Saturday, January 9, 2010
2009
As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler; solitude will not be solitude, poverty will not be poverty, nor weakness weakness.
--Henry David Thoreau
The first half of 2009 is hard and hopeless. I am like a tower of blocks built too high, swaying, ready to tumble down unless someone reaches out to balance it and to start removing blocks until stable.
If something needs to be done, I do it. Egocentric as all humans, I expect others to do the same. When they don't I harbor resentment.
At this point, my life is anything but simple. I am a mother of two, masters degree student who works full time. At both home and work I have taken on too much.
At work, we lose the person who takes care of lunch. So I step in. Pick up lunch from another high school 10 miles away, set everything up, serve, clean everything up, and return the dirty dishes. Not only does this take time away from my regular duties it is dirty and physically hard to lift heavy bags of foods, and becoming a "lunch lady" physiologically damages me. Teachers help as much as they can, but we are so short staffed.
The janitors think a school only needs to be cleaned once per week. I do not like dirty places, and we are trying to recruit new students. So each morning I get to work early to vacuum, to clean tables, and to get away from home.
The economy is slow. Funding for education is cut and schools have a hiring freeze right when I am ready to apply for jobs. I apply for dozens of jobs all over the country. The one interview I land, the library director explains that he has 40 highly qualified applicants. The library field was overflowing with qualified applicants before the budget cuts, now jobs are few and far inbetween. I will graduate with a master's degree and I spend my time cleaning up after people.
Greg has no work. Time to work on the house, but no money. Time to work on other projects but no desire. The dark cold winter always brings him down. I am the stabilizer & motivator, but have no energy to play this role. I need his help, but when I return from my night class at 9:30 pm the kids still need help with their homework, the dishes are piled in the sink, and the house is a mess. I try to convince him that there are other ways to contribute to a family besides financially. We fight more in a few months than we have all the previous years of our marriage combined. We are hopelessly lost in the fog of discouragement.
Just at the point of scrounging coins to buy milk... we get a call from someone wanting to purchase artwork. Amazingly so in this slow economy when we haven't done any of the money required ways of promoting art that we have done in the past.
Just at the point of finding every excuse not to go home, Greg and the kids step up and start doing their share of the cooking and housework.
Just at the point of complete blindness in the dark of despair, the sun breaks free for an early spring. The bulbs, crocuses first, pop up their colors with the promise of warmth of renewed hope, and of perseverance. Spring flowers are a reminder to me of the forgotten beauty.
Slowly, Greg starts to line up jobs. When not working he finishes the utility/workroom and starts laying the stone veneer on the house. This is a labor intensive job that only requires the purchase of mortar. The mortar is mixed in a large tub with a hoe to the consistency of cake batter. It is good work to rid the body of despair. Outside in the fresh crispness of spring you create your own heat working every muscle: the arms, back, stomach, and legs in the mixing and lifting and the mind in the puzzle of fitting rocks together like a pattern. We start landscaping. Greg acquires cuttings from friends and jobs he does for others. To work in the dirt, to plant that seed or cutting which turns into a living thing of beauty is my healing pastime.
I do not find a librarian job, but work improves. A new janitor is hired. Someone else is assigned to pick up, set up, and clean up lunch. I teach one computer technology class in addition to my admin assist duties. I love teaching, even though I am spending many weekend hours in preparation creating lessons and grading. I enjoy seeing students progress and what they teach me. I enjoy the challenge of behavior management and the reflection of "what could I do better". I feel that I am playing a more valuable role than that of lunch lady and this improve my physiological outlook.
Money is still tight, but we have enough. We insulate the house with R-19 insulation in the walls and R-30 insulation in the ceiling. Then we start to sheet rock. Amazing how covering the walls makes progress seem vast and the end finally seem possible.
--Henry David Thoreau
The first half of 2009 is hard and hopeless. I am like a tower of blocks built too high, swaying, ready to tumble down unless someone reaches out to balance it and to start removing blocks until stable.
If something needs to be done, I do it. Egocentric as all humans, I expect others to do the same. When they don't I harbor resentment.
At this point, my life is anything but simple. I am a mother of two, masters degree student who works full time. At both home and work I have taken on too much.
At work, we lose the person who takes care of lunch. So I step in. Pick up lunch from another high school 10 miles away, set everything up, serve, clean everything up, and return the dirty dishes. Not only does this take time away from my regular duties it is dirty and physically hard to lift heavy bags of foods, and becoming a "lunch lady" physiologically damages me. Teachers help as much as they can, but we are so short staffed.
