The Mines of Moria

Deep at the root of the mountains, there exist a vast system of caverns and crevasses, carved over thousands upon of thousands of years by raging rivers and slowly dripping water. And they call it a cave, A CAVE. This weekend, 12 of us CAP volunteers from all 5 houses went to the Carter caves to go "caving"...which is really a fancy word for exploring, getting lost, crawling around, getting dirty and seeing if we could make it back to the car again with at least most of our group. Apparently, caving is different from spelunking too (the way it was explained to me by Anna our fearless leader and guide was that cavers rescue spelunkers....so take that as you will).
We camped out on Friday night under the wide starry Kentucky sky, after a joyful rendezvous with our Johnson and McGoffin house comrades. Jesse kept farting all night which kept Calista up...can you believe him, what a scoundrel...honestly Jesse. Saturday morning, we geared up, with helmets, head lamps, gloves, and knee pads and made our way for the nearest hole to crawl into. For many of us, it was our first time caving so we didn't quite know how we would react, psychologically, to the experience of being belly down in the mud with only a foot and a half clearing to crawl through for 10 minutes (including myself). But, Anna broke us in gracefully. Our first cave was mostly an upright walk through a wide scar in the belly of the mountain. The ceiling of the cave glittered as thousands of water droplets condensing, reflected the golden light of the headlamps. (In my nerdy voice I proclaimed, "the wealth of the Dwarves was not in gold, nor jewels...but mithril!)...a couple people caught the reference, the rest just shook their heads. ANYWHO, at a couple areas, you had to choose: clutch the wall or walk through the shin high freezing water. I packed my excellent puma shoes which were PERFECT for getting traction on the walls of the cave........after I got my feet wet, I spent my time at the water junctions carrying David Frank over the pools.
Then came our first real test: a one and a half foot tall corridor by 4 feet wide for 10 whole minutes. Some of us, including myself tackled the expanse head on...literally. Anna was our leader and David was right in front of me. And, let me explain something to you; in caving, when you are crawling behind someone with a bit of a flatulence issue, the situation becomes inescapable. It's all part of the caving experience, and let me tell you, there are things much fouler than Orcs in the deep places of the world.
Honestly though, like most hard things in life, the hard crawls were the most rewarding because when you emerged from the small crack in the mountain, you were dropped in the middle of a valley mostly untouched by humans. Full of fully grown trees just beginning to drop their yellow and browning leaves, large rock formations, dried river beds, and singing birds.
After we dove into the next cave, we experienced what I thought to be the coolest part of the trip. The group all turned off all of our lights and just sat in the cave silently for about 5 minutes. The darkness was complete and the silence stifling. All you could hear, other than the occasional breaking of wind, was droplets of cave water and bats squeaking in the distant hollows, hopefully far from where you are sitting.
The most adventurous part of the trip was when we had to climb a good 15 feet up to another cave on what was basically a Kentucky ghetto rigged ladder made of 2 long logs and some rope. All of the guys on the trip would like to extend our sincerest apologies to our future wives, because we are now unable to have children after our uncomfortable trip down the "ladder". Kudos also go to Jesse who helped an entire family of 3 down the ladder, which awed the ladies and made the guys wince...in admiration.
Well, I must be off to bed before I add any more Lord of the Rings references or references to farting. Tomorrow we get to unload an entire tractor trailer of donated windows. Which should be only about half as bad as not making it out of the caves.

Cheers my dear mates,

quote of the day, "I know half of you half as well as I should like. And I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve"...one more.
-or-
Anna P. "Andy, you look like a homeless mountain man, crawling out of that hole with that beard."

