An Ode to Cacti

Oh look, some cacti enjoying the sunshine in Canyonlands.

For some reason, I have a small cactus obsession (not an obsession with small cacti, but an obsession with cacti that is not very extreme... yet).  It's kind of the same with succulents, but because really trendy things awaken some kind of "anti-mainstream" complex in me, I'm trying to keep a lid on that one.  Don't worry, I do have a few succulents, so I'm not totally depriving myself.  

I'm assuming I like cacti so much because, well, they weren't really around in Indiana, and seeing things in real life that I've only seen in pictures turns me into a child.  

Utah doesn't have those traditional fork-shaped cacti... those are further south and at lower elevation, but we do have a lot of prickly pear cacti.  Whenever I go hiking, I inevitably end up with one or two (or five or six) cactus pictures.  They are usually preceded by me shrieking "A CACTUS!" like a little girl and running over to it.  

One time, when we were out on a pictograph/petroglyph hunt, I meandered off the trail a little ways and Justin found me entranced in the middle of a little prickly pear forest.  

SO MANY CACTI

So, my apologies, this post is nothing more than an excuse for me to compile some of my cacti pictures and look at their cute little spiny selves.  I hope you enjoy them too.   

It's an extra-poofy cactus!

It's a cactus who overtook a plant!

This is not a cactus.  Just making sure you're paying attention.  And yuccas are nice too.

It's an extra spiky cactus!  I think this one's the "mojave" variety of prickly pear.

And finally... baby cacti!

Right now you're probably having some kind of "oh my gosh, this is Amber's sad life now" moment.  It's true.  I used to spend my time with lots of people, and now it's lots of cacti.  But really, people and cacti are not so different.  To really appreciate either of them, you have to find the beauty in all the spikes.

Coordinator of Edible Things

I suppose (5 months after I got here) it's high time I talk a little bit about what I actually do at work, other than the youth cooking classes.  This will probably be the boring post, but it must be done...

First, PACT as an organization operates a few different things.  There's Pyramid Youth Programs, Food Programs, the Green River Thrift Store, and Cottonwoods on the Green, a collection of affordable apartments.  My title within PACT is Food Programs VISTA.  Andrea said recently that she saw a job title for a position similar to mine that was called something like "Edible Schoolyard Coordinator".  I don't deal in schoolyards, but I like the sound of it.  So just call me the Coordinator of Edible Things.  

This is a picture of the community center from last year with some of the youngsters in front of it.

Currently PACT's Food Programs only includes the Green River Food Pantry, which provides supplemental food assistance to Green River residents whose income is below a certain level. The nature of the economy in Green River (seasonal jobs, service and hospitality industry, farming work) mean that 33% of residents live below the poverty line.  That's a pretty high number.

(If it starts to sound like I'm trying to convince you to give money to our programs, it's just because I've written a lot of grants recently.)

So, my job is to expand PACT's Food Programs to include other food-related community initiatives.  These can be broken down into three major categories.

The Silent City Garden Project
This community and youth garden will have space for multiple things.  Some raised beds will be set aside for community members to plant whatever they desire.  A larger area will be the "PACT garden" portion, where PACT staff and volunteers will grow produce to distribute in the community.  Most of the produce will be distributed in a nonprofit food box program, where community members can sign up to receive a food box every week or two weeks at a low price.  Finally, the garden will include space for an expanded youth garden- space for the youngsters to learn, experiment, and grow what they eat.

Last week we got approval from City Council to use this empty lot for the garden space, which we're pretty excited about.  It will be contained either within Space 1 or Space 2.

Workshops
There's not much opportunity for adult education in Green River, so our goal is to help people become more informed about nutrition, cooking, gardening- basically food in general.  The goal is to offer about one workshop per month for gardening and another for cooking.  Thankfully we're able to partner with Utah State University extension services for some of these.

Community Meals
The food pantry is great, but being able to bring people in to sit down together and enjoy a hot meal would be even better.  Especially in the winter when jobs are low.  So, our goal is to provide monthly or bi-weekly hot meals, totally free, possibly combined with other fun activities.  There used to be a hot meal delivery program for the elderly here, and we'd like to get that started back up a couple of times a week.  Both of these meal programs, however, depend on a lot of funds.