The janitors think a school only needs to be cleaned once per week. I do not like dirty places, and we are trying to recruit new students. So each morning I get to work early to vacuum, to clean tables, and to get away from home.
The economy is slow. Funding for education is cut and schools have a hiring freeze right when I am ready to apply for jobs. I apply for dozens of jobs all over the country. The one interview I land, the library director explains that he has 40 highly qualified applicants. The library field was overflowing with qualified applicants before the budget cuts, now jobs are few and far inbetween. I will graduate with a master's degree and I spend my time cleaning up after people.
Greg has no work. Time to work on the house, but no money. Time to work on other projects but no desire. The dark cold winter always brings him down. I am the stabilizer & motivator, but have no energy to play this role. I need his help, but when I return from my night class at 9:30 pm the kids still need help with their homework, the dishes are piled in the sink, and the house is a mess. I try to convince him that there are other ways to contribute to a family besides financially. We fight more in a few months than we have all the previous years of our marriage combined. We are hopelessly lost in the fog of discouragement.
Just at the point of scrounging coins to buy milk... we get a call from someone wanting to purchase artwork. Amazingly so in this slow economy when we haven't done any of the money required ways of promoting art that we have done in the past.
Just at the point of finding every excuse not to go home, Greg and the kids step up and start doing their share of the cooking and housework.
Just at the point of complete blindness in the dark of despair, the sun breaks free for an early spring. The bulbs, crocuses first, pop up their colors with the promise of warmth of renewed hope, and of perseverance. Spring flowers are a reminder to me of the forgotten beauty.
Slowly, Greg starts to line up jobs. When not working he finishes the utility/workroom and starts laying the stone veneer on the house. This is a labor intensive job that only requires the purchase of mortar. The mortar is mixed in a large tub with a hoe to the consistency of cake batter. It is good work to rid the body of despair. Outside in the fresh crispness of spring you create your own heat working every muscle: the arms, back, stomach, and legs in the mixing and lifting and the mind in the puzzle of fitting rocks together like a pattern. We start landscaping. Greg acquires cuttings from friends and jobs he does for others. To work in the dirt, to plant that seed or cutting which turns into a living thing of beauty is my healing pastime.
I do not find a librarian job, but work improves. A new janitor is hired. Someone else is assigned to pick up, set up, and clean up lunch. I teach one computer technology class in addition to my admin assist duties. I love teaching, even though I am spending many weekend hours in preparation creating lessons and grading. I enjoy seeing students progress and what they teach me. I enjoy the challenge of behavior management and the reflection of "what could I do better". I feel that I am playing a more valuable role than that of lunch lady and this improve my physiological outlook.
Money is still tight, but we have enough. We insulate the house with R-19 insulation in the walls and R-30 insulation in the ceiling. Then we start to sheet rock. Amazing how covering the walls makes progress seem vast and the end finally seem possible.
Compromise
His singleness of purpose and resolution, and
his elevated piety, endowed him, without his knowledge, with perennial youth.
As he made no compromise with Time, Time kept out of his way, and only sighed
at a distance because he could not overcome him.
--Henry David Thoreau Walden
Thoreau writes this beautiful story about living purely, no compromises. But once again, Thoreau was not married.
Compromise is the basis of marriage.
If you look at the root words, compromise can be seen as beautiful.
Com:
a prefix meaning “with,” “together,” “in association,” and (with intensive force) “completely,” occurring in loanwords from Latin (commit)
Promise:
1. a declaration that something will or will not be done, given, etc.
2. an express assurance on which expectation is to be based
3. something that has the effect of an express assurance; indication of what may be expected
4. indication of future excellence or achievement
Compromise=together excellence
Almost always, when someone learns we are building our own house... something that takes all our spare time and money, has taken years and is still not close to being complete, they say "I don't know how you do it. My spouse and I can't even pick a color of paint without getting into a huge fight."
I see the doubt in their eye, the questioning of their own marriage and that is the last thing I would ever want to raise thought of.
We live in a society that has a focus on finding your soul mate, your true love.
Greg is my soul mate & true love, but that doesn't mean marriage is easy. That doesn't mean that we always agree, in fact I think it would be terrible to always agree with someone.
