The Ants Went Marching All The Way Down To The Ground

The most recent excitement at the library has been our newly acquired pets - Western Harvester Ants. We received them in the mail and Carolyn and I awkwardly filled the farm with sand. It was a frustrating task to funnel the sand into the small slit on the top of the farm. After getting most of it in (scattering much on the counter) I shook it like an etch a sketch to fill the bottom half. Just as it all filled, the bottom fell out and the dirt along with it onto the countertop.

Take two. As we finished, a patron came in and seeing our obvious discomfort at flicking the ants "which may sting" into the dirt trap, assisted us. Another paper funnel was made and the ants were flicked and scooped and placed into their plastic farm.

The fascination of living, crawling things in an atmosphere of lifeless books, greatly attracted us. "Look how quickly those ones are moving!" "Here are some carrot crumbs," "Oh why are there so many dead ones?" The fascination became our ruin. The more we interfered, the more they curled up dead. We were fearful that the dead ones would... potentially frustrate the live ones, so we put double-sided tape to one end of a plastic stick and I personally pulled out at least nine dead ants. Satisfied, we determined to let them be. Until....

"Why are they not tunneling? It's been a day and the pamphlet says that they should be tunneling by now."

"Leave them be, let's see what happens."

"Google it."

"Some sites say sugar water should do the trick." So the sugar water was added. At first, it greatly delighted us to see them giddy over the sugar water. All of them collected on the sugary damp sand, then none of them moved. "Do you think they're dead?"

"Probably not, let's just wait and see."

"No they're all dead! They're not moving! Oh wait, that ones moving, but it's so slow! Are they dead do you think? Do you think we killed them?"

And the ants went marching one by one to drum of death call. One was left. Then we did intentionally kill that one. The dirt was poured out. The ants extracted. And a new batch ordered.

"Don't touch them at all! Let's let them be."

And we shall see.

"It's a surprise, You love surprises..."

TJ had just finished unloading my raised garden bed into my backyard (it is an old water trough and roughly the size of a love seat), when he pulled out a small silver case and an extension cord from his car. He had a strange smirk on his face when he asked me to pull up one of my outdoor chairs.

"A cord, a case, and a chair.... I'm not connecting the dots TJ. What are you doing?"

"Not me, you're doing it." Sly smile getting bigger.

"What is it that I'm doing?" He opened the case to reveal a set of clippers and razors. "Your hair?! I can't cut your hair!" I had been asking if he would let one of our friends cut his hair while she taught me, to which he had been very reluctant. 

"This is what you wanted, so here we go!"

"No, this isn't at all what I said! I have to learn first!" Well, my freaking out did not do much. He assured me that all I was giving him was a buzz cut - even all the way around. I watched a short Youtube video, then ever so slowly began to razor my way through his mop of brown hair. Though it was slower than the barber in the video, and though there are short hairs that are difficult to catch, I finished. He looked very handsome as the mustache also came off, though I worried that I was cutting it too short and making him bald. "That's nature, not you." 

He said I did an excellent job and that he would allow me to do it again. I think I am overly confident now though, because I hope the next one will be an actual haircut, and not just a buzz. 

Look at that curly top!

I couldn't help myself..

Handsome face!

The mustache had not yet come off. 

Flowers

I just love them. I know women who don't, but I absolutely do. I cannot fathom not loving them. There are definitely some that do not smell good, but they are still (for the most part) very pleasing to look at. Or pick from the dozens of ones that DO smell good.

This week I was pressed to take three bouquets of peonies. I brought one to work and the other two fill my home with their sweet fragrance. Previously it was lilacs, and before that hyacinths. I love walking into a florists, but I too often am persuaded by the flowers' cheerful colors and heavy fragrance and saddle myself with one or two plants.

I purchased a few bags of seeds. I say a few as in about ten. I have planted a few in the corner of my yard but have no great hopes for them. Should they bloom though, I will be absolutely delighted! I borrowed pots from the library and set them up with flowers around my little home. They seem to welcome me with their vibrant colors.