Which brings me to what I've really been doing since I've arrived in Green River.  Aside from teaching and planning for cooking classes (which does take a decent amount of time), I've spent most of my time conceptualizing programs and writing grants.  So many grants (well really like 6 or 7, but it feels like more).  For those of you who are unfamiliar with this concept, I'll explain it a little.  Some nonprofits fund themselves through their operations, but the rest of us need federal or private funding (or some combination of any of those).  Foundations and organizations who have money to give accept applications from organizations who would like to use that money for programs, operating costs, capital projects, whatever.  All of my potential programs are dependent on receiving money from grantors.  No grants, no money, no programs.

None of this probably sounds very exciting, but it will be more so when things become real.  If they become real.  This may be a small town, but developing and running programs is still not easy.  In fact, it may sometimes be more difficult because of the small number of people and resources there are to draw from.  The worst part of my job is that everything depends on me and my ability to make things happen.  The best part of my job is that everything depends on me and my ability to make things happen.  It's a great and somewhat terrifying learning experience.

#FurrerFrenzy2015

I've had a few people ask about our family vacation to Orlando, Florida, so I thought I'd tell you a little bit about it from my perspective- a 24-year-old with no children. (;

It begins on Friday, December 19th, the day of the annual employee Christmas party.  I've come home early from Utah to help, and per the usual, I'm running around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to get everything ready for the party.  This is always a pretty stressful (albeit worthwhile) day for the Furrer household.  Every year my dad decides to make way too much food, and every year my mom berates him for having so many offerings.  Every year my sisters and I just try to manage the chaos.  Perfect day to leave for vacation, right?  Well, it gets better.  After an afternoon of putting out many (figurative) fires and cleaning up, my dad still needed to make 200 biscuits for his friend Rudy's customer appreciation breakfast.  "I've made them for him for 12 years!", he says.  "Eye roll", everyone else says.  But, of course, we pitch in and churn out the biscuits in about an hour as the rest of the family arrives and mom finishes (or starts?) packing.  

In case you're wondering, this is the new shop's kitchen, not the house's.  (: 

Finally, at about 9:00 PM, after much to do, the family (all 23 of us) was gathered and the bus loaded.  No small undertaking with all the suitcases, kid stuff, and 4 or 5 coolers full of food and leftovers.  The bus is a former tour bus for a family of singers from the 90's.  So it's beautiful, in a hideous kind of way.  Miraculously, we all fit on it.  There wasn't a place for everyone to sleep, so the children got the 7 bunk beds and the adults... just didn't get much sleep.    

Isn't she a beaut?

I think the best way to describe the bus (and really, the entirety of vacation) is just chaos- punctuated by the screams, laughter, and cries of the children and comments from adults. "Can I sleep in my underwear??" (Luke)  The kids loved it because it was pretty much a confined play space, most of the adults tolerated it, and I liked it because for some reason I like being in the midst of chaos.  I think it's just because I like observing... I like taking in a scene with all it's people and their interactions, and the more chaos the more to see.  It might be different if I had my own children. (:  

On the way down we stopped at a very busy Chick-fil-A and took up no less than 5 parking spots.  By far the most difficult undertaking with 23 people is going to a restaurant of any kind.  The best part was yelling "We're going through the drive through, give Dad your orders!", which Heather (Hoerr) actually believed.  

The house we arrived at in Florida was the polar opposite of the bus.  Huge and spacious, modern, clean, and well-equipped.  There were 9 bedrooms, a backyard pool, an arcade room, pool table, and a home theater.  It was the perfect space to enjoy being together without being too much together, and there was plenty to do without leaving the house.  Most of our time was spent here, except for the days we went to Legoland and Disney.  That house might never be the same though, especially the kitchen.  I don't think it's been accustomed to the cooking of the Furrers.  No one is crazy enough to make almost all their meals, right?  