Greg and I have similar tastes and expectations and we are both fairly easygoing personalities... except for when we really want something or strongly believe we are correct. Time has taught me that when we disagree it is usually because we don't understand and that when we come to a compromise it is better than either of our individual ideas. Greg is visionary, I can't always picture what he has in mind. I am practical. I want what is easiest and best for the long term. Together, we can create something that is beautiful and functional. It has taken experience to learn this. At the beginning of our building project, Greg would listen to my ideas, then do whatever he wanted. Sometimes I had a "Oh that was what you were talking about" moment, but I still felt unimportant, unheard. Other times, like when he put a window in the kitchen right where I wanted the fridge, I made him redo it for the practical necessity.
We have learned to agree before any big project. It once took months before we came to an agreement on the roofing. Greg wanted slate, to conform to his vision of blending in with the natural setting. Slate is way out of our budget. I wanted green metal roofing. Practical and affordable, also looking at green metal roofs makes me think of the hillsides in spring. Of the first warm day when you take off on your bike in the liliac sented air, the sun soaking into your skin melting away the winter. That is a moment of pure joy. Greg wanted the roof to blend in, and that green state is so brief. We compromised on stone colored metal roofing. I will look to the neighbors green roof and one day when the roof needs replacing, maybe we can afford slate. We both ended up happy with the result, even if it took months to get there.
For any of you that have been to our land and seen a strangely unfinished project, it is probably because it is something that we have yet to agree on.
True compromise takes the best of two people to create the best result. It is not always possible, and sometimes someone must give in. To have someone give up something they really want for you is the ultimate act of love and commitment and that is what true love is all about.
his elevated piety, endowed him, without his knowledge, with perennial youth.
As he made no compromise with Time, Time kept out of his way, and only sighed
at a distance because he could not overcome him.
--Henry David Thoreau Walden
Thoreau writes this beautiful story about living purely, no compromises. But once again, Thoreau was not married.
Compromise is the basis of marriage.
If you look at the root words, compromise can be seen as beautiful.
Com:
a prefix meaning “with,” “together,” “in association,” and (with intensive force) “completely,” occurring in loanwords from Latin (commit)
Promise:
1. a declaration that something will or will not be done, given, etc.
2. an express assurance on which expectation is to be based
3. something that has the effect of an express assurance; indication of what may be expected
4. indication of future excellence or achievement
Compromise=together excellence
Almost always, when someone learns we are building our own house... something that takes all our spare time and money, has taken years and is still not close to being complete, they say "I don't know how you do it. My spouse and I can't even pick a color of paint without getting into a huge fight."
I see the doubt in their eye, the questioning of their own marriage and that is the last thing I would ever want to raise thought of.
We live in a society that has a focus on finding your soul mate, your true love.
Greg is my soul mate & true love, but that doesn't mean marriage is easy. That doesn't mean that we always agree, in fact I think it would be terrible to always agree with someone.
Greg and I have similar tastes and expectations and we are both fairly easygoing personalities... except for when we really want something or strongly believe we are correct. Time has taught me that when we disagree it is usually because we don't understand and that when we come to a compromise it is better than either of our individual ideas. Greg is visionary, I can't always picture what he has in mind. I am practical. I want what is easiest and best for the long term. Together, we can create something that is beautiful and functional. It has taken experience to learn this. At the beginning of our building project, Greg would listen to my ideas, then do whatever he wanted. Sometimes I had a "Oh that was what you were talking about" moment, but I still felt unimportant, unheard. Other times, like when he put a window in the kitchen right where I wanted the fridge, I made him redo it for the practical necessity.
We have learned to agree before any big project. It once took months before we came to an agreement on the roofing. Greg wanted slate, to conform to his vision of blending in with the natural setting. Slate is way out of our budget. I wanted green metal roofing. Practical and affordable, also looking at green metal roofs makes me think of the hillsides in spring. Of the first warm day when you take off on your bike in the liliac sented air, the sun soaking into your skin melting away the winter. That is a moment of pure joy. Greg wanted the roof to blend in, and that green state is so brief. We compromised on stone colored metal roofing. I will look to the neighbors green roof and one day when the roof needs replacing, maybe we can afford slate. We both ended up happy with the result, even if it took months to get there.
For any of you that have been to our land and seen a strangely unfinished project, it is probably because it is something that we have yet to agree on.
True compromise takes the best of two people to create the best result. It is not always possible, and sometimes someone must give in. To have someone give up something they really want for you is the ultimate act of love and commitment and that is what true love is all about.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
2008
"I had three chairs in my house; one for solitude, two for friendship, three for society."
--Henry David Thoreau
Thoreau lived two years and two months in a 150 square foot cabin.
We had now spent more time building than Thoreau even lived at Walden Pond and 150 square feet would just not work. We had more needs and different aims.