TJ left this weekend to go to a wedding that he is in (logistically it did not work for me to attend). Before he left, he gave me a single rose from the rose bushes at his house. It was wrapped in a damp paper-towel and in a ziploc bag. It was such a simple and thoughtful gesture.

It is a deep red rose with perfectly extended petals. 

I just love flowers. 

Jobs with Pottery Sherds Are the Best

It was a day when I was feeling especially thankful for my job. I don't believe I have ever had a job that I actually looked forward to as much as I do this one. There is always something to look forward to in any job, when you look for it, but I have got to have one of the best jobs there is. Every job can be as stressful as you make it, and I see that more clearly than ever when I find myself stressing out about my pretty-chill library job.

Well this day, I was drawing simple hieroglyphics on pottery sherds. It is for the kids to dig up on the first day of "Can You Dig It?" I think they look half-way decent.

Within the next couple of days the Fourth Expedition to Lachish will commence. Many of my Israeli and other friends will be there, and there is a part of my heart that aches for Israel. A total of seven weeks of my life, yet it has impacted me significantly. I learned so much on those two trips and they will forever be some of my favorite memories. I can't help but think how wonderful that God should place me here to do my own small, very different, expedition lasting just a bit longer than the Lachish expedition will.

Writing the hieroglyphics brought to memory one of the latest memories made there. My Coach, square supervisor, had been my Coach each year. When working with someone day in and day out, getting dirty and sweaty, there is a bond that is easily formed. We had the most united square that first year and were greatly attached to our "Coach Ilan." We formed a unique friendship my first trip as my square mates and I looked up to him and worked hard alongside him. That first year, he was called away in the reserves during the Gaza bombings. He came to say goodbye to us and we each felt the weight of his being called away. You can imagine my joy at being reunited to work underneath him the next year and to learn from him again. He is like a great bear. He has a very thick Israeli accent and the first year all he could manage to say to three girls each day was "level it." Every archaeologist's goal. As he became more comfortable, he told us stories. Stories about his wife, serving in the army, or other square supervisors. Since all we ever uncovered was dirt and boulders, it was always a joke among us that we would find the inscription with Rehoboam's name written on it.

Well, on the last day of my last year, along with the aid of my other Israeli friends (also square supervisors and studying archaeologists), I created a fake inscription. I wrote in sharpee marker because the crayon one I did looked too authentic at first glance. The level we were digging in would not have had ancient Hebrew, so I wrote out in ancient Hebrew - "To Coach Ilan, love your angels." I had taken, with permission, a scrap piece of pottery. Oftentimes inscriptions were written on scrap pieces of pottery. That last day, when he wasn't looking, I put the piece of pottery inscription side down. That was the first mistake. Anytime a piece of pottery is lying flat it could indicate a floor level. Which was exactly what we were hoping for. About the same time he discovered mine, he had just uncovered another broad piece lying flat on the ground. Two is better than one. The case and hope for a floor grew stronger. The Director (Yosi Garfinkel) came over and discussed this possibility and nodded and the indications. My face grew hot and I felt sick inside. Should they see that, they could think that it was real, then a forgery and what kind of trouble would I get in? They are now believing it to be a floor level and I have unintentionally deceived them! One of the most important things an archaeologist is to do is keep everything in situ, which is a fancy way of saying "in place." It is important so that proper documentation- photographing, graphing, and diagnosis can be taken. However, since I knew I had placed it there, I kept nudging it out of place with my shoe, hoping that he would give up with my clumsiness (which I am usually very careful) and turn it over, see the joke and laugh, with perhaps a tear in his eye at my thoughtfulness. But it was not to be. He continued to carefully put it back in its place. So distracted was I by my situation that I also accidentally kept knocking the other pottery sherd.