I think I (and probably everyone) spent most of their time watching, chasing, consoling, or laughing at one child or another.  I speculated that we went no more than 10 minutes in between crying episodes, but at least they usually took turns rather than all melting down at once.  It's a little sad I suppose that the adults don't get to spend more time together, but it's just a phase that will pass.  All too soon, I'll look back on it and laugh.  And then Callie will have kids. (;     

These are some of my favorite pictures.  I think they fairly accurately depict the moments that filled our house.  

Ok, so I wasn't always chasing kids...

The whole family went to Legoland, and to spare you a lot of details, I'll just say that it was a really nice, small park, perfect for children.  Because the entire group stayed together most of the time, I found it exhausting (in the same way that I'm sure herding cats is exhausting), but it was still fun to see the kids enjoy themselves.  Disney was an entirely different experience, as Andrea, Callie, and I just ran around Magic Kingdom doing what we wanted and having a blast.  We managed to never wait in line for longer than 30 minutes, which we were pretty proud of.  If you need Disney advice, we'll be happy to contract our services. (;

This scene is just...... perfect.

I was genuinely so excited to meet Piglet.  Disney just gets to you.

One highlight was a little shopping, lunch, and manicure outing the women of the family took while the men watched the children.  I think that was the first time we've ever spent time together with just us!  Lest you feel bad for the men, they went to an Orlando Magics game that night and had a great time.  Except for the questionable Boston Lobster Feast experience they had prior to the game (Lobster in Florida is just not a good idea).  

Another highlight was watching the two Home Alone movies on separate nights in the theater.  Not only are those movies still as great as ever, 10 children who laugh ridiculously loud at every physical comedy moment make them all the better.

My final highlight was on the way home, when we stopped at Wild Eggs in Louisville for breakfast.  I ended up at a table with Callie, Mark, Troy, Briana, and 5 of the children, while the rest ended up at a couple of other tables.  You can kind of feel the whole restaurant looking at you when you're with a group like that, ya know?  At some point Briana left the table and sat somewhere else, so we decided it probably looked like I was Mark's mail order bride and I'd already popped out 5 children, which Callie took care of as our nanny.  Troy was just the weird uncle.  The validity of this scenario was confirmed when Callie went to the bathroom and a lady asked, "Are you from that table with all the kids?  Are they all from the same family??".  Surprisingly, after a sleepless night, the kids were all well-behaved, but I'm sure the wait staff still breathed a sigh of relief when we were gone.  

Getting home from family vacation always comes with a bittersweet feeling for me.  I'm happy to be back in a comfortable place without a certain amount of stress, but I also feel the absence of so many people I love around me.  Family vacation has always been one of my favorite things.  I'd take it over presents any day.  Not because of the exotic places we go to (because we don't), but because it's one of the few times we're ever all stuck together.  As the family grows, many would say it seems crazier and crazier to do this sort of thing.  I say what's life without a little crazy in it?  Boring.  And at the end of the day I'd put up with pretty much anything to spend time with all of them. (: 

I hope I don't have to eat those words...

Early Mornings

As a service oasis for I-70, Green River has quite a few restaurants per capita.  Aside from chain fast food restaurants (Burger King, Subway, Arby's, and Blimpie) and the coffee shop, there's Ray's Tavern- the classic burger joint, Westwinds- the 24-hour truck stop that serves breakfast all day, Chow Hound- serving up homemade fast food since the 70's, and the taco truck (La Pasadita)- maker of delicious and authentic Mexican food.  All of these are pretty decent, but the Tamarisk is the undisputed best restaurant in Green River, except for a few people who would argue (with some validity) that the taco truck is actually the best.

Disclaimer: I stole this picture from the internet because I'm too lazy to go and take a picture of Ray's.  But isn't it a nice little place?

And I stole this one for the same reason.  The fact that the taco truck is parked under an old shell station just makes it better.  And that store adjoining the truck has so many delightfully weird things... anything from pickled pork rinds to stilettos and a large purple Viking winter coverall.

Back in Lafayette, I would order a burger at a restaurant maybe, I don't know, three times a year?  Here, I order a burger probably twice a month.  Burgers, Mexican food (sometimes even a burger at a Mexican restaurant), and the occasional sub or roast beef sandwich... that's pretty much the extent of my eating out.  Sounds... drab?  It's taken a bit of adjustment, and if there's anything I miss in Green River it's probably food, but overall it's not too hard to adjust to life with limited options.  Luckily I enjoy almost all foods.  And maybe it pushes me to experiment with a few more things myself.