First of all, we plan to live in this house for more than an experiment and the space needed for a lone man just doesn't work for a family of four.
Also, Greg is an artist. This house is not just a shelter, it is a piece of art, a sculpture. It is not a box, but a form of curves, angles, and slopes that blend with, show case, or imitate nature.
The house covers 1200 square feet of ground in a "L" shape with a 400 square foot basement and a 200 square foot attic, and one and a half baths.
The house has been designed for winter solar gain with only one window in the workshop/utility room on the North side, French doors that open onto a porch on the West side, small windows that will catch the breeze and the morning light and a door that will open onto a patio on the East side, and large windows and a recycled sunroom on the South side.
All our windows and doors were salvaged, recycled, purchased on clearance or as misorders; the beauty of building yourself. We used salvaged triple pane sliding glass doors, turned on their side for the South facing windows in the basement bedrooms, then created tiered window wells. The rooms are full of natural light. I love having a basement that is not dark and gloomy... electric lights will not be needed as long as the sun shines.
The kitchen and dinning room both have large South facing windows, the living room has the South facing sunroom glass with a 12 foot ceiling. The North walls will be bookcases, a library that leads to the basement.
The attic has one East and one West window and will hold a bedroom and a sewing/studio room. We got a great deal on the trusses because they were a misorder. The room has a low ceiling and required a change in the house plan, but it worked out perfectly for what we needed.
The basement is storage, a media room, and two 10x12 ft bedrooms. My daughter thinks this space is too small. I ask her, "Too small compared to what?" Thoreau's entire cabin wasn't much bigger than the space assigned to her room. She is comparing to her best friend's room. A friend that lives in a mini mansion in a gated community. Every time I pick her up or drop her off, I feel trapped as I wait for that gate to open to release me. Give me large spaces outside and small spaces with large windows inside. The dining room window is a 6x6 foot square that looks out on rolling pasture and the distant Wellsville Mountains. It is like a landscape painting the changes with the seasons. It will be interesting to see how many years pass before this view is gone by the progress of man.
This year we built stairs, put in the windows and doors, and got the plumbing and most of the wiring done.
Greg has friends who are fellow artisans working for themselves, they share their muscles and knowledge when needed, but most of the work (except for the roof raising)is completed solely by Greg with my weekend assistance.
2008 was for the most part a year of health and happiness.
I acquired a new boss, who brought many changes to our school. Charter schools are generally founded by a visionary, out-of-the-box thinking individual, who wants to create a dynamically different approach to education. Many times, these type of individuals have no clue about finances. A principal of a charter school is a CEO of a business as well as a director of education. It is a huge job, and our founding principal, like many other charter school principals, wasn't good with numbers. When the Board of Governors realized our school was quickly approaching bankruptcy, our founding principal "retired", and a teacher stepped up to act as principal until a qualified replacement could be found.
We lucked out and hired a guy who had a MBA and three years experience as a charter high school principal in Salt Lake City. He studied the finances and made major changes, the only way to save the school. We had a big beautiful expensive building. With same changes, we could function in half the space, sublease the other half, and save thousands of dollars in rent each month. One things that had to go was the school library, the Ameri VISTA positions, and all support staff but the special ed aides and one secretary who would need to take over the assignments of the four positions that were not being replaced. The school secretary had just had her first child, and decided to quit working and stay home. I then became the full time secretary, and even though the job I was going to school to become qualified for was gone, decided to continue with the program that I completely enjoyed and was half finished with. I managed to save the library in a greatly reduced state by moving it into a large corridor like hallway, which quickly became known as "Library Hall". Students would bring books to the office where I would check them out and use USU's library for research. This honor system library was better than nothing, it was used frequently, and we lost fewer books than I anticipated.
--Henry David Thoreau
Thoreau lived two years and two months in a 150 square foot cabin.
We had now spent more time building than Thoreau even lived at Walden Pond and 150 square feet would just not work. We had more needs and different aims.
First of all, we plan to live in this house for more than an experiment and the space needed for a lone man just doesn't work for a family of four.
Also, Greg is an artist. This house is not just a shelter, it is a piece of art, a sculpture. It is not a box, but a form of curves, angles, and slopes that blend with, show case, or imitate nature.
The house covers 1200 square feet of ground in a "L" shape with a 400 square foot basement and a 200 square foot attic, and one and a half baths.
The house has been designed for winter solar gain with only one window in the workshop/utility room on the North side, French doors that open onto a porch on the West side, small windows that will catch the breeze and the morning light and a door that will open onto a patio on the East side, and large windows and a recycled sunroom on the South side.