Elven Rope

The volunteer life is full of ups and downs, both figuratively and literally. Today was a perfect example of such. There is a group here at CAP this week of about 24 people from Michigan, and they've been a blessing to both the people in the area and also all of us full-timers. We started a new job this week, a roof for an elderly woman named O. B. Shes about 90 and has raised a vibrant family in this small home. The shingles on the house were about...50 years old or so and virtually dust. This roof has been a challenge to say the least. You see, there were 3 layers of old shingles that had to be taken up, with four nails per sheet of shingles. Not to mention, the roof is a 10/12 pitch, which means that for every 10 inches you go in (run) you go up a foot (rise). As Ross said, "that roof is steeper than a cow's face". Simply put, it was steep as dump and had thousands of nails that had to be pulled up before we could put down tar paper and new shingles in the 90 degree heat. We can only work until 2 pm because after that point, the tar on the shingles starts to melt and they become rubbish. Oh, and you can't stand on the shingles you have already put down or they become rubbish due to the heat. So this was a down, spiritually (ironically while we were up physically...a pun, get it?). However, all week O. B. and her daughter, who is around 65 have been making us lunch, which has been down home southern cooking and probably some of the best food I have ever had. It was such a lift because here were two women who didn't have much, giving us in their own way, love to raise our spirits. It was moving to say the least...and delicious.

In a small way, I was feeling down today because in my time thus far, I haven't been learning too much construction wise. My boss needs to be away from the work site for much of the day, gathering supplies and visiting new houses. This means that I am either used largely as a work horse, doing labor intensive, mindless work, or I need to try things out on my own, fail, try again and hopefully eventually get it. And, it's particularly frustrating because construction is largely common sense...only you have to know or at least see once what you are trying to do, or you end up failing like another Jurassic Park movie.

However, just when I was feeling like those guys in Jurassic Park when the dinosaurs broke out and started eating everyone, there was this gentle old man who I had a great conversation with. His name was Clayton and he's related to O.B. He was widdeling a piece of cedar with a blunt pocket knife and just watching us do this roof. He had a flat top hair cut, glasses, and a peaceful demeanor, as he scraped the blade over the wood, creating a rainfall of reddish curly cues at his feet. I sat down, quite sweaty and exhausted and he just asked, "where're you from?"
"Oh, uh, Chicago, south of Chicago"
"You're a long way from home," he said
"Oh, yeah, I know it. I'm just here, doing some work for some folks for a while," I replied.
"Mmmhmmm"
Then I asked, "you ever make it up to Chicago?"
He replied, "Yup, once some years back."
"What did you think?" I inquired.
"Nope" he said with a grin. "Too much traffic"
"Yeah, it's pretty crowded" I said as I thought of the 3 cars that had passed down the road in front of their home all day.
"What are you widdeling there?"
"Cedar"
"Oh, no I mean are you making anything"
"Yeah, a mess. a heh heh heh."

It might seem like a simple enough conversation but it reminded me that the Appalachian people take delight in the simples things; a shady patch of lawn, a warm meal, the breezes through their hollar, or widdeling for no reason other than the peace it provides. And, most of the things that provide them peace are free, and not complicated in any way...just an observation.

Cheers mates.


Just finished reading: C.S. Lewis' "Screwtape Letters"
Now Reading: G. K. Chesterton's "Everlasting Man"
Now listening to: "Goldmine Pickers"
Now watching: "the Office" season premier

quote of the day: "Do good works. Good works."

Precious Top 7

7 Things I love about CAP:
1. Working with Ross Abrams, captain and hero.
2. Free donated Gatorade in a leaky cooler on a 95 degree day
3. The broad shade of the mountains that lasts until 9 a.m.
4. The rope swing/lake baths
5. Reading what I want to read
6. Getting sweaty, dirty, and bloodied up on a regular basis
7. This is an adventure

7 Things I miss about U of Illinois:
1. Fever house (the people, the dirty dishes pile, the wood floors, the memory of it)
2. Long runs in endless corn fields on twilight summer nights or cool fall mornings
3. Green Street coffee with Dave in all his indie glory
4. Blind Pig and Robert the Bruce
5. Reading things I don't want to read and arguing crackpots about them
6. In a really odd way, catering and the bakery
7. St. John's and everything that involves

7 Words I learned in Kentucky:
1. Waspers (wasps)
2. Backer (tobacco)
3. Maters (tomatoes)
4. Feller (man)
5. Son (son)
6. Fixin to (going to)
7. Dinner (lunch)

