So. Summer.

Yep, it is.

I wish I could be more enthusiastic about it. As it is at the moment, though, the warm temperatures are making my apartment more than a little unlivable. That in turn makes sleeping pretty darned difficult, which you know isn't great for me at the best of times. Monday night? Didn't sleep. AT ALL. To the point where I had a may-as-well-watch-latenight-television moment, because it was pretty danged obvious that nothing else would be happening anytime soon.

Last night was better, but I'm still dealing with a splitting headache.

And a fairly rotten mood, from the sounds of it.

Ah well, I'll live. It's not exactly the first time that summer's put me in a snit, after all.

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One thing that summer definitely does is change my work emphasis. Did my last round of school programs last week, and now it's on to a bit more public programming and working on the weekends. With that comes a bit more of acting like a supervisor, since I actually get to see the weekend staff rather than just communicating with them by memo.

You wouldn't think that a nature centre would get so office-y, but it does have its moments. Thankfully most of the weekend staff also does school programming, so I at least I get to catch up with them that way. At any rate, the next few weeks will consist of me being senior staff around here on Saturdays and Sundays.

So there's that.

There's what, exactly?

There's... that. Things are pretty casual at the Centre so it's not like I have to gear up to pretend to be the boss much, but I'll still be doing a few more boss things than I do for most of the year.

Hopefully I'll be doing a bit more drawing, too, but that really has nothing to do with what I was typing about.





Which probably indicates that my brain is done thinking about what I was typing about, don't you think?






Yeah.  I love it when my posts just completely fizzle out.

Blame summer. I do.

Take your kid outside

The pointless photo? Well, sometimes I just feel like mucking about with my more mediocre shots, that's all. Call this one Iris Assaulted By Photoeditor.

Still, the shapes are kind of neat. Aren't they?

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Ok, topic. The post title is referring to a phrase that's kind of become a buzzword in interpretation lately, to the point where I kind of find it annoying. For anyone outside of my insular naturalist world, the whole thing more or less came about with Richard Louv and what he called "nature-deficit disorder". The gist of it (for my purposes, at any rate) is that children who are disconnected from nature and the outdoors are less healthy -- both physically and mentally -- in their day-to-day lives. Children who have unstructured play outside on a regular basis tend to be better adjusted in life as a whole.

Ok, yeah. Sounds reasonable. But when you're hearing it over and over again as kind of a rallying cry, it can get to be a whatever topic in a hurry.

That is, until you see it in action.

I usually work with elementary school children (that'd be about ages 4 - 12, for those who aren't familiar with the North American school system). This past week, however, I had a few groups of teenagers. I don't always look forward to teenagers, partly because they're hitting the stage where it's natural for them to test their boundaries with adults, and partly because most of them are taller than me. It's funny, but the height thing doesn't generally bother me with adults. With kids, though, it's undeniable that height subliminally conveys a certain amount of authority.

Um, anyway.

Teenagers towards the end of the school year when everyone's ready to just stop listening and get the hell out of Dodge? Sounds like trouble. But... I really got a different dynamic this week. Instead of yeah, right, Nature Girl, I found myself with good listeners who asked fantastic questions. Even the group I was expecting to be extremely difficult got into things a fair bit once we were out on the trail.

So what happened? Am I just that good at holding an audience? Well, my ego and I would like to say yes, but I think a big part of it was that the kids were really happy to be outside. They've been indoors all term, they're finishing their exams, and this gave them a chance to go out, enjoy the day (I was lucky to have some pretty decent days for the programs), and learn something about nature. Yes, I was still teaching, but not in the structured you-have-to-learn-this way we expect kids to deal with. And did they get something out of it?

I genuinely think that they did. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, anyway.

Interesting to see the outdoor theory in practice, in any case.




So, the moral? Well, not to get high-horsey or anything, but how about if I just give you a little nudge to encourage your children to drop the computers and video games for a while now and then and find out what's going on outside? Give them some unscheduled time. Not everything has to be filled up with lessons, teams, and homework. Something as simple as that could help create a happier person in the long run, and it sure as heck isn't going to hurt them any.