For the first few months I lived in Green River, I had the pleasure of working in the Tamarisk three mornings a week, from 7:00 am to 11:00 am, before going to my main job at PACT.  The only reason I don't anymore is that everything gets a lot slower around here during the winter, and I just wasn't needed.  Tamarisk is a strange-sounding thing, but it didn't take me long to learn that it was named after a bush plant the covers the banks of the Green River.  Turns out, it's one of those tried-to-help-but-planted-an-invasive-species gone wrong things.  The name also gives really no indication of what type of restaurant one could expect. It began as a typical burgers and steak family restaurant, and in some ways it still is, but with a nice facelift.  Pictures on their website will explain more than I ever could about the style of the place, so I'll just say I think it's pretty great.

In a world where everyone and their mother wants to start a restaurant, working in a restaurant kitchen may sound glamorous or exciting to some degree, but it probably shouldn't.  For those of you who haven't really thought through it (I hadn't), this is basically how a casual dining restaurant kitchen works.  Every week, a large amount of food gets ordered from a food service company, such as Sysco, which will deliver anything from fresh produce to soup bases to ready-to-bake pies.  The Tamarisk, like many restaurants (much to my regret), actually buys a lot of their food pre-made.  The soups, the mashed potatoes, the pies, gravies, sauces, corned beef, boxed cakes, boxed biscuits, and so on.  I suppose the trick at a restaurant is figuring out what they make homemade, for example, like the Tamarisk's massive cinnamon rolls, their fry bread, and their fresh salsas.

Navajo fry bread, by the way, is something like a flat, not sweet funnel cake.  Maybe like the shell of a gordita?  That, the excess of green chili, and "fry sauce"- basically a combination of ketchup and mayonnaise- are probably the most unique things I've found about Utahan cuisine.  They're also notoriously bad at coffee because, you know, Mormons don't drink it.

But I digress.  So you've got all this food you've ordered from Sysco, and it has to be transformed to what the customer wants in a short amount of time during the dinner or breakfast rush.  This is where the prep cook, such as I, would come in.  I usually started the day by slicin' and dicin' tons of vegetables (like, 12-20 quarts or so).  Tomatoes, peppers, white onions, red onions, mushrooms... then maybe slicing ham, prepping bacon to be baked, making salsas, vinaigrette, guacamole, etc. To end the morning, I would pack off the Tamarisk's lunch and dinner side offerings (roasted corn & peppers, broccoli, mashed potatoes, lime cilantro rice, and applesauce) into small containers that could be quickly heated in the microwave and put on the plate.  Basically, you get all the ingredients or foods into the most convenient form for the line cook to use.  

It was hard to take pictures while working, especially since it required washing my hands, but here are a few snapshots.  I loved seeing the bright colors and visual patterns that emerge when you make things on a large scale... the slightly different shades of red pepper, huge vinegar and oil separations, layers of fresh ingredients in the mango salsa...

Aside from the prep cook, there's the dishwasher and whoever is working on the line- the place where the grilling happens and where everything comes together.  Then, just outside the kitchen there's the expediters or runners that act as a go-between for the front of the house and the kitchen and make sure the timing is right on everything.

For the most part I genuinely liked my job.  Everyone I worked with in the kitchen was Hispanic with varying levels of English competency.  Usually it was just me and Sami for awhile in the morning, who used hand signals, writing, and the occasional affectionate shoulder squeeze to convey what he needed to.  So for the most part we spent our time in companionable silence, me chopping and him grilling, bonding over Vanessa Carlton on Pandora.  The banes of my existence were probably chopping onions (because, of course, they make you cry), spending so much time in a walk in cooler, dicing unruly green peppers (the way those ends curl up just make them the most difficult veggie to cut evenly) and the little fridge that electrocuted me if I happened to accidentally touch the adjacent metal counter-top at the same time.  The best part was definitely getting a delicious breakfast of my choosing every morning.