7 Construction things I've done so far:
1. Framed up walls of a house
2. Installed windows
3. Tore off a roof, put down a new one
4. put up siding, and took down siding, and put up siding
5. installed insulation
6. put up metal covering on fascia boards
7. smashed the hell out of my finger

Quote of the day: (this goes out to Ross and Jennie) "I smoke, I drink, me too, that's cool, cuz we gunna take a ride tonight"

A Journey in the Dark

There were two main passages that influenced me heavily in my coming to CAP, so I wanted to share them with you:

-"It looked like the old Sam Gamgee siting there, except that his face was unusually thoughtful.
'Do you feel any need to leave the Shire now - now that your wish to see the Elves has come true already?' he asked.
'Yes, sir. I don't know how to say it, but after last night I feel different. I seem to see ahead, in a kind of way. I know we are going to take a very long road, into darkness; but I know I can't turn back. It isn't to see Elves now, nor dragons, nor mountains, that I want - I don't rightly know what I want: but I have something to do before the end, and it lies ahead, not in the Shire. I must see it through sir, if you understand me."
*Fellowship of the Ring

- When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, 'Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?' He said to him, 'Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. He said to him, 'Feed my lambs.' He then said to him a second time, 'Simon, son of John, do you love me?' He said to Him, 'Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.' He said to him, 'Tend my sheep.' He said to him a third time, 'Simon, son of John, do you love me?' Peter was distressed that he had said to him a third time, 'Do you love me?' and he said to him, 'Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.' Jesus said to him, 'Feed my sheep. Amen, amen, I say to you, when you were younger, you used to dress yourself and go where you wanted; but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.' He said this signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God. And when he had said this, he said to him, "Follow me."
*John 21: 15-19

Change Comes Slowly...If it Comes at All.

Standing in the middle of an octagonal dance floor in Berea, surrounded by mountain men, mountain hippies, my fellow volunteers, and several others (including one man with what appeared to be a skirt and a f00-man chew mustache), I realized, is this some strange nightmare with Don dancing around like a crazy person....no, it's "contra dancing".

From what I can gather, contra dancing is kind of a square dance/swing dance/line dance/mountain twirl/crazy folk dance, which is all together crazy, wonderful, tiring, and sweaty. Many of us new volunteers had no idea what we were doing, so we tried to pick it up as we went. Callista and I quickly paired up because we both had no idea what we were doing and we wanted to avoid the 'experience' of gripping a mountain man or gal and swinging them to and fro...as it were. The dance begins with the men "putting their woman" on their right. Then, most of the time, you form a square with another couple immediately to your left...or right. Then a series of spinning that circle around begins. There's also the 'star' where the men hold hands and spin the circle like a pinwheel. Then you swing (which really means twirl, most of the time out of control) your individual partner around until you come back in to formation. and the whole vomit-inducing process begins again, with several variations. We learned such dances as the 'Boiling Mud', 'California Twirl', and 'Trinity Star'. The whole process is driven by a bluegrass band which consists of a bass, fiddle, guitar, and banjo. The one man playing the banjo had a rock'n beard, overalls, and what appeared to be a Cadets marching hat on. There was also a man who did the announcing of which moves we should be doing (he was clad in a tie dyed shirt and had a beard that went down to his belly...kind of like a hippie Walt Whitman).

All in all, it was a blast. At one point, some of us volunteers did one dance/formation on our own involving a box. We determined that if we got to a point where we had no idea what in all of God's green goodness to do, we would yell, "plan B is in effect" . Plan B is where we all just twirl around randomly so as to avoid looking like Yankees....which we implemented flawlessly. My favorite dance was a bluegrass waltz, one I actually knew how to do. (I'm a big bluegrass fan, and a big waltz fan)

There were two main highlights of the night...one of which I fear to tell you about. There is one move...one unspeakable move and it is called...."the Gypsy". The gypsy is where you walk around your partner and stare them down, walking shoulder to shoulder, peering into their soul! Let me tell you, it is all together terrifying. You cannot break the stare of the gypsy, and in a strange way...you don't want to baby, that's the magic of the gypsy! The only problem was that Don and Ross were trying to gypsy me all night those scoundrels, even when that dance was not going on. I can't have that!