Finally I went to my friend Shifra and told her my dilemma. She came over to Ilan and looked at it with him and finally said, "Well pick it up already." Surprisingly, he did, but his reaction was the worst I could have expected. Seeing the writing, he was too excited to take into account the ancient Hebrew, and that it was sharpee marker. "Erin!" He exclaimed, "You will not believe this! Go get Yosi! Go get Igor!" I hesitated and looked at Shifra. Did he know it was a fake? She said, "No Ilan, read it." Then he realized. But rather than it being a sentimental gift as I meant it to be - he thought it was a joke, a mean one. Of course he laughed at it because he is too good-humored to get mad, but I felt horrible as I tried to explain that it was a gift. It took a while, but then we laughed about it together. Me at my unfortunate mistake, and him at his excitement.

Don't Look TOO Closely

I Couldn't Read that to you, I just copied it, so don't be impressed. But it does look pretty sweet right?

Hence the selfie - I wanted to document that I actually wrote it. 

Coach Ilan! He hates morning! "Aerin, there is noo gud morning."

Here he is being silly with another square supervisor Tal. They are hilarious together!

Well I just transported myself to another land and a previous chapter of my life. I am here in Montana now, making memories and new inscriptions.

The Grass is Green On This Side

My little blue house had been formerly neglected. The previous owners, I have been told by my landlord and neighbors, used the backyard as a dirt bike track.

 When I first arriver, it was February, and I had no great desire to spend any time in my yard, and it seemed perfectly adequate. Yet it all began one very windy Saturday. I went outside to clean up the many branches on the ground and the trash bag that had been torn open and its contents spread all across my lawn. As I did, I remembered the pile of garbage that was hidden in the corner. Conveniently for me, the dumpster is just behind my house. I threw away a rotting table, chairs, the old bathroom sink, and some random medal poles. I soon saw that the trash continued through layers of decaying leaves. I looked around and groaned. Much of the lawn was still covered in dead leaves. I thought that archaeologically, it truly was layer upon layer of human life, but this time, I wasn't amused.

No big deal, just rake them and throw them away. As I was cleaning out the leaves, I noticed that the trees were massively overgrown and growing through the fence, ruining it. Most of the time, I did not have the proper equipment and I just went for it. I borrowed a rake from TJ and slowly moved the leaves into the dumpster. But the piles were never decreasing and the dumpster seemed to fill up way too quickly. Many of the trees branches were dying and were easily uprooted. Some lashed back and clawed at me. It was an exciting fight. I yanked and stomped and sat on branches till they snapped. What a satisfying sound. I used to believe myself a tree-hugger, but not when it comes to defending your home and yard. Sometimes after work or a free weekend day,  I would rake, tear at branches and carry them all to the dumpster, the hardest part of clearing.

When the ground was cleared to satisfaction, I planted grass seed with no expectation of it successfully growing. I hadn't tilled the ground or put in fertilizer. TJ came over and we simply spread the seed and stamped on it. And I have watered it nearly every day.

It was past the time that the hardware store employee had told me that it would grow and there was no sign of life. I was disappointed, but not surprised. It was an improvement to not have layers of decaying leaves and basketballs on my lawn anymore! I have been doing what I can out of doors. I have not had great experience, wishing now that I had learned more from my Mom, but I have made little improvements. Free pots from the library's basement, a flower won at a luncheon, two bags of mulch on sale, small garden lights and soil and flowers on sale, old tires found behind the shed, an old chair found in the decaying pile, and small stones found at the ranch have all helped to bring change a bit of my little blue house's outward appearance.

Early February 

The layers of leaves and clustered branches in the corner.

The other corner and a pile of leaves and branches. 

TJ fixed the porch and was taking down the old screens. 

Trash from the shed, and the pruned branches.

Waiting patiently for food. 

Pot on the left - on loan from the library.

Birthday plants from Robyn!

Repurposed tires

Freshly mowed lawn! 

And what is this??

Then one glorious sunny day, I looked out and saw fuzzy green patches in my far back corner. Exactly where the worst had been. My grass was growing. Oh and those nasty trees? Lilacs - and what beautiful blooms they had!

Next job - paint the porch!