Some mornings breakfast looked like this...

And other mornings it looked like this...

Between making food at the Tamarisk, making snacks for the children, leading cooking class, making the occasional group dinner, and cooking for myself, for a little while it felt like I was cooking all the time.  I liked cooking all through college, but it also felt like I made the same things a lot.  All these different avenues have given me the chance to try a lot more "classic" things, like biscuits, donuts, chicken Parmesan, cornbread, homemade yogurt, fritters... things I've always wanted to know how to make I just wouldn't normally make for myself.  I've started keeping a food journal (idea credit goes to Juan), which is a pretty cool way to keep track of the things I'm making and how they turn out.  

And aside from improving my knife skills and increasing my kitchen efficiency, I feel as though my time working at the Tam has given me some valuable perspective on the way everything works in a restaurant kitchen.  Who know's when that kind of knowledge could come in handy. (;

It's the Simple Things

There are so many small things that make living and working in a small town such a unique experience.  It should seem normal to me, I suppose, coming from rural Indiana (because despite some differences, a small town is a small town), but I've realized that experiencing life as a child/high schooler is very different from experiencing it as an adult.  I also don't feel like our family was involved in Reynolds town happenings to the extent that I am here.

So here's life in Green River:

I live 2 minutes away from everything except the Subway and Arby's out at the other end of town (about 5 minutes).  I drove there the other day and seriously felt myself thinking "ugh, this is so far".  Hmm.  A little perspective, Amber.  Ironically, I live closer to a grocery store (a small one) than I ever have before.  I once left my house at 4:54, grabbed a couple of things at the Melon Vine, and made it to Ray's Tavern right at 5:00, in time to beat everyone else to dinner.  Which is better, living further from a plethora of things, or living closer to the essentials?  I guess they both have their pros and cons. 

I usually make a game out of trying to get somewhere without putting on my seat belt, which I believe dings after about a minute.  It hardly ever works, but I'm usually still too stubborn to put it on.  Unfortunately, I believe the dinging of my car is exceptionally annoying.

You'll find any number of interesting vehicles on the road in Green River, and I use the term "vehicle" pretty loosely.  I've seen ATV's, lawn mowers, scooters...

In case you thought I was joking...

In Indiana, farmers do the two-finger wave on the back roads, but here, everyone just waves to everyone in town when they drive past.  Green Riverites' vehicle recognition game is pretty strong, and there's kind of a visibile "car culture" is because of its current role and history as a traveler's stopping point.  It's so much like Radiator Springs from Cars that part of me is convinced the writers drew inspiration from here.  If you combine that movie and McFarland, USA (that is not a racist joke, just the truth), you've pretty much got Green River.   

There are so many things that happen in small towns that just wouldn't happen anywhere else... I once rode down main street in the back of Justin's truck (in a skirt) holding onto an electric organ because his tailgate doesn't close. We've also shoved a large canoe and a kayak in the back of that truck, which unfortunately fell off in the middle of the street and almost pulled his truck over.  Apparently our ratchet strap skills aren't up to snuff.  

Yes, those are go carts.  That's Doreen, her husband, and her daughter Cassidy, and they're pretty great.

People, including myself, also park on the wrong side of the street all the time (and just generally wherever they want) because I just don't think parking tickets are a thing here. Since many of the streets don't have sidewalks, we usually just walk (or rollerblade) in the middle of them. 

Many people here don't have emails, and if they do, they have terrible email etiquette.  The best way to get a hold of someone is probably calling or dropping by, and the best way to advertise for something is hanging up flyers in the post office, Chow Hound, and the grocery store.  Coming from a large university where technology and efficiency are key, I experienced a bit of a culture shock when I realized that Justin had to text or call all the parents if they had to move soccer practice (this process is extra inefficient because Justin refuses to get a smart phone... right now he actually has no phone at all, much to his enjoyment and Hope and I's dismay).