She says, while typing on a computer in the basement.

Maybe I should go practice what I preach...

Long day. But good.

Why yes, anemone, I'm feeling just about that droopy. Spent the day doing programs for a couple of schools in my old home town. I've been on my feet way too long, and I can guarantee you that when I try to get out of bed tomorrow the ankle will not want to work. I'm not looking forward to that part.

Still, though.

It's been an interesting week. Busy, like I said, but it was also a week of unusual feedback. Unusual in that A) I don't generally get quite so much feedback from programs, and B) it was pretty darned positive.

Oh, that last one sounded wrong. I meant to say that the little bit of feedback I usually get is often good, but to get a lot of good feedback at once? Well, it can make a person feel decent about herself.

Now Dee, do you think you can handle that?

Oh yeah. No worries. I'll find something else to be negative about soon enough, so may as well enjoy the I'm good at this moment while I can.

You see, I am good at the job. I've been doing it a long time, I have lots of information to offer, and I'm good at getting it across. I can also think on my feet after all these years, so if things need to change direction they can. All positive things. Like anyone, though, I can find it too easy to get bogged down in the things that I'm NOT good at. Just as an example (and a quick one, because I want to wait at least a weekend before I go back to bogged down), it always seems like people are phoning up the Centre with the one nature question you can't answer. The fact is, there's no way a person can know everything. I know that very well. It still doesn't help the moment of useless you feel when someone stumps you, however. I've been doing this for twenty years -- how could I possibly not know the answer to that one?

Ah well. There'll be time enough for that over the summer, as there always is. For now, though, I would like you all to know that over the past week I've been told I'm

• A good storyteller (luckily, I was actually telling stories at the time)
• Very knowledgeable
• Fun (yes, someone really told me I was fun. Who knew?)
• Good with the kids
• Working at a cool job.

And you know what? I am. And it's good to have one of those now I remember why I do this weeks every now and then. Not too often, I suppose, or a person would get full of herself. But, say, once a season?



I'd be totally fine with that.

Well, this has been a week

And it's not even over yet.

Programs and programs, since the teachers are aiming to get their stir-crazy kids out of the classroom for a bit this time of year.

That's a lot of programs for someone who hasn't been sleeping much. Good thing that I've gotten to the point in my career where I have enough stuff stored in my brain that I can usually throw something together even when I can't make myself think. Last night was a bit better on the sleep front, finally, because my brain apparently imploded on itself. Or the gears got completely stuck, or the hamster fell off of the wheel, or something. Whatever it was led to unconsciousness for a few hours, and all I can say is that it's about bloody time.

Tomorrow? Two programs in my old home town, which ought to be interesting since one is for a group I've never programmed before on a trail that I haven't been on in years.

Maybe I should go for a walk tonight?

Ah, we'll see if I have any energy at all for it after the week I've had.

It's been a week, did I mention?




And it's not even over yet...

Pointless photo of the day:

Still busy.

Still tired.

Thought you deserved some flowers, though. For your patience, of course.

Later.

Sorry, Charlie

It's been a long programming day, and I'm operating on way too little sleep. I mean waaay too little.

All of this, of course, translates to no post today. And possibly tomorrow, too, since it'll be another busy day.



See you when I see you.

Form

Yeah, I know that the doodles usually land on the other blog (see Other Blog on the sidebar if you're curious. I'm too lazy to link today). There's a roundabout reason why this one is here instead, however, and I may even eventually get to it. First, though:

It's Jimsonweed, which gets the more highfalutin' name of Angel Trumpet when it's planted in a garden. The flowers are pretty. The plant? Poisonous and strongly (and dangerously) hallucinogenic. Only the extremely stupid would attempt it. I hope, at least.

The drawing took me about fifteen minutes. I was aiming for just line without shading, and I was also trying for speed. Not too bad, all things considered, but I still need to work on being a bit freer with the pen.

Hmm. The word freer looks just plain wrong typed out, you know?

The reason I chose that particular plant as today's subject was the shape. The form. A good, strong form that leads to some easy inferences about the plant's possible pollinators.

