Today, February 13, 2007 is one of the rainiest days we’ve experienced this entire semester. All seventeen of us are dry and, for once, warm in the red barn studio. Working at the site in these conditions is pointless, so we have decided to finally update the world on what we’ve been doing for the past five weeks. Our first two weeks consisted of a condensed, yet eye-opening introduction to the Rural Studio and the communities involved. Having grown up in large cities, adjusting to a lifestyle free of televisions and cell phones was initially…interesting? In my mind, I refer to this adjustment as “getting back to the basics.” Without the distractions of the modern day conveniences we’ve become accustomed to, it enabled us to better see and experience the people, the projects, and the strange. Looking back on those first two weeks I remember how enthusiastic our morale was. Week one, neck down! Our enthusiasm was channeled into the realm of helping thesis students with their work. Shoveling, drilling, grinding, planting; our eager minds and hands were put to work. Manual labor makes the day seem incredibly short, increases your appetite by 110 percent, helps you sleep like a baby, and makes you feel pitiful for being so out of shape. Week two, rural studio exploration! Jason and Natalie led us on a tour of several of the rural studio projects. Witnessing the projects first hand proved to be amazing. I remember being so mad at myself for forgetting my camera. Seeing the structures that we had only viewed in photographs, made me realize the strength and possibilities of our group. Week two was also special because it was the first time we could sample the local cuisine. Two words: good food! Homemade pies, smoky barbeque, fried cornbread, sweet pepper jelly, the good kind of fried okra (crispy and not soggy), exquisite chicken salad, rich brownies…I think I’m hungry. I think I’m going to break for lunch early. Before I gain fifteen more pounds, I should also mention “the strange.” “The strange” refers to things that when we first saw them they seemed foreign and, well, strange. It’s funny because now these things are simply aspects of our everyday lives, and are considered common. The angry spitting llama that charged the fence when we photographed it, the preacher who keeps a goose, a three-hundred pound pig, and three horses in his yard, a cemetery with confederate soldiers, a basset hound that chases you when you are jogging, and random mooing from cows in the night. The tale of the next three weeks is to be continued in a matter of hours… lunch time!