That dropping by thing also happens pretty often during the work day.  People just come and chat for awhile.  It's great if it's someone I'd like to form a relationship with, but increasingly less tolerable the less that's the case.  I love people, but I'm pretty task oriented.  This also shows up when Hope chats to me about something across our desks and I (unintentionally, of course) find myself nodding and going "mhmm" while not really listening at all.  This unfortunate role in my life is usually filled by Andrea, and I imagine she's probably glad for a break. 

And of course, everyone here knows everyone. Even I, who have only been here for 3 months, can't go many places at all without knowing someone. Justin and Hope (or sometimes me) drop the kids off at the end of Afterschool, and Justin knows not only where all the children live, but also their grandmother, aunt, cousin, step-uncle's sister's ex-husband... ok, not really.  But it is handy that he has a couple of back-up plans if their parents aren't home, which happens far more than it should. 

I think it's so easy to get caught up in the idea that I can't relate with people in this western, outdoor-and-hunting-focused, poor small town.  That once someone has gone to a university, lived in a city, or seen some of the world it's just too difficult to spend time those who haven't.  But one of my favorite things about Green River is the cross-economic and cultural friendships that I've seen.  Some of the most well-known and liked people in town are also those who need to visit the food pantry from time to time, and I think that's pretty cool.           

When I was living in Lafayette, I definitely thought, "There's no way I could ever move back to a town like Reynolds".  Of course there are always frustrations, but I'm finding that a small town fits my personality pretty well.  Don't misunderstand me, I'm not planning to move back to Reynolds.  I do, however, love a small community with its opportunities to get to know people and wear a lot of hats.  I love that the definition of a fun weekend is a hike, movie, community meal, and a campfire.  It may not seem so, but it's possible to have a "real life" in the middle of nowhere, it just requires some priority adjustment.  

Pied Pipers of Pests

One of the downsides of living in the desert is the number of interesting creatures that make themselves a part of your daily life.  It's like nature is saying, "It's the desert. You don't belong here, and we're just going to invade your living space".

I wouldn't have considered myself particularly afraid of mice, but I have discovered how much I incredibly dislike them living in my house or seeing them scamper across the floor.  I scream every time.  Hope, my roommate, hates mice.  HATES mice.  So when we discovered them, we went on a mouse killing spree.  At first, she tried to buy those nice traps that I guess just lock the mouse inside so you don't have to deal with the messiness of getting rid of their body.  Well, those didn't work.  If you ever have to deal with mice in your house, just go for the real thing right away... good old fashioned snap traps. We caught two in right in a row with that deadly combination of peanut butter and swift precision.  However, getting rid of their dead bodies from those traps is pretty much the worst thing ever. Just spend the extra $1.50 to get a new set. 

There are any number of large bugs crawling around these parts, so I've gotten pretty used to that.  Beetles, cockroaches, and crickets are everywhere.  One night I had the misfortune of sharing my room with a cricket, and it's chirping kept me awake for at least a half hour before I finally determined to catch/kill it.  Turns out that's pretty difficult, and I lost another half hour of sleep dancing around my room trying to uncover and outsmart this cricket.  I finally trapped it under a glass and left it there to slowly die.  Is Utah making me more morbid?  Possibly.  It's the raw, primal wild west.  (;

What even is that?!? It's like a butterfly mated with a bumblebee.  You never know what you'll find hiking in the desert.

Our office at the community center seems to attract an inordinate number of flies.  My whole body tingles when a fly buzzes in my ear, but apparently some people don't mind them.  Like Justin.  He'll just sit there and let them crawl all over him,  (I think it's relevant to mention here that Justin's dream job is a monk).  So when Hope and I take turns going on killing rampages (I'm not even over-dramatizing that), the flies seem to know that he's a safe zone. 

Just a typical day in the office

They're not pests per se, but I couldn't go without mentioning the Green River pack of dogs- or several packs, really- that run around disturbing slumber and sanity with their barking and antics.  Some are strays, some have owners, it really doesn't matter.  Most of them are evil.  They're all small dogs too, which makes it worse.  One evening a group of 6 or so chased me an entire block on my bike, yapping at my tire and making a whole lot of racket.  It was annoying of course, but the worst part was wondering if they would ever actually leave me or whether I would have to resort to more extreme measures.

