Someone's sure to understand what I mean.
D'you ever get the feeling, when you're reading a job ad, that THIS is the job that you're PERFECT for? The stars seem aligned, and everything the ad mentions wanting is something you have, something you already DO. You have the experience to prove it. And yet, the job's in such a lovely, sunny place that surely tons of people want to work in. It starts to seem like really, in the end, no matter how perfect you are for the job, the people behind the job just might not interview you anyway.
(sigh)..... if only.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
today
at 7:00 am, woke up to alarm and mewing cat. Made groaning noises at cat and violently slapped alarm clock for about 30 minutes. Prepared for class, taught class, met with two students, copied material for one of these students (who's asked me to direct an honors project), returned work-related emails, did some work for a program I'm heading, ate (finally, at 4:30 or so), did more committee-related stuff, came home (after 8pm), did some reading/planning for class tomorrow, wrote up a paper assignment.
It's 10:44 p.m. now. I'm still not ready for tomorrow's 3 classes. Before 9 am I MUST:
I'm so, so tired.
It's 10:44 p.m. now. I'm still not ready for tomorrow's 3 classes. Before 9 am I MUST:
- finish creating unit syllabus
- make photocopies
- finish reading play/ planning my Shakespeare class
- finish planning 2 other classes
- grade response papers so I can hand them back (I'm behind)
- shower
- sleep
- cry
I'm so, so tired.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
what the... ?
In class discussion today, a student very suddenly got up and bolted out of the classroom. I'm not at all sure what was going on-- my back was turned when he stood up-- but it seems like something offended him. We've been talking about conversational styles, using the Tannen material I mentioned earlier, and how we've been able to see some of them playing out in our classroom (which is predominantly male). Mike (we'll call him) always has something to say in class-- many times, it's something with substance, too. Near the start of the semester, he would just blurt out his ideas, and since I instituted a hand-raising rule, he'll do the thing where he sometimes raises his hand and starts talking without waiting for me to call on him. Today he had his hand up for more extended periods of time. I noticed him, but would call on other students who hadn't said as much in class. When he'd blurt, I think he could tell that I (and other students in the class) weren't responding to him in perhaps the way he'd like.... he said something about feeling like other students were "looking at him funny." Maybe he felt singled out somehow? I don't want to shut this guy up; I only want him to be a bit more aware of his surroundings, and especially of the fact that other people in the room have things to say.
I've had a hard time with this class all semester, and while the hand-raising rule has improved things, it's not always being followed, and discussions still aren't running as smoothly as I wish they were... so we'll come at it again on next time and hope things go better. I'm trying to approach this problem in a calm and constructive way, and I'm trying to get them to think about the way they're interacting with each other. What I hope is that, as a class, we can draft a set of rules for how discussions are going to work from here on out. Maybe hearing their classmates' persepectives will make the problem folks more considerate?
And yet... enough is enough, really. I'm tired of having to yell over people when everyone starts talking at once. I'm tired of having to stop the interrupters from interrupting. I'm tired of students carrying on private conversations when others are addressing remarks to the entire class. Frankly, a number of people are being quite rude. I've tried to address this several times, and maybe they need a lengthier Come-to-Jesus lecture, too, like the kind Professor Bastard describes well (in a very offensively-titled blogpost, though, I must say).
Oh, damn it all. I hate having to discipline college students.
I've had a hard time with this class all semester, and while the hand-raising rule has improved things, it's not always being followed, and discussions still aren't running as smoothly as I wish they were... so we'll come at it again on next time and hope things go better. I'm trying to approach this problem in a calm and constructive way, and I'm trying to get them to think about the way they're interacting with each other. What I hope is that, as a class, we can draft a set of rules for how discussions are going to work from here on out. Maybe hearing their classmates' persepectives will make the problem folks more considerate?
And yet... enough is enough, really. I'm tired of having to yell over people when everyone starts talking at once. I'm tired of having to stop the interrupters from interrupting. I'm tired of students carrying on private conversations when others are addressing remarks to the entire class. Frankly, a number of people are being quite rude. I've tried to address this several times, and maybe they need a lengthier Come-to-Jesus lecture, too, like the kind Professor Bastard describes well (in a very offensively-titled blogpost, though, I must say).
Oh, damn it all. I hate having to discipline college students.
