Lesson 20: Curing Spring Fever

Taunting us from outside our window...

Jacque and I were moping around the office the other day, wondering why we were more unmotivated than usual. And then it hit us: we had spring fever, a BAD case of it. Not only had we been stuck working on projects that required us to be in the office rather than in the beloved field, but we had also just pushed our clocks forward giving us an extra hour of daylight. Yet here we were, trapped in the artificial light of the office. So we decided to do something about it. We vowed that the next day we would spend our lunch hour (also known as “Lunchingtons”) actually going OUTSIDE.

Murky waters

What a novel idea. Our office does, afterall, sit right on the shore of Lake Bently, a little lake that we had completely taken for granted as it stared at us through our office windows for YEARS now.  While its water is more green than blue and its shoreline is highly developed with storm water drains jutting out every few hundred feet (it has a high LDI for any limnology nerds out there), it is home to birds, gators, fish, and even otters! So why not call it our home as well, at least for an hour?

Happy Jacque!

The excitement of our looming adventure got us through the morning grind, and at noon on the dot we grabbed our lunch (that Jacque had deliciously prepared) and our craigslist-purchased kayaks and off we slid into the murky waters. Within moments we were in another world. Just yards away stood our office building, staring back at us with its mirrored windows, hiding the sterile lights and jealous faces of our co-workers (actually, they probably just thought we were crazy). We paddled happily towards wood ducks and pelicans and ibises and limpkins and cormorants and ospreys and turtles and cypress trees and butterflies. We soaked up the sun and felt the breeze on our faces.

We returned to our offices 59 minutes later, refreshed and more than a little stinky. But we didn’t care. We had cured spring fever, at least for an hour. Do you have any tricks for curing spring fever? CWT would love to hear about it!

Chapter 5 – Reminder….that’s why they call them STICKS!! Duh. Part I

That’s why they call them sticks – duh! You stick them places….well, that’s what I say to remind me not to repeat some errors of days long gone. When we first began going out into the wilderness, we were carefree. Some of us (whose name will remain secret) put our hands into holes, reached into the mud, sat down anywhere, grabbed tree limbs, and generally ruled the land! Life was good.

Stick you hand here....NO!

I grew up near the woods. We camped and hiked. We spent some time on rivers and oceans, boats and in tents. I had a pretty good life in creeks and woods. I know some things that keep you from losing a finger. It doesn’t hurt that I am the eldest of three girls. Of all the dads in all the lands, my dad needed sons. He fished, cursed, smoked and drank and was a fun-loving guy who peed outside and spits.

He was also a painter, musician, singer and lover of all things science and anything that lived. He taught me how to fish before I learned to ride a bike. He taught me how to fight and how to stand up for myself. He also taught me the names of trees and flowers. He taught me how to solve problems and fix things. He taught me about magnets, atoms, and pyramid power….most importantly in this case – he taught me about snakes.

My dad showed me all kinds of snakes. I got sent to the principal’s office in kindergarten for taking a ring-necked snake to school in a baby food jar. So, it only stands to reason that dad also taught about how to avoid them, where they hide, how they behave, what ones were nasty little poison bearers.

Imagine my surprise when waltzing through the woods with someone who puts their hands everywhere!!! She reached into places I might not even put a good stick! I was shocked. This had to stop. I took it upon myself to find a tool….it just so happened that the office had a couple of cases of yard sticks. They had been purchased as marketing items long ago and were never used….they were slightly inaccurate. We began using them in the field to poke places.

This began the era of the field sticks. The era that would define us, cost us many arguments, make us tape their handles and mourn their losses….this is their story really.