The other highlight, for me, was when a mountain woman, whether driven by dancing advice or some strange mountain magic, told me to " hold her close". This, in addition to the gypsying of Don and Ross, made the night unforgettable. In case you were wondering, contra happens every month, the last Saturday of the month, so make your travel arrangements now, before all you mountain men and gals are swept off their feet and gypsied away into the hills!

Cheers mates,

quote of the day: me: "do you just gypsy one person, or is it an all out gypsy fest?"
Ross: "....I'm pretty sure it's an all out gypsy fest..."

honorable mention: Erin: "did you say goodbye to your new friend (the hold me close lady)"
me: "in contra, there is no goodbye, just....to be continued"

Shadow and Flame

The past two days were by far the two most dangerous days in Kentucky thus far. Aside from the narrow roads, crazy drivers, bears, and general work site danger, there remains one danger which has plagued me above any other...wild dogs. So, in my training for the Louisville half marathon in about a month, I have been running this 1.5 mile stretch near our house back and forth...which is the flattest part of Kentucky I have found yet. We always say, don't run past the tire on the mailbox, or you will surely be attacked by dogs. Well, while you are assured to be attacked by dogs beyond the tire mailbox, you are only more than likely to be attacked by dogs anywhere else on the road. Yesterday, I was running, breathing loudly as usual and huffing as fast as my short legs would go, and I heard these two dogs start barking and take off down the driveway toward my general direction. At this point, I strategically retreated in the form of a brisk walk in the opposite direction, muttering, "nice doggie...eh...". Usually, the dogs will stop at the driveway, but this time, they continued their pursuit beyond the driveway and continued toward me, with a general...angry disposition. They advanced all the way up to about 5 feet away when a voice from a porch nearby yelled "GIIIITT NAW". The dogs stopped in their tracks and trotted back to the source of the saving voice. I'm not quite sure what I would've done if the voice wasn't there. More likely than not, I would've assumed the fetal position and promptly soiled myself, or, attempted some ill-favored escape involving a short sprint, the dogs catching me and then me soiling myself in the fetal position.
This was not the only instance I escaped bodily harm in the last couple days. Today, I was doing some demolition on the side of the house we were working on, tearing down old aluminum siding and framing out windows. Well, I ripped off a piece of siding to reveal a random live wire that was uncovered and had many burn marks in the insulation around it. I though..."huh"... So I called Ross, local hero and work crew leader, he lightly tapped the wire with a hammer and sparks flew out. That's when we were sure it was live. So I thought, "huh". Now, we had hired some local guys to help us run some electrical wire in the addition of the house. One of them who went by the name of Red came out, grabbed the wire with a pair of insulated pliers, causing more sparks to fly out, while he remarked, "Shoot dang!". So we shut the power off, capped the wire, and cleaned up the situation. Forget about it.
But, despite the dangers, if you could really consider them such, it all seemed ok when we went to Ross' house (our crew leader and hero) for a bar-b-que. All of us housing folks went over there; me, Don, Laura, Monica, Ross the kid (not our leader), David, David, Nate, Ann, and Jesse. Joe was the only one not present, and he was greatly missed, I assure you. We ate some fish fry, hush puppies, burgers, hot dogs, and all sorts of fix'ns. We also got to enjoy a beer each. See, we abstain from all sorts of alcohol at the volunteer house, much to my beer snob dismay. But it comes with the territory, and we are all very sure to respect the rules. BUT, when we are able to have a cold beer, it is heavenly. In my opinion, there is no better way to relax after a long day of manual labor than enjoying a couple cold beverages with the ones you love, call me crazy. You should really try it some day, if you never have. Go mow the grass and then sit on your porch, stoop, or armchair, pop open a lager, and try to tell me that you aren't at peace. We sat there, sipping the cold beer, slowly enjoying the burgers and fish and knew there was no finer conclusion to a hard day of work. We watched the sun sink below the hills, savoring the twilight and the company. It was all together peaceful and fulfilling.