All our windows and doors were salvaged, recycled, purchased on clearance or as misorders; the beauty of building yourself. We used salvaged triple pane sliding glass doors, turned on their side for the South facing windows in the basement bedrooms, then created tiered window wells. The rooms are full of natural light. I love having a basement that is not dark and gloomy... electric lights will not be needed as long as the sun shines.
The kitchen and dinning room both have large South facing windows, the living room has the South facing sunroom glass with a 12 foot ceiling. The North walls will be bookcases, a library that leads to the basement.
The attic has one East and one West window and will hold a bedroom and a sewing/studio room. We got a great deal on the trusses because they were a misorder. The room has a low ceiling and required a change in the house plan, but it worked out perfectly for what we needed.
The basement is storage, a media room, and two 10x12 ft bedrooms. My daughter thinks this space is too small. I ask her, "Too small compared to what?" Thoreau's entire cabin wasn't much bigger than the space assigned to her room. She is comparing to her best friend's room. A friend that lives in a mini mansion in a gated community. Every time I pick her up or drop her off, I feel trapped as I wait for that gate to open to release me. Give me large spaces outside and small spaces with large windows inside. The dining room window is a 6x6 foot square that looks out on rolling pasture and the distant Wellsville Mountains. It is like a landscape painting the changes with the seasons. It will be interesting to see how many years pass before this view is gone by the progress of man.
This year we built stairs, put in the windows and doors, and got the plumbing and most of the wiring done.
Greg has friends who are fellow artisans working for themselves, they share their muscles and knowledge when needed, but most of the work (except for the roof raising)is completed solely by Greg with my weekend assistance.
2008 was for the most part a year of health and happiness.
I acquired a new boss, who brought many changes to our school. Charter schools are generally founded by a visionary, out-of-the-box thinking individual, who wants to create a dynamically different approach to education. Many times, these type of individuals have no clue about finances. A principal of a charter school is a CEO of a business as well as a director of education. It is a huge job, and our founding principal, like many other charter school principals, wasn't good with numbers. When the Board of Governors realized our school was quickly approaching bankruptcy, our founding principal "retired", and a teacher stepped up to act as principal until a qualified replacement could be found.
We lucked out and hired a guy who had a MBA and three years experience as a charter high school principal in Salt Lake City. He studied the finances and made major changes, the only way to save the school. We had a big beautiful expensive building. With same changes, we could function in half the space, sublease the other half, and save thousands of dollars in rent each month. One things that had to go was the school library, the Ameri VISTA positions, and all support staff but the special ed aides and one secretary who would need to take over the assignments of the four positions that were not being replaced. The school secretary had just had her first child, and decided to quit working and stay home. I then became the full time secretary, and even though the job I was going to school to become qualified for was gone, decided to continue with the program that I completely enjoyed and was half finished with. I managed to save the library in a greatly reduced state by moving it into a large corridor like hallway, which quickly became known as "Library Hall". Students would bring books to the office where I would check them out and use USU's library for research. This honor system library was better than nothing, it was used frequently, and we lost fewer books than I anticipated.
2006 Roof Raising
Thanks everyone who came to our Roof Raising Party and helped get the trusses up. We couldn't have done it without you.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Believing
"Live your beliefs and you can turn the world around."
--Henry David Thoreau
Now I know why Thoreau never married. It is difficult to spend your time in the woods observing nature, writing, living out philosophical ideas when you have kids that need to be insured, feed, and clothed and a wife that demands running hot water and a flush toilet.
When Greg turned 40 he fell into a melancholy. Things were moving slowly on the building, he spent half his waking hours at a tedious job he hated, he wondered how he could have had such potential and ended up stuck. He wanted to move into the trailer at our land. I put my food down. Until the point we had running hot water and a flush toilet, I was not going anywhere. I figured if this was really important to him, he could quickly get to that point.
Maybe I was blinded by my own happiness at the moment. Looking back, I can now see how miserable he was. How he was shrinking to the point of disappearing, how he struggled every day with the thought of leaving.
My degree is in Social Work. At the time, I planned on continuing with a Masters and working as a counselor. I thought this would be a flexible job where I could work part time and still make a decent income. The funny thing about university degrees is that you don't complete the internship until after all your course work. I quickly realized that this was not the right field for me. Maybe I have too much empathy; being around other people's problems all day weighs too heavy with me. We ended up having children earlier than planned anyway. I went straight from college to motherhood.