Ok, ok, only if you happen to be a nerd biologist, I suppose.

As a nerd biologist (and in general, really), I tend to get caught up in forms. You see, the neat thing about the forms of living things that haven't been completely mucked about with by being overbred by humans to look different is that shapes can tell you a lot about what those living things do. In the case of plants, how they pollinate or keep from being overgrazed. In the case of animals, how they live their lives. What they eat, what they're hunted by, what they have to do to make more animals... it's all there in the forms. If you know something about forms and how they work, you can make some pretty good educated guesses about any living thing's function in the ecosystem. Or the world, come to it. Yes, boys and girls, a bit of knowledge of comparative anatomy can be an important step in trying to understand how the world works.

Which leads me to dissection.





Yes, seriously.

I have a zoology degree, which can be partially translated as: I've cut up a fair number of dead things in my time. Now, some of you will be completely grossed out by that. Ok, I get how people could feel that way. Some of you, though, will be completely offended instead. Some of you may be offended to the point where you'd feel like dousing me with red paint, calling me a murderer, and asking me how I can reconcile the deaths of those animals with the study of life that my mammalian ecology background supposedly promotes.

I don't have a lot of respect for that kind of knee-jerk reaction, to be honest. And I could sit here and patiently explain why, but if you're the type who has that reaction it's not going to make a bit of difference anyway, so I don't think I'll bother wasting my time or yours. I will say this, however:

• If you want to try to save something, you have to try to understand it. Otherwise you're just going off half-cocked and you may do more harm than good.
• Sometimes to understand things, you have to dig deeper than you might expect. And sometimes you have to study aspects that, on the surface, may seem to have little relation to the main topic. That type of study can get messy, but without it you can't move any further. Example? Well, how do you suppose that scientists figured out our pets' nutritional needs so that we could go to the store and buy properly balanced foods for them? Years ago a pet cat wasn't expected to live more than ten years (if that). Scientists discovered that cats couldn't produce an essential nutrient that most mammals make for themselves. Cats depend on their prey for it instead. Add the nutrient to the food; cats are suddenly living longer, healthier lives. But you can bet that the discovery itself didn't come from simply offering cats a bunch of different foods and seeing which ones they liked better. Oh, and google taurine if you think that I'm making this up.
• To understand forms, how they work, and their importance, there is never going to be a true substitute for hands-on discovery of the real thing. I can tell you first-hand that even the best scientific illustrations can never show you the real life view. The worst ones can be dangerously misleading. Would you really want a surgeon who'd only ever looked at pictures and simulations and had never touched a cadaver?

Now, having said that (and this is all just to get something out of my system. I got really annoyed by a particular television a--hole the other day. More annoyed than I should have, I know, but ignorance shouted loudly is one of my huge pet peeves in life), do I think that every high school student should be up to his or her elbows in formalin and pickled guts? Hell, no. I did dissections in high school biology like a lot of you did, and it was a massive waste of time. Oh yeah, it was interesting for me, but I could have got the same thing from watching a decent video or (nowadays) using a good computer simulation. I don't believe that anyone who isn't going on to further studies in biology has any reason to need to cut up a fetal pig, or even an earthworm for that matter. From my memories of Biology 10, dissection days were mostly just an excuse for teenage girls to act attractively squeamish for the boys, and for teenage boys to tease each other with assorted parts of dead animals. Even for those of us who were interested in the actual subject, the specimens and resources usually weren't good enough to get much out of, and the shrieking and giggling from the less-interested students was frustrating.

I'd almost go along with the paint-throwers when it comes to needless dissection in schools. Almost. I have no use for PETA and their overly-hysterical imitators for many other reasons that I won't go into now (a girl's gotta have lunch at some point, after all),  so I can't in the end condone screaming hissy fits from those types for anything.

And with that...

um...

This actually took a more preachy turn than I intended, especially since it started with a harmless drawing of a flower. Sorry about that. Still... aren't you glad I chose not to do a drawing of a half-dissected frog instead? I'll admit, I did consider it. And it's not like it would have been the first time I'd drawn a dissection, after all.

My life has been a bit odd? I'd give you that one, I guess.