Cheers mates.

Quote of the day, By David (Frank): "Girl, my feelings for you are like diarrhea, I just can't hold them in."

The Grey Pilgrim

Fall came today. This isn't to say that by the end of the week we might be back up to 100, but today was, for me, the first day of fall in Kentucky. You can just see the tips of the trees starting to think about turning brown on the tops of the mountains, and everywhere you go, cool breezes shake the first of the falling leaves down, warning the wildflowers of their impending doom in the form of an early frost.
Joe, Jennie, and I went to mass up in the big city of Berea, KY at St. Claire's. (as an aside, I should probably tell you about Joe, since he is on my crew and is a large part of my day in and day out interaction. Joe is a 77 year old man from New Orleans and is a long time volunteer, on and off, with CAP. He has several children, of which he talks often, and is a huge Boston Red Sox fan. Often times, Ross (our fearless crew leader/local hero) will tell Joe that he will make a carpenter out of him, even if he has to marry Joe to a woman with the last name of carpenter. Coincidentally, there is a lovely woman who lives just up Deer Lick road with a bottom this big (extends arms to full wing span) who is just perfect for Joe. Not only that, her father has now taken to paying young gentlemen to take her out on the town. As a reply to Ross' threats/offers, Joe often exclaims, "I AIN'T MARRYING NO CARPENTER WOMAN" then ferociously starts to hammer with much more vigor and accuracy. Joe is a former lawyer and politician down in Louisiana. These characteristics often show through when Joe exclaims, "You're working me too hard today Ross, you ought to be ashamed of yourself" or "never worked so hard in my life". Joe has also taken to 'volunteering' my services to everyone in town. For example, the janitor up at camp needed help with the toilets, and Joe was more than happy to let her know that I was available and that toilets just happened to be my specialty. She was delighted. In all honesty though, he has a heart of gold and has been one of my closest friends here so far. (one might go so far as to say that he is the Gandalf to my Sam...if one was so inclined). We are alike in many ways, except Joe is a STAUNCH Democrat.... I told him I'd discuss politics with him in 3 months. But, our conversation mostly sticks to him working too hard, faith, and Ross' frequency and strength of flatulence.)
Mass at St Claire's was delightful, as was the entire city of Berea. After mass, we stopped by a local pizza place. Berea is a small Christian liberal arts school where every student pays their own way through by working in the community. Students pay for their books, but they also have a job locally which covers their tuition costs. Originally, the school was started to aid Appalachian youth in getting a quality education and apparently, it continues to provide such quality to this day. It had all the charm of a small liberal arts school. I could've sworn - eating that pizza, staring out the window at the brick buildings and turning leaves, feeling the cold breeze drifting through the cracks in the old wood floor, that I was back in Champaign on a Sunday afternoon.
Later in the day, I was taken back to a pseudo-Champaign place when Laura and I were on a run. Running in one of the only flat parts of the state, there was a large corn field which had browned nicely and waited to be harvested. Smelling the corn and staring up at the crisp blue sky fading into an orange and purple sunset, I could've sworn I was running down Race street, or coming up First Street just past the south farms. But I was not. I was in Kentucky. And it is right where I needed to be.

Cheers.
Phrase of the Day: in New York accent: (yeah we're still doing that) "Bears defense, they'll bust yo head, forget aboud it"

Second Breakfast

Today we took part in a repair day down in Owsley County called "repair affair" Our whole house along with about 15 of our friends came out to join the force of 100 volunteers in a kind of housing blitz on the county. Our particular job was to paint an entire house... completely white. Pure as the driven snow I always say. It was really fun because all of us volunteers, some who are not from housing, all got to work together. Jesse, Ross and I kept saying "forget about it" in the style of our recently departed New York friends. "You need a house painted, forget about it, it's done"...and so on. This started around breakfast and did not end until after we got back. Sometimes I hold on to a joke forever, but hey, that's comedic gold baby! Gotta strike while the iron's hot.