When our youngest went to kindergarten, 2003, I knew it was time to find a job. I applied to many and interviewed for a few, but was never offered a job. As a stay-at-home mom, I spent time volunteering at the school and was asked if wanted a one hour a day job as a First Grade Reading Aide. It wasn't much, but it was something.
I had never even for a second considered a career in education, but here I found a niche. I loved this job to the point that even though I was paid so little, I almost felt guilty about taking the paycheck. Everyday I had kids, parents, teachers, and supervisors thank me for the great job I was doing. I have never felt so appreciated or that what I was doing was worth-while, making a difference.
Working at a school is a perfect mom job. I took the kids to school, spent an hour volunteering in the school library, worked my hour as an aide, and still had time to volunteer in my kids classes and fill my PTA position of Reflections Chair. The next year I was given a 6 hour a day kindergarten TA position. To have the same work days and hours that your kids have school is wonderful. To not have insurance, retirement, paid sick leave, and be on an hourly wage is not. December's pay check with the two week vacation was small and I didn't earn anything during the summer. I could have kept this job forever, but knew I needed to find a better one.
The resource teacher at the school recommended me to a second bachelors special ed program. Despite Greg (who worked for a few years as special ed aide) and my mother who is a special ed preschool teacher telling me that a career in special ed is too hard and stressful, I took the required tests, filled out the paperwork, met with an advisor, and signed up to take my missing prerequisite of a Psychology Class. I couldn't convince them that Social Work Classes had the same information. I had been saving as much money as possible, but there was no way I could pay for school. This is when an old high school friend asked me to interview for an Ameri VISTA position with a STEM focused charter high school that would be opening the next year.
I had never worked with teens, but this job would be part of the foundation building, logistics, recruitment, things like that. I did not enjoy my high school experience. As a shy person, I was invisible in the world ran by football players and cheerleaders. This small academic focused school was something needed in the valley and being part of that would be wonderful. The Ameri VISTA program provides manpower to nonprofits, the federal government pays a small monthly living allowance and gives an education stipend at the end of a year's work. The living stipend was just enough to cover our mortgage and utility bills and then I would have money to pay for school.
In spring of 2006, Greg quit his job. From the time we meet, we had an ongoing argument. Greg believed he could build a house with $20,000 and a summer. I thought this to be impossible. By this point, he thought I was the ultimate killjoy and I knew he needed to have his summer. I believe following dreams, even if they fail, is vitally important. We only had $10,000, but we also had the foundation finished.
We had the mortgage and utilities covered, it would be an interesting experience to live off garden produce and food storage for a summer, it was the lose of insurance that worried me. Greg would just need to be very careful, Ameri VISTA provided health insurance for me, and I thought the kids could get coverage through CHIP, a federal and state supplemented health insurance for kids of working families. I applied, but we were denied coverage because we made too little money. In all the years of slaving to pay this huge monthly obligation, we had only had a broken arm, a couple of needs for stitches, and the removal of a nickel lodged in the esophagus. We were healthy, so we bought basic accident insurance through the kids school, and felt covered.
Greg spent the summer working at our land, I worked in a cubicle out of USU making arrangements for all the necessities of a new school, and the kids went to summer camps and spent time with my mom.
When school started, the person hired as the high school librarian at the last minute took another position. Since I had library experience, I took this role (though still only paid through the Ameri VISTA program)and the Principal at the time told me that when I completed the school library masters program, he would give me the librarian job through the school. I then studied for and took the GRE and applied to this program at Utah State University.
Everything with the building took three times as long and cost twice as much as we thought, but Greg was happy for the first time in years. Then that fall, we had a major medical emergency. One day our son complained that his back hurt and his leg felt funny, the next day he couldn't walk. He had a cavernoma in his spine. A rare tangle of blood vessels that ruptures, the bleeding putting pressure on the nervous system that causes paralization. He was the seventh kid in the world to have spinal surgery to remove this pressure. We spent two weeks in the Primary Children's Hospital in Salt Lake City, and many more weeks relearning all bodily functions. For a while we didn't know if he would ever walk again. But the amazingly strong and dedicated kid amazed all the doctors with his miraculous recovery. He now leads a normal healthy life. Even the scar has faded to the point that you wouldn't know just by a casual look at him.