This picture represents Green River in a lot of ways.  But just look at all those dogs!

And even though it's the desert, living by a river means there are the ever-present mosquitoes which definitely disrupt my evening bike rides.

On the positive side, I guess you would just call these run-ins with pests character building experiences.  And lest I'm making it sound like this isn't a place you would ever want to come, it's still worth it.  (:

Cooking Class

Picture standing behind a counter top as 10 or so children come running in the door, all demanding a snack and yelling about something or another.  You remind them for the thousandth time that they have to hang up their bags and wash their hands first.  They then proceed to complain about the snack that they were previously demanding, probably because it contains a vegetable (oh the horror) and there are wheat crackers instead of white crackers.  You've imagined my life now, or at least part of it.

Now that I've been here a couple of months, I've obviously gotten a lot deeper into my work (which I love, by the way... most of the time).  Just one part is teaching cooking classes on Tuesdays to elementary-aged youth of the town as part of the Afterschool program that PACT, my non-profit, offers.  In addition to that, I also take care of their snack every day after school, and most days it really just feels like I have 10-15 rambunctious children.  I cook for them, occasionally do laundry, listen to their stories and complaints, attempt to get them to mind, and clean up their dishes.  Sooo many dishes.  We don't have a dishwasher, so it feels like I'm literally always doing dishes.  If you think that cleaning peanut butter out of one measuring cup is bad, try like 10.

When you imagine me teaching youth cooking classes, you might picture a group of children in little aprons and chef hats staring adoringly at me as I demonstrate bread kneading or knife skills.  Ha.  More like me desperately trying to control a room full of unruly little devils.  They are grabby, loud, manipulative, constantly moving, needy, rude, and picky, among a number of other things.  Tonight I had to discipline three girls for eating mouthfuls of raw rice after I took it away and told them not to. Seriously?  RAW RICE?  If you're going to get in trouble, go for the big box of leftover Halloween chocolate sitting on the counter.  There are cooking days that have gone well, and days that have made me want to cry (I've only actually cried once).  Justin gets mad at me when I call them devils because he thinks it's too negative.  I think it's more just that I am realistic...

And yet, I love them, and I love it when I can tell they actually understand or remember something.  There are just the moments that make it all worth it.  Like when Estephanie tells me that she started coming to Afterschool because she loves cooking day.  Or when I get Christian or Ellie to try just one bite of something without dramatically gagging.  Or when tough little Brian begs to cut up the onions and then paces around the room with tears streaming down his face.  Or when at least half of the kids like the pureed pumpkin and sweet potato soup (a miracle).

Yes, little by little, these little devils have made themselves lovable.  They've become part of my days and my life.  I love it when they tell me their stories and cling to me when they're too scared to go into the haunted house on Halloween.  When they ask me to read to them or to watch them play soccer or show me their drawings.  I love it when I can tease them and when they want me to play with them.  Teaching them and corralling them may stress me out... like I'm always pretty nervous on cooking days... but I'm glad I'm doing it.  And really, they need it.  They need me and the other staff here at PACT.  Not even the cooking skills so much as just a positive couple of hours in their after-school day.  

These kids have much harder lives than mine ever was. Almost 100% of students in the Green River elementary school qualify for free and reduced lunch.  Currently, every single child that comes to Afterschool is Hispanic.  Their parents seem to work all the time, and many of them just run around the town doing what they want.  They don't have a plethora of positive role models, and they probably don't eat very well at home.  All of these things help remind me to be patient with their behavior and their eating habits... most of the time.    

Cook days have gone a little better as both they and I have adjusted our expectations and gotten used to one another.  If I can teach them just one or two things by the end of the year, whether it be that vegetables and whole grains won't kill them, the meaning of the term "fold"... or even just how to work quietly, listen, and share... I'll feel like I have succeeded in some way. It's baby steps.  

I think this is the only picture I have of cooking day, which Hope snapped on our very first venture.  This is during tasting time, when the children proclaimed the salsa to be "gross" and have "too much onion", and then proceeded to eat 10 chips full.

Oh, and P.S... Please go and thank a childcare provider or elementary school teacher.  And if you are one, THANK YOU.