that is all.
Aw, Lili, leave the girl be. There's plenty of time later in life to worry =
about mortgages, vision and dental coverage, and career building.
When I was twenty-something, I was selling oriental rugs in Harvard Square,=
interviewing axe throwers in Oregon logging towns, sleeping in my truck at=
tractor pulls and rodeos, and camping alone in roadless Oregon wilderness =
areas. I was cooking for elk hunters on a wood stove in a cabin in the Blue=
Mountains and skinning their elk while they hunted. I was partying at Ken =
Kesey's farm, sleeping in his pasture next to the magic bus, making beadwor=
k and batiks, dancing at Grateful Dead shows and the Oregon Country Fair.
I only had a decade after undergrad to be free and independent, between my =
family of origin and my family-to-be. I followed folklore grant jobs from M=
aryland to Virginia to the Carolinas. I was documenting crabbers and oyster=
men, granny midwives and herbalists, coon hunters, moonshiners, boat buider=
s, Amish farmers and pound net fishermen. I never crewed on a Brigantine, b=
ut I spent a little time on a tugboat called Sampit between Southport and B=
eaufort, NC (Elizabeth's town.) They had a diesel cookstove, no lie. I reme=
mber the captain told the crew that I smelled awful pretty for a towboat, a=
nd they ought to roll me in the bilge if I was going to ride along and help=
.
I had a mud spattered 4wd Bronco with tape recorders, cameras and camping g=
ear in the back, surf rods and tiki torches tied to the roof rack, and a bu=
mper sticker that said, "Smith and Wesson: The Ultimate in Feminine Protect=
ion".
Single years with no possessions, no commitments and no long term plans wer=
e some of the most interesting years of my life, and will give me something=
to write about when I am old. Nannying and living on the cheap in Paris, a=
n improbable romance in Italy, street musicians in Amsterdam.
In 1989 I came home to Wilmington from an Independence day party with old O=
hio State buddies in Stone Mountain, Georgia -- (I had ridden through downt=
own Atlanta in the bed of a pickup, with a dead pig and a bottle of Jaegerm=
eister, and after the party found three bullet holes in my tent.) The funni=
est guy I knew in NC had just gotten a job offer in Texas, and on a whim, I=
went with him.
We've been married 20 years, now, in the same house in Toledo, Ohio, and ou=
r kids are 16, 14 and 11. It's a grand adventure and I wouldn't trade it fo=
r all the world. But I'm glad I had those years on my own between school an=
d responsible homeownership/parenthood/running on the employment hamster wh=
eel.
My college friend Leslie worked for months at a time on salmon cannery boat=
s in Alaska, living and eating aboard and wading knee deep in fish guts in =
rubber waders.. then she took her big fat paycheck and went to Europe, rode=
Eurail and traveled the youth hostels until the money ran out. And then ba=
ck to the fish to recharge the bank account.
Youth is for adventure, Lili. My advice: go now, while you can. Do whatever=
calls to you. There will be time enough for caution, diaper washing and co=
upon clipping, lawn mowing and snow shoveling. Get after it. It's a big wor=
ld and you only get a hundred years or so, this time around, if you're luck=
y and take care of the equipment.
Yours
Kelly in Ohio
p.s. Keep us posted on where you're thinking of apprenticing! It's probably=
like choosing a workshop: nobody will give you the dirt up front, in publi=
c, but you'll get some private off list warnings if you're headed for a dic=
ey situation. Take it all with a grain of salt and call your own shots. Go =
get 'em, girl.
http://www.primalpotter.com (website)
http://primalmommy.wordpress.com (blog)
Kelly Savino on sat 2 jan 10
Aw, Lili, leave the girl be. There's plenty of time later in life to worry =
about mortgages, vision and dental coverage, and career building.
When I was twenty-something, I was selling oriental rugs in Harvard Square,=
interviewing axe throwers in Oregon logging towns, sleeping in my truck at=
tractor pulls and rodeos, and camping alone in roadless Oregon wilderness =
areas. I was cooking for elk hunters on a wood stove in a cabin in the Blue=
Mountains and skinning their elk while they hunted. I was partying at Ken =
Kesey's farm, sleeping in his pasture next to the magic bus, making beadwor=
k and batiks, dancing at Grateful Dead shows and the Oregon Country Fair.
I only had a decade after undergrad to be free and independent, between my =
family of origin and my family-to-be. I followed folklore grant jobs from M=
aryland to Virginia to the Carolinas. I was documenting crabbers and oyster=
men, granny midwives and herbalists, coon hunters, moonshiners, boat buider=
s, Amish farmers and pound net fishermen. I never crewed on a Brigantine, b=
ut I spent a little time on a tugboat called Sampit between Southport and B=
eaufort, NC (Elizabeth's town.) They had a diesel cookstove, no lie. I reme=
mber the captain told the crew that I smelled awful pretty for a towboat, a=
nd they ought to roll me in the bilge if I was going to ride along and help=
.
I had a mud spattered 4wd Bronco with tape recorders, cameras and camping g=
ear in the back, surf rods and tiki torches tied to the roof rack, and a bu=
mper sticker that said, "Smith and Wesson: The Ultimate in Feminine Protect=
ion".
Single years with no possessions, no commitments and no long term plans wer=
e some of the most interesting years of my life, and will give me something=
to write about when I am old. Nannying and living on the cheap in Paris, a=
n improbable romance in Italy, street musicians in Amsterdam.
In 1989 I came home to Wilmington from an Independence day party with old O=
hio State buddies in Stone Mountain, Georgia -- (I had ridden through downt=
own Atlanta in the bed of a pickup, with a dead pig and a bottle of Jaegerm=
eister, and after the party found three bullet holes in my tent.) The funni=
est guy I knew in NC had just gotten a job offer in Texas, and on a whim, I=
went with him.
We've been married 20 years, now, in the same house in Toledo, Ohio, and ou=
r kids are 16, 14 and 11. It's a grand adventure and I wouldn't trade it fo=
r all the world. But I'm glad I had those years on my own between school an=
d responsible homeownership/parenthood/running on the employment hamster wh=
eel.
My college friend Leslie worked for months at a time on salmon cannery boat=
s in Alaska, living and eating aboard and wading knee deep in fish guts in =
rubber waders.. then she took her big fat paycheck and went to Europe, rode=
Eurail and traveled the youth hostels until the money ran out. And then ba=
ck to the fish to recharge the bank account.
Youth is for adventure, Lili. My advice: go now, while you can. Do whatever=
calls to you. There will be time enough for caution, diaper washing and co=
upon clipping, lawn mowing and snow shoveling. Get after it. It's a big wor=
ld and you only get a hundred years or so, this time around, if you're luck=
y and take care of the equipment.
Yours
Kelly in Ohio
p.s. Keep us posted on where you're thinking of apprenticing! It's probably=
like choosing a workshop: nobody will give you the dirt up front, in publi=
c, but you'll get some private off list warnings if you're headed for a dic=
ey situation. Take it all with a grain of salt and call your own shots. Go =
get 'em, girl.
http://www.primalpotter.com (website)
http://primalmommy.wordpress.com (blog)
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