I thought I should tell you also how we eat. We get a food budget of 3$ per day per person and this is mainly for fruit, meat, and other perishables. BUT, there is this great place called "operation sharing" where any non-for-profit can go to get food and other needs. Well, we were able to pick up a shower stall for a home we're working on, some bottled water, and some Mexican cereal called Delicioso (it also comes in Delicioso coco) all in one place. Often times, companies will have products that will fail, and they will send it to CAP. For example, we got these delectable life saver gummies (called fruit-splosion) which are very similar to gushers and which I eat by the box full. The whole operation sharing is really a brilliant idea and many many people benefit from it. See what happens when you share?

Where else can you meet two New Yourkers who have plumbed every major hospital in New York but who are still willing to get under a small house in Kentucky for no money at all, where else can you buy a shower stall for a person in need and also buy delicious "Delicioso" cereal for some broke volunteers, where else will 25 kids get up to go scrape and paint for free when they could be watching either Michigan or Notre Dame (or both) embarrass themselves further? Only at CAP baby.

Today's word of the day: we miss the Johnson House

The Road Goes Ever On and On

Apparently, some more explanation is needed on the title of the blog, "hotter than new love". Down here, in sou-east Kentucky, we had some days that topped out near 100 degrees. And, the specific job we were working on is an addition to a house. Now, the air conditioner for the existing house is blowing out hot air directly into the addition, making it a cool 115 degrees in there. And my face would literally rain sweat through my black white sox hat. I was framing up the new walls for the bathroom and for the closet in the new addition, cutting 2x4's to length and hammering them into a new wall. Now our boss and hero, Ross would often exclaim, when it got to be at the hottest point of the day, "it's hotter than new love in here". And indeed it was, very much so, as the wavy sweat marks on the faithful hat can prove. And you know what's hotter than new love, this blog son, that's what.

We had orientation this week at a summer camp which was complete with meetings, prayer, getting to meet all new volunteers and learn all the history we could ever desire about the region and the organization. We also learned the correct pronunciation of Appalachia (apple - at- cha). For me, the best part was the people, by far. We met some people from 3 other volunteer houses and they were some of the greatest people I've meet in a good long time. We swam in the lake, did the rope swing, had a rousing game of ultimate, ate old beef jerky that was donated to the camp and shared many laughs.

I also met 2 plumbers from New York who were volunteering for the week on the job I usually work on. They were quite large and in charge as it were. With deep Italian accents and would often say "forget about it"...you know what I'm talking about. Every day they'd be like, "you coming with us today?!" to which I'd reply, "I have to have orientation". They'd then answer, "I'll give you an orientation, forget about it".

The week was topped off with a cookout with much of the full time employees and almost all the volunteers from our organization....the sky was amazing on the ride home, and I think we only heard the song 'Delila' about 300 times, so not bad. Tomorrow's back to work, hot days, siding to be done, should be easy, forget about it.

Cheers.

phrase of the week: "I heard you guys were from New Jersey..." ---reply: "NEVER HAPPENED"

The Misty Mountains

South East Kentucky. It's early September and it's hotter than new love out here. Ross, our fearless crew leader and contractor, coined this phrase and uses it more than he drops stink bombs near our work area (which is quite often). The following entries shall be devoted to my year in Kentucky, working as a full time volunteer in the Appalachians rebuilding homes and doing my best carpenter impression. I hope also that the blog will serve all my family and friends who may be wondering what I am actually doing down here as our only means of communication are 1. carrier pigeon, 2. smoke signals, and 3. some sort of pony with a rider, possibly an old civil war veteran (cell phones rarely work here). At any rate, this week starts our orientation, up at camp. We will be learning the ins and outs of the volunteer experience. We need to get packing and be off through the woods to make it to camp just in time for me to miss the Bears season opener. But, when I return from orientation, you will all learn the hilarity, adventure, and details of being a volunteer in the Appalachians.
Cheers.

saying of the day, by Ross, "This truck is weaker than cat water"