Monday, October 24, 2005
on parkinson's rule and gendered (?) teaching styles
Parkinson's rule, according to a bunch of folks over at the Chronicle (I can't recall which forum) means that tasks generally expand to fill the time available. So, if you've got one hour to prepare for class, you'll take the whole hour. If you've allotted yourself five hours, you'll find a way to fill the five.
Last week my division chair came to observe my teaching. In anticipation, I insanely spent at least six hours preparing for a fifty minute class. After all that, the class didn't go so well. I had too many ideas and felt like I jumped too much from topic to topic... the students were a little less engaged than usual.
Today, I gave myself a break, and spent less than an hour preparing for class (beyond reading the material), and things went swimmingly. It figures.
I think my big mistake was deciding to manage a more teacher-centered classroom the day the chair came to observe, when often, chair-less, I use a lot of group work, etc. to get things going. I can give a good lecture when I have to, but I like using groups in this class in particular because it forces the students to engage with the text in ways that they don't with full-class discussion (where more people can remain passive) or with lecture.
Today I brought in silly "Hello, my name is" nametags with characters' names (from the play we started to day) written on them. I assigned each group an act and scene, handed them the necessary nametags, and gave them 15 minutes to prepare a two-three minute version of their scene to perform for the class. Today was their first day back from fall break, and I anctipated not everyone had done the reading, so when I assigned groups, I made sure that each had at least one person who I was sure had done the reading (and usually does the reading carefully). Once in groups, they decided who'd play which part, then went to work trying to summarize their scenes-- they all seemed pretty involved, even those who hadn't read-- perhaps because they knew they'd be presenting in front of the entire class and didn't want to be embarrassed any more than necessary.
Turns out they did a great job-- the scenes were hilarious (especially thanks to the deadpan way several of them delivered their lines), and by the end of the activity, I felt sure that everyone in the class had a good sense of what was going on-- who the characters were, what their relationships to each other were, what the major conflicts/ threads were. What's even better is that I think most people were curious about what was going to happen next-- I think the activity helped convey to them some of what's interesting and fun about the play, and I'm hoping that will make for more readers next time. When their scenes were over, I sketched out a bit more information on the board, we talked about what the title might mean, and then class was over. Some of them left the room still wearing their "Hello my name is Alibius," etc. nametags. It was a silly activity, really, but I feel very good about how things went and about what the students were able to get out of the class.
In another class, my students are reading a bit of Deborah Tannen on gendered communication styles. And as much I as wince at some of the ways she characterizes "male" and" female" styles, a lot of what she says rings true to me. Tannen claims that in conversation, men often like to lecture/share information while women listen/ work to build connections. When women find themselves talking for extended periods of time, Tannen says, women often find themselves uncomfortable.
I know this is true for me... in the classroom as well as in my personal life. 50 minutes feels like an awfully long time for me to be center stage. And yet Tannen might say that teachers who don't take center stage for the majority of classtime may be looked at as less intelligent or less capable than commanding lecturers. It was this fear, that my own style might be devalued, that prompted me to try to put myself in the center last week, even when it didn't feel quite right. But if the chair (he's male-- and that probably matters) had come today, and seen my students in groups and then in front of the room for the majority of class time; had he heard me in lecture mode for maybe 15 minutes max, I wonder what kind of write-up that would have gotten?
When I first started teaching, it was fear of being at the center that would prompt me to have students in groups for a bit. But now that I'm more experienced, and I've had to teach one mostly lecture-style course, I think I'm much better at using them. They have a purpose, and they work for me. But would their effectiveness be easy to recognize by an outsider? I just don't know.
Last week my division chair came to observe my teaching. In anticipation, I insanely spent at least six hours preparing for a fifty minute class. After all that, the class didn't go so well. I had too many ideas and felt like I jumped too much from topic to topic... the students were a little less engaged than usual.
Today, I gave myself a break, and spent less than an hour preparing for class (beyond reading the material), and things went swimmingly. It figures.
I think my big mistake was deciding to manage a more teacher-centered classroom the day the chair came to observe, when often, chair-less, I use a lot of group work, etc. to get things going. I can give a good lecture when I have to, but I like using groups in this class in particular because it forces the students to engage with the text in ways that they don't with full-class discussion (where more people can remain passive) or with lecture.