Now that the emergency was over, it was time to figure out how to pay for it. I would have paid a million dollars, and worked two jobs for the rest of my life to get him walking again. We learned that you can apply to medicaid retroactively, and went through this painful process just to be turned down because we had too many assets. The bills came by the dozens. Bills from doctors I never remembered meeting. I divided them into two piles. Those that charged interest and those that did not charge interest. For those that charge interest we used our rainy day savings, the money I had saved to pay for school, what was left of our house building money, and the money generously given to us by family, friends, coworkers, and even strangers. That amazingly paid off all the interest charging bills. The rest we paid a little every month. Primary Childrens Hospital has the philosophy that they never turn anyone away, or devastate families with bills. They charge uninsured families on a sliding scale fee and don't charge interest.
Greg took a peon job at a furniture factory, that went from 6 am to 3 pm, and I got the kids to school then started working as a part time secretary for the high school in addition to my hours as an Ameri VISTA, roughly from 8:30 am to 5:30 pm. The school had a "full time secretary" who was also a full time student. She left the building for a few hours every day to attend classes, and I covered for her. My curiosity of learning new things outweighed any thought I had of unfairness. While I was gone from work for a month caring for my son, another Ameri VISTA had to cover the secretary's absence. She do not find this fair in the least and made a big deal about the secretary being paid for a full time job when she was only working part time. This ended up as a blessing for me, when I was offered this job with the option to purchase family health insurance. Most of my extra income went to pay for insurance, the rest went right to medical bills. It took us two years of scrapping together every extra penny, but we paid off all those bills.
Spring 2007, Greg started working for himself... landscaping, tile work, remodels, handyman stuff. We use a lot of recycled materials in our building acquired from these jobs.
That summer we spent on labor that didn't cost money. Win-win, hauling rocks out of the fields that surround our land. Have you ever priced a rock? It is amazing what they cost. We haul loads of unwanted rocks out of fields to use in landscaping and for the stone veneer of the house.
All of this is just another hiccup on the journey of believing.
--Henry David Thoreau
Now I know why Thoreau never married. It is difficult to spend your time in the woods observing nature, writing, living out philosophical ideas when you have kids that need to be insured, feed, and clothed and a wife that demands running hot water and a flush toilet.
When Greg turned 40 he fell into a melancholy. Things were moving slowly on the building, he spent half his waking hours at a tedious job he hated, he wondered how he could have had such potential and ended up stuck. He wanted to move into the trailer at our land. I put my food down. Until the point we had running hot water and a flush toilet, I was not going anywhere. I figured if this was really important to him, he could quickly get to that point.
Maybe I was blinded by my own happiness at the moment. Looking back, I can now see how miserable he was. How he was shrinking to the point of disappearing, how he struggled every day with the thought of leaving.
My degree is in Social Work. At the time, I planned on continuing with a Masters and working as a counselor. I thought this would be a flexible job where I could work part time and still make a decent income. The funny thing about university degrees is that you don't complete the internship until after all your course work. I quickly realized that this was not the right field for me. Maybe I have too much empathy; being around other people's problems all day weighs too heavy with me. We ended up having children earlier than planned anyway. I went straight from college to motherhood.
When our youngest went to kindergarten, 2003, I knew it was time to find a job. I applied to many and interviewed for a few, but was never offered a job. As a stay-at-home mom, I spent time volunteering at the school and was asked if wanted a one hour a day job as a First Grade Reading Aide. It wasn't much, but it was something.
I had never even for a second considered a career in education, but here I found a niche. I loved this job to the point that even though I was paid so little, I almost felt guilty about taking the paycheck. Everyday I had kids, parents, teachers, and supervisors thank me for the great job I was doing. I have never felt so appreciated or that what I was doing was worth-while, making a difference.
Working at a school is a perfect mom job. I took the kids to school, spent an hour volunteering in the school library, worked my hour as an aide, and still had time to volunteer in my kids classes and fill my PTA position of Reflections Chair. The next year I was given a 6 hour a day kindergarten TA position. To have the same work days and hours that your kids have school is wonderful. To not have insurance, retirement, paid sick leave, and be on an hourly wage is not. December's pay check with the two week vacation was small and I didn't earn anything during the summer. I could have kept this job forever, but knew I needed to find a better one.
The resource teacher at the school recommended me to a second bachelors special ed program. Despite Greg (who worked for a few years as special ed aide) and my mother who is a special ed preschool teacher telling me that a career in special ed is too hard and stressful, I took the required tests, filled out the paperwork, met with an advisor, and signed up to take my missing prerequisite of a Psychology Class. I couldn't convince them that Social Work Classes had the same information. I had been saving as much money as possible, but there was no way I could pay for school. This is when an old high school friend asked me to interview for an Ameri VISTA position with a STEM focused charter high school that would be opening the next year.
