Anachronistic

You don't have to push a handcart, leave your family dear, or walk a thousand miles or more to be a pioneer.

All you have to do is get a job at This Is the Place Heritage Park. Which is exactly what I did.

As I've been vigorously applying for editing jobs, I have been applying for a few other jobs as well. Recently I visited This Is the Place, and since I had visited their Facebook page, their ads began showing up in my feed.

In the past, I had thought that it would be a fun place to work, but I figured you'd have to be really lucky and/or really smart to get a job there.

Turns out the opposite is true. When I applied for the position, I was surprised that they didn't ask for a resume or even work history, besides a vague question asking about experience working with the public. When I interviewed, they were impressed and said I was the kind of person they wanted working there. They called me an academic. I'm overqualified for the position.

Yet as I thought about it after the interview, I couldn't think of a compelling reason not to take the job. It doesn't pay well. But it pays better than no job. It doesn't give me experience in editing. But neither does doing nothing. I will lose all my free time. It's not like I've been doing amazing things with my free time. I'm shy and socially awkward. This is an opportunity to strengthen my weaknesses. Additionally, this might lead to something unexpected, and I think it helps to have a larger skill set. I'll still be looking for jobs (on a more limited scale), but this will be a fun (hopefully) placeholder in the meantime.

I started work on Tuesday and received quasi-nineteenth-century clothes to wear. (So far they haven't said anything to me about my Fitbit watch.) There are different teams in the park, and I'm on the business team, which includes the telegraph office, the drugstore, the Benjamin F. Johnson saddlery, the print shop, the bank, the barber shop, and the hospital. So far I feel most comfortable in the Deseret News print shop, since I'm familiar with 1850s Utah and publishing. I actually wrote a book chapter about Benjamin Johnson, but I know nothing about saddles and leather, so that building is less comfortable to me. This week I think I will primarily be in the bank.

Anyway, I'm not sure how much is appropriate to share here, because I know sometimes employers don't like having work stuff posted, and who knows who might see this blog. Basically I sit in my assigned building and talk to people when they come in. Some buildings also have kids come in for field trips. If you want any more details, you can ask me in person.

After Earth Day last week, I also wanted to observe Arbor Day. I wanted to transplant a cherry sapling from my sister's yard, but apparently my dad likes grass more than he likes cherries, so he forbade it (even though you can't eat grass). So instead I decided to pull noxious weeds from the Wild Rose Trail.

I'm not sure what's going on in this picture. Somehow my glove got in the way.

For years I have noticed these interesting plants along the trail, but my wildflower books didn't list them. Just this month (maybe last month), I found out what they are. They're not wildflowers at all, but an invasive species called myrtle spurge. They started out in gardens and spread to the foothills. Not only do they crowd out native plants, they are toxic to animals. I wore pants, long sleeves, and gloves, but I did end up with a rash on my wrist.

I threw away five large armfuls of the stuff. (I did leave some of the pulled plants on the hillside, but at least it's dead.) Many people asked me what I was doing and were grateful when I told them. One woman even recognized that I was "purging the spurge," but she said "spurge the purge." I got the idea because apparently there's an Eagle Scout project to get rid of it on Saturday, but I will be working. One woman said she might go to it when I told her what I was doing. There is still an entire hillside covered in the plant, but hopefully the scout's group can get most of it. I have devoted the month of June to eradicating goathead plants, but maybe May should be devoted to eradicating spurge?

I spent the rest of the evening watching a holiday classic and buying a song.

"Look at my pitcher's mound! It's got a tree on it! I can't pitch from there!"

Next stop: Cinco de Mayo!