I hope this house is clean, Carol Anne

So that feet-to-hooves story must have messed with my mind. I woke up around 3 this morning from a dream in which I was chased and attacked by a poltergeist. When it was just inches from my face, I started screaming; who knows what was actually transpiring in my bed. I'm not much of a screamer in real life, just when I'm about to be attacked by great danes. (Some of you know that story. Good times.) I've been known to talk in my sleep though.

Then, I had another dream with a supernatural element; sadly, I can't remember the details to that one.

And now I discover Tangina from the Poltergeist movies just passed away. Creepy.

yuwipi

There's a church next door to the building in which I live and work. Our property is at the end of a dirt road on the edge of town. Unrecognizable cars sometimes circle around to throw their trash bags in our dumpster. Evidently, a puppy was dumped last night.

Two guys are making repairs on the church. The whimpering puppy belonged to neither one of them. But one of them offered to take it home tonight. He needed a puppy for a yuwipi, a healing ceremony. The Lakota participate in a yuwipi when they seek the source for some sort of negativity in their life and, hopefully, its cure. The puppy comes into play because dog soup is made.

"Wait, are you serious?" I had to make sure he wasn't joking around when he told me this, as he is wont to do.

"No, dog soup is consumed. The broth is kind of greasy."

"But why can't they just take one of the random dogs running loose around town?"

"The dog has to be just the right size and age."

He then told me a story about how his name once came up in a yuwipi. He was fired from his job two weeks later, and he hadn't even been present at the ceremony.

And then there was the story of another man who was excused from a yuwipi for arriving drunk. During his walk home, the man heard footsteps following him down the dirt road. He would turn around only to find he was alone. He continued to hear the footsteps, which sounded more like it was a cow or a deer following him. Still, he was by himself on the path. The man began to run, but the animal kept pace. He then looked down to find his feet had turned into hooves. By the time he made it all the way home, his feet had returned.

The church is just outside my bedroom window. It's quiet out there now. The construction guy must have taken the puppy home.

Today in bulleted form

• We received a $1,500 check this morning from a company in Winner. The store manager came out to present the check. I then gave him a tour of the five-bedroom home we're building for a family with 12 children. He's excited about Habitat and wants to spend a day on the job site this spring with his employees.
• I had low expectations, but I came away with a $300 check for a rebar cutter-bender during an afternoon meeting. The effort-to-reward ratio was the highest for any project I've worked on since arriving here over a year ago. But it pays (literally!) to be prepared.
• Tonight was our monthly Board meeting. I'm thankful I have a good grasp of when it's appropriate to be optimistic versus realistic. I was the foil for my E.D.
• A Board member brought some kick-ass lasagna for the meeting. Another brought her perfect, homemade banana bread. And I got to keep the leftovers of both.
• I wish people who want to give up but don't have the guts to say so would just be honest with themselves and the rest of the group and just leave. Stop pretending as though events are out of your control. I can see through it; I'm sure others can as well.
• I had a great conversation with an education major thinking about teaching here in Todd County after graduation. She's looking for something different and, boy, is she going to get it.
• I was told tonight that I'm obviously someone comfortable in his own skin. I would agree with that assessment.
• "How old are you?" "I'll be 32 in April." "You don't look it." I agree with that assessment as well! I really liked saying I'm turning 32. And I'm thankful this experience hasn't, apparently, aged me too much.
• I'm already thinking about lasagna and banana bread for lunch tomorrow.

19 weeks later

I had my golden locks cut off today while in Rapid. The hairdresser just stared at me, via the mirror, when I told her I wanted my usual 3-and-2 cut. I just wanted it all gone. So, I'm bald again, four and a half months of work gone in about five minutes. If I ever start talking about letting my hair grow out, please knock some sense into me.

I feel so much better now. And lighter.

The end is near - again

I consider myself to be a generally upbeat guy. So when I say I'm surprised to find myself in such a state of giddiness this evening, I'm not trying to give the impression I'm usually mired in the gray blahs. But it's cold outside; my dry, cracked hands seem impervious to moisturizer; I haven't run since Monday; and I had to vacate my "home" this evening to accommodate a late meeting. I shouldn't be in a pleasant mood.

I did have an evening of peace after all, however. I started reading "My Antonia," which I already love. And I'm treating myself to a day in the city (Rapid City, that is) tomorrow.

Mostly though, my thoughts are on the future. The near future, to be precise. I have two grad school choices. Money could be the factor that chooses the school for me; otherwise, I see the good in both programs and their respective locations. I'm not sure I have a preference at this point.

My summer plans and how long I remain here in Mission hinge on this decision. I'd like to make a trip back to Delaware to see my family and pickup some boxes I shipped to them prior to leaving Alaska. I also want to make the long haul up to Juneau for a visit. And, oh yeah, I have to pack up the car and move. Again.

I'm thankful my thoughts tonight turned toward what may be found around the proverbial bend in the road as opposed to worrying about what I'm about to leave behind here in Mission. It's a distinct shift to positive thinking from my anxiety as of late.

What will happen to Habitat after I leave? Is it really time to start all over again, again? What about the relationships I've made here? Am I even ready to go?

These questions are tempered by some cold facts. As evinced by tonight's events, for example, I really, really want a place of my own again. Sure, I can joke about how I'm Mr. Adaptability (and you better believe I am!), but it's time to make a home again.

I haven't talked much on here lately about Habitat. But the organization is hurting right now. I've pushed the boundaries of what it means to be a VISTA, and it still isn't enough. And it won't ever be enough as long as it feels as though it's me against the world.

Good things are still happening though. The Habitat year in review I wrote for the Tribune was published in last week's edition. It turned out really well. And I received a phone call yesterday notifying me of a successful grant application. It was funded for the full amount requested, in fact.

I have four, maybe six, more months here in Mission. From the start, I've considered myself more an employee of Habitat than a VISTA. Maybe that's where these mixed emotions are coming from. VISTA assignments have both a start and an end date; I'd conveniently blotted out the latter. And it's starting to really hit me that this really wasn't an open-ended commitment.

I don't know what my remaining time on the rez will bring. It will certainly look much different than what has already transpired. A lot is still up in the air. It's exciting on one hand; on the other, I've seen some foreshadowing of what may be in store, at least as far as Habitat is concerned.

What I've told people in e-mails and phone calls (which both allow for more candidness than this medium) is my time here seems to get crazier and more challenging by the day. But I still wouldn't change a single thing about this experience. I guess that says something, right?