I had never worked with teens, but this job would be part of the foundation building, logistics, recruitment, things like that. I did not enjoy my high school experience. As a shy person, I was invisible in the world ran by football players and cheerleaders. This small academic focused school was something needed in the valley and being part of that would be wonderful. The Ameri VISTA program provides manpower to nonprofits, the federal government pays a small monthly living allowance and gives an education stipend at the end of a year's work. The living stipend was just enough to cover our mortgage and utility bills and then I would have money to pay for school.
In spring of 2006, Greg quit his job. From the time we meet, we had an ongoing argument. Greg believed he could build a house with $20,000 and a summer. I thought this to be impossible. By this point, he thought I was the ultimate killjoy and I knew he needed to have his summer. I believe following dreams, even if they fail, is vitally important. We only had $10,000, but we also had the foundation finished.
We had the mortgage and utilities covered, it would be an interesting experience to live off garden produce and food storage for a summer, it was the lose of insurance that worried me. Greg would just need to be very careful, Ameri VISTA provided health insurance for me, and I thought the kids could get coverage through CHIP, a federal and state supplemented health insurance for kids of working families. I applied, but we were denied coverage because we made too little money. In all the years of slaving to pay this huge monthly obligation, we had only had a broken arm, a couple of needs for stitches, and the removal of a nickel lodged in the esophagus. We were healthy, so we bought basic accident insurance through the kids school, and felt covered.
Greg spent the summer working at our land, I worked in a cubicle out of USU making arrangements for all the necessities of a new school, and the kids went to summer camps and spent time with my mom.
When school started, the person hired as the high school librarian at the last minute took another position. Since I had library experience, I took this role (though still only paid through the Ameri VISTA program)and the Principal at the time told me that when I completed the school library masters program, he would give me the librarian job through the school. I then studied for and took the GRE and applied to this program at Utah State University.
Everything with the building took three times as long and cost twice as much as we thought, but Greg was happy for the first time in years. Then that fall, we had a major medical emergency. One day our son complained that his back hurt and his leg felt funny, the next day he couldn't walk. He had a cavernoma in his spine. A rare tangle of blood vessels that ruptures, the bleeding putting pressure on the nervous system that causes paralization. He was the seventh kid in the world to have spinal surgery to remove this pressure. We spent two weeks in the Primary Children's Hospital in Salt Lake City, and many more weeks relearning all bodily functions. For a while we didn't know if he would ever walk again. But the amazingly strong and dedicated kid amazed all the doctors with his miraculous recovery. He now leads a normal healthy life. Even the scar has faded to the point that you wouldn't know just by a casual look at him.
Now that the emergency was over, it was time to figure out how to pay for it. I would have paid a million dollars, and worked two jobs for the rest of my life to get him walking again. We learned that you can apply to medicaid retroactively, and went through this painful process just to be turned down because we had too many assets. The bills came by the dozens. Bills from doctors I never remembered meeting. I divided them into two piles. Those that charged interest and those that did not charge interest. For those that charge interest we used our rainy day savings, the money I had saved to pay for school, what was left of our house building money, and the money generously given to us by family, friends, coworkers, and even strangers. That amazingly paid off all the interest charging bills. The rest we paid a little every month. Primary Childrens Hospital has the philosophy that they never turn anyone away, or devastate families with bills. They charge uninsured families on a sliding scale fee and don't charge interest.
Greg took a peon job at a furniture factory, that went from 6 am to 3 pm, and I got the kids to school then started working as a part time secretary for the high school in addition to my hours as an Ameri VISTA, roughly from 8:30 am to 5:30 pm. The school had a "full time secretary" who was also a full time student. She left the building for a few hours every day to attend classes, and I covered for her. My curiosity of learning new things outweighed any thought I had of unfairness. While I was gone from work for a month caring for my son, another Ameri VISTA had to cover the secretary's absence. She do not find this fair in the least and made a big deal about the secretary being paid for a full time job when she was only working part time. This ended up as a blessing for me, when I was offered this job with the option to purchase family health insurance. Most of my extra income went to pay for insurance, the rest went right to medical bills. It took us two years of scrapping together every extra penny, but we paid off all those bills.
Spring 2007, Greg started working for himself... landscaping, tile work, remodels, handyman stuff. We use a lot of recycled materials in our building acquired from these jobs.
That summer we spent on labor that didn't cost money. Win-win, hauling rocks out of the fields that surround our land. Have you ever priced a rock? It is amazing what they cost. We haul loads of unwanted rocks out of fields to use in landscaping and for the stone veneer of the house.
All of this is just another hiccup on the journey of believing.
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