Today I brought in silly "Hello, my name is" nametags with characters' names (from the play we started to day) written on them. I assigned each group an act and scene, handed them the necessary nametags, and gave them 15 minutes to prepare a two-three minute version of their scene to perform for the class. Today was their first day back from fall break, and I anctipated not everyone had done the reading, so when I assigned groups, I made sure that each had at least one person who I was sure had done the reading (and usually does the reading carefully). Once in groups, they decided who'd play which part, then went to work trying to summarize their scenes-- they all seemed pretty involved, even those who hadn't read-- perhaps because they knew they'd be presenting in front of the entire class and didn't want to be embarrassed any more than necessary.
Turns out they did a great job-- the scenes were hilarious (especially thanks to the deadpan way several of them delivered their lines), and by the end of the activity, I felt sure that everyone in the class had a good sense of what was going on-- who the characters were, what their relationships to each other were, what the major conflicts/ threads were. What's even better is that I think most people were curious about what was going to happen next-- I think the activity helped convey to them some of what's interesting and fun about the play, and I'm hoping that will make for more readers next time. When their scenes were over, I sketched out a bit more information on the board, we talked about what the title might mean, and then class was over. Some of them left the room still wearing their "Hello my name is Alibius," etc. nametags. It was a silly activity, really, but I feel very good about how things went and about what the students were able to get out of the class.
In another class, my students are reading a bit of Deborah Tannen on gendered communication styles. And as much I as wince at some of the ways she characterizes "male" and" female" styles, a lot of what she says rings true to me. Tannen claims that in conversation, men often like to lecture/share information while women listen/ work to build connections. When women find themselves talking for extended periods of time, Tannen says, women often find themselves uncomfortable.
I know this is true for me... in the classroom as well as in my personal life. 50 minutes feels like an awfully long time for me to be center stage. And yet Tannen might say that teachers who don't take center stage for the majority of classtime may be looked at as less intelligent or less capable than commanding lecturers. It was this fear, that my own style might be devalued, that prompted me to try to put myself in the center last week, even when it didn't feel quite right. But if the chair (he's male-- and that probably matters) had come today, and seen my students in groups and then in front of the room for the majority of class time; had he heard me in lecture mode for maybe 15 minutes max, I wonder what kind of write-up that would have gotten?
When I first started teaching, it was fear of being at the center that would prompt me to have students in groups for a bit. But now that I'm more experienced, and I've had to teach one mostly lecture-style course, I think I'm much better at using them. They have a purpose, and they work for me. But would their effectiveness be easy to recognize by an outsider? I just don't know.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
fall
I've been absent for a while. It's been a stressful several weeks, and it doesn't look like it's going to end soon. But thank god for fall breaks.
I've spent far too much time stressing out about work, but the afternoon walks home have been quite pleasant-- especially now that the leaves have started changing. Yesterday I saw two kids playing in a leaf pile under the most gorgeous yellow and red trees you can imagine. Gorgeous. In the past weeks, I've also seen a green millipede crossing the road, at least a dozen monarch butterflies alight on a flowering bush, a squirrel carrying a nut of somesort almost bigger than its head, and, my favorite thing of all, geese in flight, coming together to form a perfect V.
It's fall.
I've spent far too much time stressing out about work, but the afternoon walks home have been quite pleasant-- especially now that the leaves have started changing. Yesterday I saw two kids playing in a leaf pile under the most gorgeous yellow and red trees you can imagine. Gorgeous. In the past weeks, I've also seen a green millipede crossing the road, at least a dozen monarch butterflies alight on a flowering bush, a squirrel carrying a nut of somesort almost bigger than its head, and, my favorite thing of all, geese in flight, coming together to form a perfect V.
It's fall.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
drowning
so much anxiety this past week. i can't calm down. i am teaching and going to meetings and preparing for classes and trying to write annual reports and job letters and to finish finally this article... I feel like I'm rushing around even when I'm sitting still.
sometimes I really think I'm just not cut out for this job.
sometimes I really think I'm just not cut out for this job.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Monday, September 12, 2005
young at heart
I have wayyyyyyy too many papers to grade to be writing in my blog, but today's had me thinking about how much my being in this job seems to keep me still feeling like a college student. My little sister started college this year-- when I hear about what she's experiencing, that sense of excitement and wonder of my own freshman year comes flooding back into me...
I fantasize sometimes about being in college again, about which of my students I'd hang out with. I hear them talk about late nights spent doing and not doing homework, grabbing sandwiches and conversation at 1 a.m., and I feel nostalgic. Envious, even. Oh, to be a student! with so many possibilities still stretched out in front of me... all around me.
I was in an elevator sometime last week with a student I didn't know. She smiled at me and asked me what class I was going to. Clearly she thought I was a student, too. I didn't try correcting her. Sometimes it bugs me when I have to keep explaining (especially to other faculty or staff people) that I'm actually a professor.... but this time, it made my day.
I fantasize sometimes about being in college again, about which of my students I'd hang out with. I hear them talk about late nights spent doing and not doing homework, grabbing sandwiches and conversation at 1 a.m., and I feel nostalgic. Envious, even. Oh, to be a student! with so many possibilities still stretched out in front of me... all around me.
I was in an elevator sometime last week with a student I didn't know. She smiled at me and asked me what class I was going to. Clearly she thought I was a student, too. I didn't try correcting her. Sometimes it bugs me when I have to keep explaining (especially to other faculty or staff people) that I'm actually a professor.... but this time, it made my day.
insomnia
It's three-freaking-forty-seven in the morning. I've been trying to sleep for ages, and finally got so frustrated being in bed and having nothing happen, that I've come here at last.
These past few weeks, since school started, since New Orleans, since everything, I've had so many thoughts swirling through my head at one time that it's been nearly impossible to sit down and focus enough to write. I'm constantly writing down reminders on my hands, then promptly forgetting them, switch from thinking about class to other class to other class to other class as if my brain is some kind of tv screen which someone else is controlling by remote.
All this leads me to conclude a few things. 1. I really need to lay off the caffeine again. It doesn't matter how tired I find myself tomorrow, if I want to be able to sleep, it's a terrible, terrible idea. 2. I need to commit to getting some sort of exercise that can let me release some of this stressful build-up. Stop worrying about the possibility of seeing students at the gym. 3. I could try those sleeping pills, maybe?
I can feel the stress-- in my shoulders, in my neck, in my stomach. Soooo frustrating.
My classes are okay-- good, even, but I'm finding myself having so much anxiety about performing for students that I can't relax until class is/classes are over for the day. Or the week. I tried falling asleep tonight scrambling to think about the single 50 minute class I teach tomorrow. So far, I've prepared at least 2 hours for that said class. More than that, if you count the grading. And the ridiculous thing is that I'll probably spend at least 2-3 hours more in the morning preparing for it. Seriously-- who spends 5 hours (or more!) preparing for a 50 minute class? I'm ridiculous.
My freshmen know terribly little about what's going on in the world. Last semester, they didn't know Abu Ghraib. This semester, they're utterly clueless about the hurricane. The sad part of it is, most of them don't seem to mind not knowing. One girl last week said "I don't watch the news," in a tone that made it sound like that's a good thing. What?? I want to do something about this. I'm seriously thinking about devoting at least part of one day a week talking about the news (and requiring them to read about it). I can do this. It's comp. class, after all. I can make them write about it.
I'm so tired.
And so sorry.
I'm not feeling much like myself-- or at least, not like the calm and relaxed and thoughtful self I have been some few times in my life. I miss her.
These past few weeks, since school started, since New Orleans, since everything, I've had so many thoughts swirling through my head at one time that it's been nearly impossible to sit down and focus enough to write. I'm constantly writing down reminders on my hands, then promptly forgetting them, switch from thinking about class to other class to other class to other class as if my brain is some kind of tv screen which someone else is controlling by remote.
All this leads me to conclude a few things. 1. I really need to lay off the caffeine again. It doesn't matter how tired I find myself tomorrow, if I want to be able to sleep, it's a terrible, terrible idea. 2. I need to commit to getting some sort of exercise that can let me release some of this stressful build-up. Stop worrying about the possibility of seeing students at the gym. 3. I could try those sleeping pills, maybe?
I can feel the stress-- in my shoulders, in my neck, in my stomach. Soooo frustrating.
My classes are okay-- good, even, but I'm finding myself having so much anxiety about performing for students that I can't relax until class is/classes are over for the day. Or the week. I tried falling asleep tonight scrambling to think about the single 50 minute class I teach tomorrow. So far, I've prepared at least 2 hours for that said class. More than that, if you count the grading. And the ridiculous thing is that I'll probably spend at least 2-3 hours more in the morning preparing for it. Seriously-- who spends 5 hours (or more!) preparing for a 50 minute class? I'm ridiculous.
My freshmen know terribly little about what's going on in the world. