piece -- thank you, Volvo. Requiring a break, I continued some more Christmas shopping and waited until the snow quit. Feeling ready to conquer the Alpowa, I nearly reached the crest and the fog was so dense I could hardly see in front of me. Luckily, Bambi stayed in the fields and didn't appear in my headlights. 

3. You ask, "What's Christmas like in Pomeroy?" I reply, "Adult sized onesies and Nerf gun tag"

Thanksgiving also had a similar theme... 

... but Mom was sure glad I made it home alive without a scratch

* Disclaimer: Clearly I posted this blog entry after Christmas... so, more like Christmas in the "this week in review" news piece

It’s snow* cold outside my nose is running… oh wait, it’s snot**! (*so; **not)

Well welcome, whimsical winter weather wonderland! Whether we like it or not, tis the season for poorly plowed roads and slick sidewalks! And, as if perfectly planned for anxiety inducing torture, mother nature conveniently dumped a rare amount of white, flaky specks from the sky and created quite the uncertainty for my impending travels east. I kept uttering with spite in my tone, “You can’t make me stay, Mom (as in Mother Nature)! I’ll walk my way to Dartmouth even if it means I’ll get there for next Thanksgiving!” As Monday evening came around, the snow continuing to pile higher up my wellies, stress overtook me. My normal response of, “I’m fine,” probed Lisa to reply, “I know what that means. You’re stressed. Lets watch an episode of Chopped and drink some hot cocoa with peppermint schnapps.” How can one decline that offer? For the hour episode, my optimism grew, along with the snow outside, and as the sun rose into Tuesday, the snow exhibited no signs of weakening for my departure. When I arrived at work, I immediately checked the Department of Transportation website. To no surprise, giant red circles with white lines etched through the center, signaling road closures, flashed all over the map of Washington State. “Go figure.” I thought, “Of all weeks for there to be the first blizzard warnings in decades (Truth! Check out this story: http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2013498184_apwacoldsnow10thldwritethru.html), subzero temperatures (we’re talking -5°!), and road closures out of town! I really just want to go home for a few days!” Needless to say, as the hours pressed on, the snow finally began to let up and the sun peaked from behind the dense clouds. Susie, Larry, Harley (their dog), and I finally departed on our trek north to Spokane anticipating a slow journey. Surprisingly, the roads, according to Susie, were beautifully plowed; for my standards, they appeared untouched. The pavement and lines buried under the snow made it difficult for me to understand how this could be considered a good thing. Call me a plow snob, but I just didn’t understand the logic! At last, we made it to Spokane and on Wednesday morning I boarded my flight, barely made my connection in Las Vegas, and in 4 hours ran into the arms of my best friend, Dana, in Providence. At long last. The east coast. Not much changed, honestly. Dunkin Donuts still grace every street corner and people continue to drive horribly. I sure tell you, it's great to be home and catch up with friends and family. And since the season of giving thanks is upon us, I'd like to share with you my Thanksgiving day and meal in the only way I know how... punnily. 

So, once I gorton (a French meat stuffing, pronounced like 'got on') on the plane and finally landed in Rhode Island, my Thanksgiving adventure began. A turkey day tradition, I met up with Katey for a delightful pie breakfast. We then picked up Kate and watched Dartmouth squash Fairhaven in the annual Thanksgiving day football game. Not too many fowls (because turkey is fowl... in a variety of ways) were called and the band stole the show as always. After the game, I rolled (like a dinner roll) into the driveway to see who turnip-ed for dinner. We watched the Pats game and began stuffing our faces with appetizers. After the Pats whipped the Lions like mashed potatoes, Mom called for dinner. As the scent of turkey filled the kitchen, I was boggled* (because cranberries come from bogs) thinking about how the farmers treated the turkey during its life. We enjoyed our dinner and played a very entertaining game of uno. By the end of night, I'd haddock* (had it) with Thanksgiving and went to bed in preparation for Black Friday. 

For some, this may be PUNishment.

So I thought I'd update you on some recent puns I've encountered:

1. This morning I went for a run with buddy through town. Inevitably it didn't take long, but it surely had plenty of entertainment along the way other than nearly tripping over buddy. For instance, as I'm running along I happen to come across a uniquely landscaped home. You see, they literally had a flower bed. No seriously. A flower BED. As in a bed frame, with flowers in the mattress part. I'll take a picture one of these days... clever people out here, though.

2. I chuckled (and kept) this cup sleeve from my coffee while on the way to McCall, Idaho.

Get it? Like, coffee grounds for change.... proactive and punny? That's my kind of company!

3. So, be lucky you don't live with me and have to decipher this grocery list:

Let me translate (starting at line 3)

Olive oil & Popeye = olive oil and spinach

Canola you please quiet down? = canola oil

Yo soy mucho tonto! = Soy milk

4. Like they always say, friends are the best treetment*! (*treatment) 

Enjoy :) 

D-I-A-B-E-T-E-S

Diabetes: a word I’ve written and spelt correctly several hundred times. I don’t recall ever misspelling it before, and if I did, I trusted spell check or a proofreader to correct my most likely delirious studying stupor. So last Friday when I received a message from one of the ladies at the front office of the hospital about the misspelling of ‘diabetes’ on the monthly awareness poster I constructed, confusion overtook me. “Hmph,” I thought, “I know I rushed making that poster, but I’m certain I would have noticed if I spelt diabetes wrong!” Nerves also got the best of me. As I recited the message over and over in my head, I worried I may have upset some people since I was told several people commented on it, some considering it a joke, others regarding it as a slightly serious issue. They’re probably cursing, “That masshole can’t even spell… and she’s a nurse!” Yikes. “Of all days,” I thought. I didn’t feel well; my head aching and face losing more and more color by the second. On my way to head home sick for the day, I decided I needed to check out the situation, otherwise my mind would keep racing and it simply needed a break. I trekked up the hill, through the door and planted myself in front of my poster. Minutes passed. I kept reading the same words over and over. “What the heck are they talking about…” I began muttering, “Maybe I’m missing something?” I kept searching. People walked by, “Whatcha doing Kate?” they asked. “Trying to figure out what’s wrong with this poster,” I replied. I didn’t understand. “Am I that blind or just really not feeling well,” I contemplated. Finally snapping out of my deep concentration, I noticed footsteps and a voice calling out. “So, are you trying to figure out what’s spelt wrong?” asked Derek from x-ray. “Yeah, I don’t get it! I don’t understand! It’s spelt right… right?” He gently put his hand on my shoulder and walked me down the hall. He began to explain, “Josh (our prankster PA)played a joke on you. He had Alicia call down after you left the other day devilishly hoping you’d be at your desk and would have to come back up to check the poster. There’s nothing wrong with it.” Dang! I fell for it! Completely caught off guard. I should’ve known. 

Canola* you please come visit? (*Can all of)

I find it quite mystifying how quickly life’s emotions can veer you. As you probably gathered from my previous entry, my psyche apparently took a trip back to Silverwood and rode the Panic Plunge. However, this weekend I returned to the summit of that great solo hike up Kendall Katwalk and, in a figurative sense,  I felt so high on life (cliché and pun all in one!). When I gather enough energy and can focus for an extended period of time, I’ll write about the really fascinating, and unexpected, experiences I had during my travels to the Bridges Out of Poverty simulation/seminar, the Washington Health Foundation Health Summit, and my AmeriCorps training. But before I can address those topics, I find it necessary to update you on how my mind feels these days -- far more important than reading about how to write grants and the frequent buyer cards that keeps track of the foods you’re buying. So, what made this weekend so great that I went from really bummed to having fun? Mild tangent -- I hope you laughed at that rhyme. Well, let me tell you. Simply combine an empty house (ironic considering I feel lonely, I know), successful experimentation with cooking, discovering an amazing food co-op and other awesome hidden treasures nearby, and meeting some truly incredible and unique individuals. Just a few of the ingredients for the recipe of revitalization! With Ron, Lisa, and Nate away for the weekend, as much as I missed them and the quietness of the house sort of freaked me out, it was the perfect KFo time. Defeated with a borderline migraine on Friday, I stayed home from work… extending my weekend and giving me more time to recuperate from all the traveling of the previous few weeks. I seriously needed a break. I rested most of the day, knitting and watching cheesy movies on Netflix. I had big plans for Saturday so I didn’t want to overdo it. Craving a bit of culture, hipsters, and retail therapy, I headed to Moscow Saturday morning with plenty of places to go on my list -- but really, I just wanted to finally find the Moscow Food Co-op. I’ll just be straightforward. I found my true love. I’ve been searching all over the west for a place thats completely me, and there it was. A place I passed so many times; I’m embarrassed by my lack of observational skills. As I approached the electronic sliding door, my smile immediately protruded, stretching from ear to ear. Not only were a row of bikes standing before me, but they were being held up by none-other than a bicycle rack shaped (and painted) like a sunflower. This was only the beginning. Immediately I walked towards the fresh, organic produce. The beautiful colors of fruits and vegetables sparked my weary eyes as they widened with joy. I’m not sure I’ve ever been quite so excited about lettuce and radishes in my life. With each step, I had a difficult time taking in all the wonderfully arranged foods -- each touching my heart with their non-GMOs and animal friendliness.  The entire shopping experience really made me feel great in so many ways. I felt my true self finally back. People talked with you and smiled. As I checked out my groceries, the cashier, a lovely older lady, gave me the best run-down of their co-op membership (which I of course invested in -- partly as a co-pay for the successful therapy they unintentionally provided). Unlike at other grocery stores or pharmacies where you are asked if you’d like a free shopping card and you receive it, I found out how great this membership really is! A worthy investment, and an excuse to visit Moscow more often. With a grin glistening on my face, I left knowing I was no longer in the epicenter of my own natural disaster. Again, I spent another evening to myself, knitting, watching movies, and teaching myself the ukulele. I made another successful dish for dinner, polenta with eggplant and tomato ratatouille -- something I’d been wanting to make for quite some time. So if I can reiterate something I always preach, but hardly practice, take time for yourself when you’re feeling down. You’d be amazed at how easily you can elope into happiness when you do things you always say you never have time for. And as far as my loneliness is concerned, I met some really great people Sunday night in Waitsburg -- a small town similar (somewhat) to Pomeroy -- and they introduced me to a bar I never imagined would exist in Waitsburg. Think trendy suburban, city bar. Modern with fancy cocktails. I’m talking 5-star quality. Yeah, in a really obscure place. Such a great find though, and finally, a glimpse of un-rural life. 

don't take the 'y' out of funky. when you do, you're left in a funk and you don't know 'y'!

Well, as they say... honesty is the best policy. And frankly, being honest with yourself proves more challenging than with others most times. But if you can overcome the racing thoughts and denial, its a fantastic start to dealing with your emotions. You see, I'm learning how to follow cliché sayings... like practicing what you preach. So now that I've overcome being honest with myself, let me divulge my inner thoughts (not all of them... don't worry!) and tell you, I'm in quite the funk. Homesick... lonely... overwhelmed with reality... just to name a few.  Most of you who know me well enough can attest to this, I'm one of those "I'm fine" people even when I'm really not fine at all. So this is me working diligently to not be that person anymore, and I think I'm doing an alright job. Now, don't get me wrong, I love my job. I sincerely love and care about the people in my Pomeroy life. I've met some absolutely remarkable people since I arrived here. And these individuals certainly make those feelings of isolation ten times more manageable. As I've come to realize, the excitement stage has ended and my routine has become a reality.  In a way, this funk I'm in isn't exactly one of just 'get me out of here'! I mean sure, going to Seattle and being around flocks of people doesn't necessarily help my situation but my thoughts are completely indecisive.... shocking for me, I know (insert sarcasm). Sometimes when I'm in the city I actually feel bored and miss the small town... or maybe just the chaos of the Barne's household. Maybe I attribute this to the fact that I'm alone most times I visit the city. There's only so much exploring you can do and jokes you can say to yourself. And when you literally laugh out loud at your own punniness, people look at you funny. But at the same time I don't want to leave. I want to embrace the culture of Seattle and indulge in all the vegetarian cafes and microbrews. I want to ride my bike through the streets and wear my rain coat all the time. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've made a great deal of change in my life in a very short amount of time. Graduating from college, becoming a nurse, moving across the country, and being truly independent. I've broken out of my comfort zone completely and I'm proud of myself for doing it, but that doesn't mean it isn't difficult. Change is great, but it sucks too. Deep down, I know this is exactly where I want to be at this point of my life, but it's hard and I'm simply trying to accept that and not put up the "I'm fine" front. And so I don't want my depressive writing to be contagious, let me leave you with a pun. While driving to Yakima I passed by a place called Eureka. I shouted, Eureka I've got it! Turn right at the next exit!

Holy sheep* this is amazing! (*while driving by a field of 200ish sheep eating donut described below)

Let me tell you about why this donut and coffee surpasses any I've EVER had... and why I chose to tell you about it before I wrote about some actual intellectual material I learned at the conferences I attended. Because, lets be serious, food comes before just about everything else in life. 

It all began on Saturday morning in Seattle. Alarm set for 7. Woke up at 8. Out of the house at 9. Determined. I wanted a great breakfast. Something fantastic. I spent about 2 hours the night before researching some organic, eco-loving cafes in the Fremont area. Hard to find, I know. Well, my search led me to Lama G's and Mighty O Donuts. Now, I heard of Mighty O's before, but Lama G's intrigued me. So I figured I'd grab a breakfast sandwich first then get a donut and coffee for the road. Definitely should have went with just the donuts... 

*         *         *

So here I am, over the Snoqualmie Pass and needing gas. I stop in Cle Elum, a small town in central Washington. It's about lunchtime after I find a really neat consignment shop so I decide to indulge in my Good ol' Glazed donut. Now, I already downed my coffee. I'm not sure what roast I drank, but with the little soy milk I added, incredible. Phew. Wow. Just thinking about it gives me butterflies in my stomach... and I think, by golly, is that... is that growling I hear? I probably shouldn't think about this too long....

Anyways. The donut. When I say phenomenal in every way possible, I mean phenomenal in every way possible. It had the perfect amount of crisp to spongy, moist inside. The glaze had a fantastic hard, but soft consistency. With each bite, I anticipated the next knowing it would taste equally as enjoyable. Fresh. Organic. Amazing. Delightful. That's what the donut tasted like. My mouth waters thinking about it...

You should really check out their website and see the other types of donuts they have and also their mission. Quite awesome. They even have vegan donuts. Really, can Seattle get any cooler? Do you understand why I sincerely love the west coast way of life -- more specifically Seattle? Everyone rides their bikes, genuinely cares about their Mother (... nature), loves animals and veggies, and makes a mean cup of coffee. Oh, and the perfect combination of mountains and water. 

Is this the real world or am I dreaming? 

Check it out :: Mighty O' Donuts -- http://www.mightyo.com 

Diamond Peak, Umatilla National Forest.

Yesterday afternoon I went for a drive with Ron into the Umatilla with original intentions to "shoot." I mean, if I'm going to drive down the highway and see men walking with shotguns on the side of the road, I should probably get more comfortable around them. At the current moment, the thought of being in a house with a gun just creeps me out -- but uh, it's hard to find a house that doesn't have a gun around here. Anyways, you probably can't tell by this picture, but the wind was blowing around 40 mph, if not more. So, instead of risking a bullet coming around like a boomerang, we hiked around in the snow a few hundred feet up the road until our feet screeched, "We're numb!" Or, maybe I just used the wind as my excuse to not have to touch those guns...

It’s nookulear war around here!

So, living with a 1 year old has taught me the importance of many things related to parenting. Now, there are many essential items you need for a baby, but the single, most can’t live without thing a parent needs, you ask? A nook, also known as... a pacifier. You see, when little Nate’s crying and nothing else seems to relieve this temporary tantrum, the sacred nook always saves the day. But, when there’s none to be found and you’re searching everywhere while the laugh/cry (really, it sounds like he’s laughing when he’s crying… I sometimes feel bad when I chuckle as he’s bawling) starts getting louder, it turns into nookulear war. 

How deer* you shoot me! (*dare.... by the way, it's hunting season)

Well, I've neglected you for some time. My excuses for neglect, horrible. I became a grandma and started knitting. Initially it became my obsession, but then Buster (the crazy-haired poodle I now live with) got into my yarn and its a disaster. So I transitioned to excuse number two: my eyes can't handle staring at a computer screen to type about my hectic, and mildly entertaining, life here in Pomeroy.

Anyways, a brief recap of my life:

1. I turned 22. I had a fantastic birthday weekend hiking (see previous picture post of Oregon Butte) and wine tasting with some great gals in Walla Walla. Can you believe that a small, rural community in the middle of Washington could be the next Napa Valley?
2. I moved into town with Ron, Lisa, and Nate, their 1 year old son. Life in the country simply became too... well, disconnected. So for my own sanity, and everyone else's, I now can walk to work and everywhere else. Oh! And I have stable internet and cell service! Wahoo!
3. Explored Seattle for the first time! The city, REI, and space needle, were definitely smaller than I made Seattle up to be in my head. I still loved the atmosphere, people, and Pikes Market. But don't get me wrong... public transportation isn't ideal, and I learned that the hard way. Apparently buses don't actually pick you up where they drop you off... thank goodness for nice people who like bikes and have fancy phones! I made it back safely to the place I was staying. Speaking of which, I stayed with some really great people (a friend of a friend... of a friends) who showed me the town and provided me with an awesome place to stay with great food (they knew that whenever entertaining an AmeriCorps volunteer... feed them!). I sure didn't complain! But the cool part, and reason why I went, was the AmeriCorps launch. Though slightly intimidating when I initially walked in to a crowd of nearly 800 people and most of them were in teams and I was one of the few individual placements and probably only from eastern Washington... I met some really great people and got psyched for the program year! Again, it provided with those small reminders I sometimes forget about why I chose to do AmeriCorps.
4. I went for my first solo hike at Kendall Katwalk in the Snoqualmie Pass going to Seattle. The day could not have been more perfect and I enjoyed the peace and tranquility of going at my own pace... well at least once I hiked high enough that I couldn't hear the trucks barreling away on I-90.
5. Mom and Dad came for a visit. They gave the seal of approval and actually really enjoyed it here. And they couldn't understand why I freaked out so much... even after I took them the scary way when I first drove into town.
6. I became an official registered nurse in Washington and today, I had my first day as an RN. I mean, for real. The hospital recently hired me to spend one day a week helping out as the clinic nurse. An amazing opportunity I couldn't pass up and I'm really excited. Anyways, as any first day for a new graduate should be, it certainly did not lack "duh" moments. For instance, tis the season for flu shots... and I gave my fair share. Except one. You see, by the afternoon I felt pretty good, getting back into the swing of things. I pulled up the solution from the vial, switched needles, got the patient in the room.... and then it happened... "Shit" I thought.... I couldn't get the cap off the dang needle. I swear, they superglue them. And I'm not the only one who has the same issue! But, I forgot what Kayleen (the RN who's training me) said... loosen the cap so you don't have this exact problem. Clearly looking like more of a nursing student, or untrained professional, than a RN, my patient instantly recognized my struggle and the questions began. It started with, "So, how long have you been here?" to "Have you done this before?" to "Uh, can I request to have the other nurse give me the shot." Of course. This would happen. I can laugh now because I'll never make THAT mistake again, but I felt pretty frustrated at the time. I also had another "duh" moment when I -- and I blame fatigue and being overwhelmed -- asked Kayleen, "So how much should I pull up?" Side note: it was a single dose immunization. Of course you draw up all of it! Ohh, just one of those days....

So in a nutshell, those have been the big happenings. I'll try to do better with the updates... the next few weeks involve lots of traveling, training, and hopefully, more writing!

Oregon Butte, Washington.

Saturday morning.

 The weekend. Finally. Lately, the days mesh together with only Saturday and Sunday illuminating. Start off fresh. No responsibilities. No meetings. No emails. No finite plan. Just two days to do, well, anything. Wake up early and cook breakfast. No rush. Simply enjoy it. A house to myself. Space. Funny how I still crave an empty house in the middle of nowhere. Not that I don’t enjoy the company of Suzanne, just sometimes it’s nice to be alone. My thoughts on Saturday morning. The day. Alarm set for 8. Make a real breakfast. Moscow for biking. Coffee with Michele. Fishing with the Barnes. A good day. A relaxing day. Cherish these moments, it’s going to be a long week. “Beep.” I wake up. A deep breath. Stretch. Alarm off. I’m up. Home. I think of home. I often think of home at this time of day. “This feels like a New England Coffee type of morning,” I mutter to myself. Self-dialoguing becomes socially acceptable when not around other people. These mornings remind me of college. The cliff house. A morning ritual of sorts for Lynne and I -- cinnamon hazelnut coffee with a splash of vanilla soy milk. Divine. The perfect combination. This was one of those mornings. I miss those mornings. I need this morning. Food. Eggs -- scrambled. I hear the screams. Kids tackling chickens. I still can’t get over the chicken scramble at the fair. I shake it off. Fry the eggs. Eject the toast. Into my plate. Sip the coffee. “Clank.” The fork meets the ceramic plate like a mallet hitting a gong. I finish eating. Satisfied. Excited. No responsibilities. A day to relax. I hear silence. Nothing but the strange whistle as cars travel past. I descend to my room. I pack for the day. Noises. Feet. My mind races. Ears perk. “What the… it must be the cats. Yes, it’s the cats… they’re always fighting… no. It can’t be. That’s a person. Who the hell is that? Shit… this would happen… there’s no way that’s Suzanne. She left to Walla Walla only a few hours ago.” I pause. Frozen. My feet snug in my shoes. Spandex tight around my thighs. Ready to run. Ready to attack. I reach for the pocketknife. The cool metal causes my warm body to shiver as I clip it on my shorts. “Don’t mess with a masshole,” I mouth in the mirror. I’m prepared. I step out the door and tip toe down the hall. I continue to hear the rustling of bags, feet scurrying across the carpet above me. I peer out the window. No use. Can’t see the driveway. I quietly ascend up the stairs. I make my way around the corner, peering up. Nothing. I hear, but see nothing. The last step. I see the kitchen. I laugh. “Oh hey, Suzanne. You’re back early.” Relief? Maybe. Relaxed? Definitely not. I leave. No responsibilities. Enjoy the day. It’s going to be a long week.  

(While holding a beet...) Sometimes, life's just unbeetable!

I should start out by simply apologizing for my lack of blogging, but the real world takes a lot out of you! My eyelids have developed an automatic timer set like a garage door to shut at 9:30 p.m. And I struggle to keep them open any longer. In college, I always looked forward to a real job with an actual schedule and consistent paycheck. What was I thinking? Sure per diem life had it’s perks. When the phone rang and you recognized the number as work, you could simply let it ring, wait for the voice mail message to come up, then contemplate whether you want to go in. Of course if you waited long enough to call back, they typically already found someone. And in the off-chance they hadn’t, you could still say you have to bring your cat to Petco and couldn’t miss the appointment. In the full-time work world, too bad if Fluffy needs her nails trimmed, you’re going to work. Granted my life as an AmeriCorps ‘whatever’ (We’re still working on the right word to follow AmeriCorps. Typically we fill in the blank with ‘person.’) doesn’t nearly come with the hardships of triple checking your timesheet, but it can get complicated. Especially considering I have 4 separate places to journal my day to day tasks and 3 places to fill in my hours. But it’s all worth it. I absolutely love what I’m doing -- just don’t ask me what I’m doing. It’s rather difficult to describe and a bunch of miscellaneous jargon typically pours out of my mouth if you get me going. In a nut shell, I’m trying to motivate people to get excited about taking care of themselves and be healthy. How? By making really awesome posters and thinking of creative ways to convince people that sugar free chocolate tastes just better than Ghiradelli. Good luck, right? But each day, despite never ending computer issues and CDEMS (our chronic disease management program… aka, my new best friend) drama, I realize more and more how I am in exactly the right place. I absolutely adore the people I work with and I never go more than 10 minutes without laughing. My super supportive supervisor Susie (Hows that for alliteration?) always keeps me smiling and finding ways for me to get the most out of my experience. I really couldn’t ask for a better mentor or site supervisor. She even gets my sarcasm and my puns… I’ve been gradually working them into conversation. I’m not sure Pomeroy’s truly ready for the KFo jokes. It took Suzanne a good minute or so for her to get my “Hay! It’s your birthday!” card (it had a picture I took of a hay bale on front). Speaking of Pomeroy, I want to mention a little side note. So last week I went up to Spokane (one of the bigger cities in Washington) to get Edward serviced at the Volvo dealership. I dropped him off and decided to explore the area. You know, soak in the streetlights, commercialized city blocks, and graffitied underpasses -- all things I thought I missed. Thought, key word. Now, I can navigate anyone on the T and get you to most places in Boston. Typically, I get cities. Well if you saw me in Spokane you would have thought I’d never stepped foot in more than a 12 block town.  Being in a new place with no idea where to go lead me to require calling Michele, desperate to find my way back to the dealership. And I still got lost. I guess living in a place where there’s only one Main Street causing you to lose your sense of direction. Each step I kept saying, “I just want to be back in Pomeroy.” But this wasn’t the only thing I realized. As I walked down the city streets, I found myself in an almost meditative state. I really took the time to observe my surroundings and take in everything around me, and it hit me. For so long I’ve craved to live in the city, Cambridge specifically. I wanted to be in a place where everything could be accessed out my front steps and I depended on public transportation (Because the T is so dependable... insert sarcasm). I always considered big cities as a place where the need for volunteers surpassed places like Pomeroy. Hence why I applied for AmeriCorps positions in major cities around the states (and somehow Pomeroy fell into that category… hmmm). Yet as I walked down a street I couldn’t point out on a map, I realized I don’t belong in a big city. At least not with what I’m doing now. Sure the need’s great in those overpopulated areas, but it’s equally as necessary in places where your closest neighbors lives a quarter mile down the road… in both directions. And the thing is, when you live in a city you merely become another person walking down the street. In a small community, people wave and say hi even when they don’t know you. You hardly find that in a city. It’s just the opposite. Avoiding eye contact is almost regarded as a social norm because that typically means you’re too into the podcast playing on your iphone or stopping to talk would make you late for your daily ten word latte order at Starbucks -- no whip. And I won’t deny that when I’m in Boston, I sometimes get zoned out with my iPod in one hand and tall soy chai in the other. But when you’re trying to create change and engage with a community as big as Boston, you can easily get lost and become just another person among the crowd waiting for the ‘walk’ signal. That’s why I love where I am, and I knew this from my interview. I wasn’t just another applicant, or even Kathryne, I was Kate. And since I’ve arrived, everyone treats me that way. Already I feel so appreciated for the work I’m doing, and really I haven’t even done much. And one advantage, a large chai costs less than a tall chai at Starbucks and I’d debate that it tastes better too. So I might not be in a happenin’ or trendy place and I’m more concerned about a cougar or wolf attacking me, I’m okay with that. Essentially, I have everything I need at my disposal. Granted it takes a little longer to get there, but in reality it probably takes less time than waiting for a train or bus. All in all, I can’t complain. I mean, I even talk to our doctor about hiking and shopping at thrift stores. Seriously, the fact he acknowledges me and knows my name floors me. I’m used to developing tremors and heart palpitations whenever required to talk with a doc, anticipating they’ll either blow me off or say, “who are you, again?” So despite having to do a mental check every so often to remind myself, “Yes, this is real life,” at least I won’t be woken by sirens or neighbors music… just a cat’s “meow” so loud at 4:57 a.m. it wakes you out of a sound sleep. True story. 

It’s a serious afFAIR in Pomeroy!

For most rural farming communities, fair weekend is a big deal, and the Garfield County Fair in Pomeroy holds true to this tradition. Over the course of the past week conversations revolved around the fair, signs reading “See you at the fair” appeared on storefront windows, and traffic going through town seemed to increase -- but don’t get frazzled, it still wasn’t nearly as bad as Cape traffic during the summer. A sense of community spirit spread through town and brought with it a heartwarming feeling. I had the opportunity to volunteer at the fair and later enjoy it with Kate, and no I’m not talking in the third person. My volunteer duties involved manning the cabin with Susie and sucking up my hatred of balloons to keep the children happy and teenagers talking in funny voices. Somehow, I managed to survive the painful sound and unbearable feel of balloons. On a side note, the cabin actually has quite the history. The hospital acquired it some time ago and moved it from its original location to the fairgrounds. A family of six or so lived in this one room with a loft house thats about the size of medium sized bathroom, minus the toilet and tub. It became the joke that Suzanne kicked me out and I now live in the cabin. Better get some heavier long johns for the winter! On my off time, I did get to look around at the exhibits, animals, and events. And I surely enjoyed the majority of it. So what’s there, you ask? Well, there’s a showcase of farm animals including chickens, cows, lambs, sheep, bunnies, pigeons… you name it, they’ve raised it. And by “they” I mean the FFA and 4-H youths (we’re talking 6-18 year olds), as well as adults. And these aren’t just your standard moo-cows or roosters. Just about every breed, color, size you can imagine are well represented. It’s amazing to see how much work and dedication these kids put into raising and showing their animals. And I must say those kids look quite adorable in their cowboy boots and hats. Makes my childhood look rather unproductive. Besides the animals, displays of flower and wheat arrangements, photography, paintings, old tractors and farming equipment were spread throughout the fairgrounds… and then the lawn mower races. On Saturday night, Kate and I went down to the beer garden, located right beside the track for racing dirt bikes, ATV’s, and…. lawn mowers. These lawn mowers had some serious bunny speed, but unfortunately 6 out of the 8 didn’t last more than 2 laps and eventually all the lawn mowers broke down. Bummed, we called it a night for the fair and watched classic movies instead. Nothing, however, could have prepared me for Sunday’s festivities. The first event of the day left me seriously dumbstruck -- the chicken scramble. And no, it’s not who can make the best scrambled eggs. Picture this. Groups of small children separated by grade starting at elementary school. Three grown chickens. “Ready. Set. Go.” And the kids racing like mad to tackle the nearest chicken and claim their prize. Borderline animal cruelty? I’m not sure. But I can’t say I ever thought I’d witness something as absurdly bizarre as what I did. And this seemed to be a theme for the remainder of the day. Afterwards, we walked through the agricultural museum which Suzanne’s brother Gary has done a tremendous amount of work organizing. Inside, machines from the early 1900s and a full size kitchen equipped with antique utensils and appliances brought an eclectic spectacle of life in the old days. One of the more impressive displays, which we had the opportunity to talk with the artist behind it, was a wooden half-sized replica of a plow from 1918. Inspired by a picture found in a magazine, he spent 3 years intricately putting together this astonishing piece of work all by his own interpretation of how to create it. Then, the rodeo. So, I’ve never experienced a rodeo before other than what I’ve seen on TV and in movies. I honestly never knew what to make of it other than I felt badly for the animals and the riders getting trampled. Not my idea of entertainment, but with my “you can’t judge it until you experience it” attitude, I had to witness the rodeo for myself. So Kate and I headed over to the stands and saw a small town rodeo at its finest. The first event, sheep riding. Who rode? Four year olds, maybe pushing five or six? In my eyes, still too young to get bucked by a sheep. And yes, those sheep do get wild. Between all the odd events, roping took place. This pained me. Teams and individuals tried their hand at lassoing steers running around the course. I found the two person roping worst because the poor cow got pulled from the hind leg and horn causing it to split. And looking more like pulling its leg straight out of the socket. Horrible. I cringed at the sight. Then came the wild cow milking. Ready to pounce on the victims of cow trampling, I witnessed grown men chase cows and at times tackling them just to gain control and get some milk. I mean, I guess that sounds fun? Luckily, or more like amazingly, no one required medical attention. One individual just needed a new pair of jeans after the steer bounced all over him. The only mildly entertaining, and cute, part of the rodeo weren’t the men in cowboy hats, but the little kids who untied ribbons off goat’s tails. So needless to say, my fair experience brought with it some really interesting memories and things I never imagined I would witness. In the end, I’d do it again. But maybe minus the wind carrying the scent of hamburgers in my direction. And don’t worry, I refrained from saying, “Man, I could really go for a veggie burger right now!” 

The thrill factor.

When someone mentions “thrill” a few things come to mind. First, I think of my fear of the Michael Jackson “Thriller” music video. Yes, I still sleep with all my doors closed. And yes, my theory remains that since he died, the likelihood of his ghost finding me surpasses the previous fear of him locating me when he still moonwalked the earth. The next thought brings forward my nerdy side. Listening for a thrill with your stethoscope on a patient with a fistula. See, I paid attention in nursing school. But mostly I relate thrill to doing things that are completely and utterly, well, ludicrous. For instance, roller coasters. Here goes. So last weekend I tagged along with some of my coworkers and their families to Silverwood, the Northwest’s largest amusement park. It’s located in northern Idaho and you can’t miss it. Seriously. As you escape from Couer d’Alene and travel north, green pines and other tree species (a rare sight these days) line the mountain sides which are neighbored by grassy fields. Then, as you approach an Athol (Pun. Cue laugh.) and make your way around the bend, random as a bison in the middle of Times Square, there’s an amusement park. Fashioned with roller coasters and kiddy rides galore, it’s the last thing you’d expect to see...at least it was for me. Thinking back to trips to Six Flags or Disney World, the anticipation to arriving usually results in a “Whoa, look at all the rides!” when it comes into sight. With Silverwood, it’s a different “whoa” factor. It’s more along the lines of, “Whoa, am I hallucinating or is there seriously an amusement park in the middle of the forest?” My reaction exactly. Once again patience seemed to be the quality of the day, like most days, when we arrived. We had to wait for just about everything. Wait to get into the park. Wait to get into the actual park. Wait in line to go on the rides. Wait for your brain to return to your head after a roller coaster. Good thing I’m used to this by now. Our first adventure began on the kids rides so Michele’s son, Cayden, could see what the “big park” was all about. Paired up, me with Michele and Cayden with Steph (Michele’s friend), we rode the ferris wheel. Now, I believe the last time I went on a ferris wheel brings me back to Story Land or Santa’s Village in New Hampshire… and I sure don’t remember it being so traumatizing. Don’t get me wrong, the view was nothing to complain about. However, the whole swaying in the air in a metal box thing certainly did not excite me. Poor Michele. This simply only began a sequence of bad ‘thrills’. After Cayden piloted the helicopters, conducted the train, and sprinted through the giant treehouse, Jeff (my site supervisor) and Shannon (our hospital’s CFO) babysat him for a bit while Michele, Steph, and I went on the big kid rides. I should have stuck with those. The first ride, tremors, left me with my brain rattling for a good 10 minutes after the ride. This rackety wooden roller coaster not only whips through turns and plunges into the depths of an underground tunnel (which I did not anticipate dropping THAT much), but shakes your body around like a house in a windstorm. I could barely catch my breath as we walked away. Disclaimer: I have never been a wimp about roller coasters before in my life. I loved them as a kid! Not sure what happened since… Anyways, repeating, or maybe convincing myself, that “life’s about the experience” I decided to join Michele and Steph on the “aftershock” which makes a cliff hanger quite literal. As we approached the line, not far behind was Shannon and Jeff’s son, Tyson. Together we waited and shared the interesting experience of this couple in front of us dancing, as in a dance routine.  Perplexed by the situation, we stood back as to not interrupt their rhythm and observed. Interesting… After some time, my fate had arrived. Anxiety rising and breathing faster, I strapped myself in. I pulled the seat belt as tight as possible and ensured the harness would not let me budge more than a few centimeters. “Why do I do this to myself?” I thought out loud. Laughter from my fellow daredevils followed. Before I could catch my breath, we began to move… backwards. You know those scenes in scary movies when they start playing that eery music and you anticipate something popping out and when it does, you scream and spill popcorn everywhere? Yeah, that’s basically what happened except I had no popcorn. Making our ascent backwards, the clicking of whatever pulley system replicated that horror film music thus resulting in my repetition of the phrase, “I don’t like this game!” Michele’s response? “30 seconds! It’s only 30 seconds!”  Laughter from Steph and Tyson came from behind. Like I mentioned before, as a kid these rides gave me such a thrill. I couldn’t wait to go on them when we got to Universal Studios. And I’d even ride those high intensity coasters as many times as possible. Apparently age has demolished my ability to handle these extremes. Well, 30 seconds felt like 30 days, and after all the corkscrew turns, my fate in the strength of a harness, and constant screaming of profanities, it was over. Finally. Catching my breathe and ready to get out, of course had to make me suffer more and remained locked an extra minute while everyone else hopped out of their seats. Go figure. At this point it was time to meet the rest of our group for lunch, and our stomachs were telling us so. After filling up on a BBQ-esque buffet, one last ride remained -- the panic plunge. At first, I declined and decided to watch Cayden instead. Good excuse, I know. This ride pulls you up to about 140 feet and then drops before catching you (at least you hope) at the bottom. They say at a speed of 47 mph. Yikes. Compiling the nerve, and possibly my youth bursting through, I figured, “What the hell. Its only 30 seconds.” So I went on with Steph. Well, that 30 seconds I thought it would last felt more like 10 hours when they began lifting you up. You think you’re at the top then, just kidding! You’re still suffering until suddenly, DINK! Drop! Now, most people have never heard me scream. I don’t even think I’ve heard me scream. I screamed like a little girl being chased by a pack of boys with dodgeballs. Afterwards, my throat hurt like when you go to a concert and try singing louder than the speakers to every lyric to each song.  Needless to say, at this point we were all thrilled out. And for me, I think I reached my quota of amusement parks for another 10 years. 

Civilization. (a view of Lewiston, ID and Clarkston, WA)

The truth about Pomeroy.

Now, many of you have asked, "So Kate, what's life like out there? Do people have teeth? Are there tumbleweeds? Do they still have bunny ears on their TV sets? Do they know what the “internet” is? Are there still horse and buggies being used?" All valid points, and quite honestly... I asked myself those same questions when I walked around with the google man, and even more so when I drove through town the first night. So let me demystify this little place called Pomeroy for you and hopefully you'll have a little better picture... though it's hard to truly understand it unless you're here -- trust me.

Are tumbleweeds real? -  Yes, tumbleweeds aren’t just some made up Hollywood plant. They often get caught under your car, in your shoelaces, and the spokes of your bike wheels. These are much friendlier than the killer tumbleweeds. These malicious plants lurk on the roadside, waiting for bicyclists to ride over them so they can pierce through their tire. I learned this the hard way...

Do they still have dial-up internet? --  Not that I’ve experienced but, it’s no high speed either. You learn quickly when moving west the need for patience -- especially when it comes to the internet. Internet, wi-fi, e-mails, and even facebook have possessed the minds in the most remote places.  Someone told me that if it wasn't for the internet, the isolation you normally feel in this desolate place would surpass borderline insanity. Granted some older folks may think the world wide web is some hippie driven idea that brings our world together like a spider web to create an illusion of a world more peaceful because we’re all connected, well that's to be expected anywhere. Either way, loading google often takes more than the 1.53 seconds but like they say, “patience is a virtue.”

Is there really only one bar? --  Ready to bar hop? Well, I can guarantee everyone will eventually end up at the same place, because you have all of one to choose from, called the Up & Up. Ready to envision it? Imagine a biker bar minus the leather and Sturgis signs, add some creative broomsticks used for pool cues and a bunch of locals your Dad’s age and older… and there you have it. Oh, and you can’t forget the tire marked floors from when someone rode their motorcycle inside. So, don't expect to meet your true love there, unless of course thats your type. They have no draft beers but have a wide selection of budweiser, bud light lime, keystone, and coors... Maybe even busch light. 

What sorts of fun things can you do? -- Well, like most towns out west, fairs and festivals fill nearly every weekend. Pomeroy has the Garfield County Fair, and it’s a BIG deal. The whole town revolves around fair weekend. Book club doesn't start until after the fair, wellness committees 6-week health challenge starts after the fair... I'm surprised they don't start school until after the fair. Luckily, I get to experience it first hand! It's the weekend of September 17-19 and I'll be volunteering at the hospitals "cabin." I hear its quite the experience. Apparently they have chicken races which basically involves small children chasing chickens. Hm...

Are there really 11 churches? -- As you drive into town, from either direction, a small brown sign with a white cross sitting on top greets you. This sign lists all 11 denominations of churches in Pomeroy, and for a town of almost 2,000, I consider that a lot. So, you'll never miss mass on Sunday because if you miss the service at one, you have ten others to choose from. Here's where I'd like to make a point, though. As most of you know, I’m not religious in the least bit and frankly, I avoid it at all costs. Now, I received full warning of the 11 churches situation and I won't deny my nerves regarding whether I'd be lured into some religious cult. Small town, lots of churches, middle of nowhere... uh, Jim Jones anyone? People take religion seriously here, and I absolutely respect that. But what's great is they don't force it on you like I anticipated. Sure I've been invited to join a church, but I kindly declined without incident. And when Mondays come around no one asks, "Did you go to church?" Phew…

Does is smell funny? -- Actually, on some days it does. You see, I’m literally surrounded by wheat fields. Literally everywhere. Coming from the northeast, it’s hard to wrap your head around this concept. The first time I actually stepped foot on Pomeroy territory, I noticed the smell of grain first. I think the scent of yeast best describes it. And when you go into Lewiston, the smell of pulp overtakes you on certain days -- all depending on the weather and work schedule. You kind of get used to it.

Are there trees to hug? -- Barely. Now when I say the land ripples like the result of dropping a rock in water, I mean it. The rolling hills go up and down like roller coaster and you can see for miles and miles, mostly because trees don’t obstruct your view. Now there are some pines and other variations, but nothing like New England. The landscape looks more like the grass when we’ve had a heat wave and no rain for a few weeks. Very dry and hay colored. Also, I may not have experience Chicago wind, but it gets wicked windy out here! I mean, when I rode up to the Alpowa summit, I nearly blew over on my bike. 

What’s the highway like? -- Well, it’s no Mass Pike or 93 in Boston. Actually, it’s hard to define call it a highway. Traffic is hardly an issue unless you get stuck behind an 18-wheeler or tractor. Going into Pomeroy by the east, the speed limit changes from 60 mph to 40 mph to 45 mph  to 55 mph to 35 mph to 25 mph. Talk about bipolar, poor Edward. 

Do people actually go out on Main Street? -- Yes, it’s quite the bustling place during the week. Tons of cars passing through and people walking the streets. Things to know: Coffee shops exist in hardware stores. The Soggy Bottom officially reopened. Rumor has it there’s a liquor store in the flower shop. Lots of antique stores and bed and breakfast places. The library has DVDs and Inter-Library Loan (ILL… score!).

So I hope this answers some of your questions… and don't worry, people are normal and just like New Englanders except more outdoorsy and laid back. 

Beware of squirrels.

Now, I consider nothing better than spending a Saturday afternoon cruising around on Celeste and discovering new territory. With plenty of land to cover, I decided to check out the trails along the Snake River in Clarkston, WA and Lewiston, ID. I first stopped by Michele's so she could bring me down to the best parking spot and give me an idea of where to go. To preface, the trails along the Snake River almost identically match those beside the Cape Cod Canal -- relatively flat with a few hills and paved. She informed me I could access both sides by simply crossing either bridge as it has it's own bike lane -- pretty rad, I know. Ready to go, we said good-bye and parted ways. Setting off, I could feel my mind releasing itself and begin to slow, preparing to take in the new scenery I now call "home." As I rode along, the first thing I felt came from the sky -- the sun beat down on me and instantly I regretted not wearing my tank jersey. You see, the one thing I immediately caught onto about the west that parallels the east coast is the fluctuating weather patterns. You can wake up in the morning with the temperature around 55 degrees, then two hours later you find yourself ripping your layers off because the thermometer now reads 80 degrees. I am grateful for the lack of humidity, though! I find describing the landscape here quite difficult, the uniqueness of its beauty astounds me and often leaves me speechless. Anyways, I made my way down the path and came across a beach. Hold the phone. A beach?! Yes, you read correctly. No, it was nothing compared to the sand dunes and ocean you’re probably envisioning, but more like a 4-foot wide “sand” bar alongside the river. Regardless, I enjoyed the attempt. I rode past campsites filled with families sitting in camp chairs. Again, the familiar contrast of the golden hills and bright blue sky surfaced as I made my way into Hells Canyon State Park… and then the adventure began. Without much warning, the paved trail I had casually been coasting on abruptly came to a halt and lead to dirt road. Thinking I merely had to go down the road a ways and I would find myself back on the pavement, I continued. I looked around, and out of the corner of my eye I sighted a trail. Score! I made my way up the still dirt road and then before I could react, my tire sunk and I could go no further except onto the ground below me. I hit quite the pocket of sand. I began laughing. For the record, I haven’t fell off my bike with my clip-in shoes since the first 3 months of using them -- about 4 years ago. I decided that now would be the appropriate time to walk up the hill towards the path, and when I reached the path, disappointment overcame me. It was gravel. No way. I turned around and headed back on the path, deciding to go on the Clarkston side of the river. I made my way across the bike lane portion of the bridge without incident. When suddenly, and completely out of nowhere, a squirrel jets out in front my tire… within inches of committing squirrel-suicide! Startled, and again laughing, I had a feeling my bike ride would not be boring. I road to Asotin (pronounced like a Assonet and Stoughton, minus a few syllabus) and when the trail faded, I turned back. I saw a girl, probably around 4 years old, riding her bicycle with training wheels with her Mom. As I sped by, I heard her say, “I want to be like her!” Trying to hold back tears, a smile erupted. A ways down the path, I decided to dismount from my bike and take a stretch. After a few minutes, I got back on and “cling.” I stood up to investigate. A small rectangular piece of metal lie on the ground. I picked it up and attempted to figure out where it came from. With nowhere on my bike I could logically place it, I picked up my foot and realized it came off my cleat. Somehow the screw came loose… and it looked like I had a screw loose when I tried finding it! Luckily some cyclists road by, noticed my confusion, and kindly helped retrieve the screw. I continued riding since my shoe was secure enough I could do so, and came across another dilemma, how do I get across the second bridge? The “blue bridge” had no special bike on-ramp and somehow I found myself in the Costco parking lot. Clearly I made a wrong turn, so I managed to get on the sidewalk that went over the bridge and I ignored the sign that read, “Bicycling prohibiting on sidewalk.” When I got to the other side, I faced another situation, getting to the opposite side of the road. The busy, and confusing, intersection forced me to put my thinking cap on over my helmet. Needless to say, I made it to the bike trail, but not without nearly wiped out on the train tracks. And then, the geese! At least 20 just completely clogging traffic on the trail. I inched closer and they finally waddled out of the way enough for me to pass. After 24-ish miles, I finally reached my car with dirt and sweat covering my body. I opened the trunk and laid out and made some phone calls since I had service. Then, a man comes over and says, “Hey, looks like you got a bit of a problem here, huh?” Clearly confused, I walked over and noticed the front tire of my bike was completely flat. I could only laugh at this point and confess it had not been flat when I got off. So, with my screw-less shoe and flat tire, I called it a day for outdoor activities. 

Palouse Falls, La Crosse, Washington

This weekend, my new friend, Kate (great name, huh?) and I spent the day hiking around Palouse Falls and camped out at Lyons Ferry. Definitely a lot of fun and amazing scenery. Canyons, which were carved from floods that occurred a very long time ago from melting glaciers, surround the falls. We managed to see just about every vantage point, from the top (literally) of the falls all the way to the complete front on perspective. Quite incredible. 

Well, water* you doing? (*what are)

You're probably wondering, "Gee, KFo drove across country to some desolate place in the middle of the palouse, had a mild panic attack, lives in a place with no internet or cell phone service... what's going on?!" Amazingly enough, last night when I came home Jeremy (Suzanne's daughter's boyfriend), who happens to know a thing or two about computers, fixed the wireless fiasco! So I'm proudly sitting at the dining room table, connected to the rest of the world -- not just to the deer, gigantic beetle-like creatures, and lack of trees to hug. Onto the good stuff. The last few days have, entailed a great deal of briefing on what my position actually involves. My work calendar has found itself filling quickly with meetings and other appointment, and my desk now fully represents me. Needless to say, they're keeping me busy! My position at the Pomeroy Medical Clinic, technically entitled "Community Health Promoter", will deal with initiating the Health Home Strategic Plan. In the past year, the hospital received a grant to fund this project and partnered with the Washington Health Foundation campaign to make Washington the healthiest state in the nation (I'd like to say Massachusetts ranked 5 overall in 2008-ish). So, the Health Home encompasses more than just an individuals personal medical history, but broadly covers the community one lives in, socioeconomic status, and environmental factors which clearly impact health. From my general understanding, this project has been in the works for several years now at Garfield County Hospital as they try to pioneer the rural health system into encouraging their patients, healthy and those with chronic diseases, to be active in their health outside of the doctors office. They developed the Health Home website (http://www.healthhome.us) to provide the community a general location to locate information relevant to their health conditions. Overall, they want people to have a grasp on how to achieve a healthy lifestyle and know what’s out there for them. I will basically be doing some research on those with chronic conditions, specifically diabetes and cardiovascular conditions, and assessing their needs. I’ll develop a “game plan” workbook so they have an organized place to manage their health. Along with this, I’ll be making a “play book” which will list all the health related resources in the community, this will be distributed to everyone in Pomeroy. Eventually, they hope to span out to all chronic diseases and eventually preventative health, so identifying at-risk individuals and treated them early. I anticipate doing some patient teaching and community education, along with many other tasks to make this initiative get into action. Note: this is very general and loose description because, well, it’s the weekend. Hopefully it makes a little bit of sense. Needless to say, the hospital hopes to complete this project in the next 3-5 years… so as many people have told me, I’ve got a lot of work to do in 10 months! I must say, I am very excited to be on board with this project. They make me feel very official and emphasis the importance of my position and how much it will make a difference to those in the community, as well as making the hospital a pioneer in rural healthcare. So, I am prepared to “Get Things Done for America!” Go AmeriCorps! 

Hey, Mustard! Would you like to ketchup? (8/30-9/1)

The day had come. Reality arrived saying, “Hello, Kate. Today you begin your new life.” Our day started with getting things done for Edward. Being 1,000 miles over an oil change and since the Volvo dealership in Spokane had no openings, I decided to get it over with at Jiffy Lube -- bad life decision! Needless to say, I did not get an oil change and they certainly did not do anything for me when it came to getting me inspired about going to Pomeroy. “You’re going where?! For what?!” Feeling officially defeated and facing the tormenting reality of bringing my brother to board a plane to a place I wish I could return to, panic struck. “I need to escape” kept racing through my head. “There’s no way I can go back there! It’s so isolated! How will I survive? What if the people are weird?” These thoughts made me feel manic and, frankly, I began thinking I had gone crazy for making a decision such as this. As we approached Spokane International Airport, the waterfall erupted and poured onto the surface of my brothers shoulder shielded by a t-shirt embellished with some witty saying. Yet despite my impending doom in the foreground, my racing thoughts, and blurred vision, I noticed something I nearly forgotten -- my brother. I felt the closeness we seemed to depart from over the past few years and I knew his presence was more than just a living body. He told me how proud he was of me and knew I could get through this because he watched me grow into a strong, independent woman -- capable of overcoming any feat. He also assured that he would be on the next flight back to drive me home if needed. And when I later told him I missed him, he kindly informed me that those feelings would probably fade soon. For those few minutes, I redeveloped the respect, love, and bond with my brother I felt I detached from. Needless to say, if I gain nothing from this AmeriCorps experience, at least I can share it openly with Jay and have these new memories together. Now, the drive to Pomeroy. Well, grueling and dramatic appropriately describe that adventure! I pulled off the highway to fill up my gas tank and stayed there awhile longer debating how I could escape. My mind rationalized a plan, “Okay. I’ll drive there. I won’t unpack my car and say I’ll do it the next day. Then, if I can’t last, I’ll just leave and drive to Seattle, down the west coast, then back home!” This comforted me enough to continue driving to Pomeroy, and with a little help from my girl Fergie and the Black Eyed Peas, I made it. Being honest, and very open about my feelings and emotions, I called Michele (the woman in HR who has done so much for me since she called for the initial interview) along the way to let her know I would be arriving soon and I did not feel good… at all… about going. She comforted me and informed me she would most likely get there later than me, but they expected me at the hospital. Well, I drove around the town a bit and went into Pomeroy Foods (the local grocery store… about the size of the produce aisle at Shaws) and bought a banana and grapefruit juice because I hadn’t ate since the granola bar on our hike in Mount Spokane. I forced about a quarter the banana and gave up, so I went into the hospital, unsure what would lie behind the doors. I went to the front desk and introduced myself. “Oh! You’re Kate! It’s so great to have you here!” said the receptionists. This became a common theme. As I met Jeff, one of my supervisors, and we wandered through the hospital and eventually to the clinic, everyone knew me. I managed to keep my emotions in check and the more I met people, the better I felt, however this did cause my indecisive side to kick in. I met my host family-of-one, Suzanne, and later Michele came. Everyone inquired about my travels west and my story of life on the east coast. Michele took me on a mini tour of town and immediately I felt a connection. I knew I could express myself truly with her and felt comfortable doing so. She brought me to the library and invited me to the book club when she discovered I enjoyed reading. Most importantly, she emphasized if I had any concerns or worries to let her know immediately. This was exactly what I needed to hear. We departed with plans to meet on Tuesday and she would show me around some more and meet others in the hospital. When I returned to the clinic, Suzanne and I left soon after to get groceries for dinner and then headed home. She grew up in Pomeroy and her family farms locally, and is a very kind and hospitable woman. We arrived at her house, a few miles out of town, and she showed me to my room. Nervous as we descended into the basement, relief struck when I saw the large window. I have my own space with a bathroom and living area. Quicker than I anticipated, my things suddenly went from the car to my new room. I went to bed soon after dinner, without unpacking much of anything far from the necessities. I woke in tears. Frantically I ran from one corner of the house to the other, through the yard and almost desperately up the hill to find service on my cell phone. Nothing. I weepingly dialed home on the landline and spoke to my Mom. She urged me to simply come home, I didn’t have to stay. Yet something inside me grounded me and I wouldn’t budge. The reactions from the individuals I met the day prior reminded me why I chose to join AmeriCorps -- to follow my passion of serving others. I knew I merely needed time to adjust and I simply was overwhelmed with the drastic change. Part of me really liked it in Pomeroy, and I had not met one person I questioned their motives or left with an unsettling feeling in my stomach. Later, my Dad jogged my memory to the obvious fact that I am so used to being active and since I’m in a new place with nothing to do, I needed to do something! So, I followed this advice and ventured downtown to get a P.O. Box and there I realized what a small, rural community means. The woman working behind the counter quickly recognized I was the girl the hospital tried finding housing for. Another man, who I soon found out is the husband of one of the NP’s I work with, left and came back in saying, “So you’re Kate? I kind of figured because of your license plate.” I never experienced anything like this before. I left and decided to walk down the Main Street to see what the stores had to offer. Inside Meyer’s Hardware, a coffee shop! I had a delicious coffee-something-or-other, not quite sure what exactly I drank. I decided to see Michele and, again, she introduced me to more people. I kept feeling better and better as the day proceeded and she took me to the Umatilla National Forest, about 15 miles out of town. She invited me to dinner at her house and recited a laundry list of individuals I should meet. I accepted her invitation and figured I would check out “the Valley”, and no, not the latest MTV reality TV show, but the combination of towns, Lewiston and Clarkston. My confidence regaining speed, I hit a high when I saw the green circle with a strangely shaped mermaid in the center and the white letters “Starbucks Coffee” encircling her. “Okay, I can do this.” I thought, and when I entered and discovered their pumpkin spice lattes were back, I confirmed this. I got on my laptop and excitedly connected to the free wi-fi, another additional confidence booster (I’m currently without internet at the house I’m staying at -- hence lack of blogging). I had an excellent dinner at Michele’s, the first real meal I consumed all day. Again, my positive thoughts gradually returned and my smile came back. And for the record, I still have not met one person that greeted me with unwelcoming arms. I tossed and turned all night, excited for my first day at work. I woke without fear and felt more at ease. The day consisted of the typical orientation paperwork and I eventually ended up at the clinic where I began putting together my desk. Yes, I have my own desk with a computer and phone; I even have my own work e-mail! Very official, I know. They even bought a big smiley face balloon and plant, with a “Welcome Kate” note. The day progressed and I realized more that I made the right choice to try out Pomeroy. I feel at home now and attribute the easy transition to Michele, Suzanne, and the others kind hearted individuals in this unique city. I ended up riding Celeste down to the hospital after work for the board meeting. Wow, these roads surely are a great change from the pot hole ridden streets of Massachusetts. Nicely paved, except steeply graded, I embraced the wind as I broke through it. On the ride home, I rode alongside a perfect sky darkening behind the rising hills of golden wheat as I said to myself, “Oh deer, I love it here.” Ironically, I found myself racing deers galloping throughout the fields on the roadside at the same time. A perfect conclusion to a difficult, but reassuring, few days. To clarify, I feel 100% better than at the beginning of this long, drawn out blog entry, and am very excited to begin my work. 

August 29, 2010 -- Welcome to Washington.

Once again, I am blown away by the west. Like every other morning, we began the day with an adventure to the local coffee shop, and today I found myself speechless when we entered “Liquid Planet.” Let me begin by saying, you should really check out their website to learn more about their mission. There you will also find what they sell besides coffee in the store. They go beyond the typical sundry of flavored coffees and loose leaf teas and offer a vast selection of beer, wine, and sodas (and no, not pepsi). Did I also mention they have 4, yes 4, different types of chai? Once I composed myself, I ordered myself a tiger tulsi chai and a raspberry scone. Both surpassed anything I ever tasted on the east coast. Things keep looking better and better, I tell you, I seriously love it here. This love continued to grow fonder as we drove the remaining few hundred miles to Washington. Unfortunately I found myself behind the wheel as we drove into the mountains of northern Montana and Idaho, and you can imagine the strength it took me to stay on the road. Idaho certainly took my by surprise, however. I always just assumed Idaho to have potatoes and flat land. Well you know what happens when you assume… We finally passed the body of water for all those people with boats we constantly saw driving past us pondering where exactly they have water activities. At last, we finally reached our destination. A “Welcome to Washington” sign tucked away in the median of the highway, and barely visible, greeted us. Since we made great timing, we arrived only a little past noon so after I spotted a sign for the Mount Spokane State Park, I decided hiking to be a necessity. As we pulled off the exit and past the shopping areas, we finally saw a glimpse of Washington’s golden wheat fields. The contrast of the blue sky with yellow from the fields brightened not only the picturesque view, but my spirit. The winding back country roads to the state park ignited my desire to explore the area more and more. As we pulled into the parking area for the trail head, we began reading the postings to beware of moose, cougars, and black bears. Welcome to Washington! I could sense my mood deteriorating, potentially due to driving and nerves, and, as always, a little nature cures all. Jay and I had an amazing hike and I felt after the whole trip we really solidified our relationship. With such an age difference, 12 years if you didn’t know, we always have been on different pages in our lives. Although these past few years have certainly had their bumps in the road, I am so grateful to have such a loving and supportive brother like Jay. I know I made the correct decision when I chose/asked/told him to drive with me across the country and I do not regret that decision. I especially realized the importance of having him when we ventured south to Pomeroy so he could see why he drove 3,000 miles. As we made our way south and away from civilization I could my emotions began to stray and my strength weaken -- where am I going? Soon, all you could see were miles upon miles of golden rolling wheat fields, its color vivid against the blue sky. With my eyes wide open and the anxiety increases as I anticipated the “Welcome to Pomeroy” sign, we finally arrived. Reality. Is this really it? My first reaction, “uh, shit. What did I get myself into. The google man lied!” (excuse my French). The 2 minute drive to get from one side of town to the other demolished my spirit. As we turned around and I begged to return to Spokane, back to people, buildings, traffic, real life, the breakdown ensued. My fearless mind quickly become flooded with a hurricane of negative emotions. “I can’t” became my new mantra that repeated in my head like a record skipping. I could not hold the tears in anymore and my brother kindly stepped up to the plate to handle his emotional distraught sister. He comforted me and I felt a connection with him that I hadn’t in some time. I managed to pull myself together enough to make it back to Spokane, knowing that in 12 hours he would be on a flight home and I would officially be on my own. Frantically calling my parents, I explained what I saw and they urged me to try it out before I judge it and if it doesn’t work out, then it’s not meant to be. I felt much more at ease and at last found myself able to sleep.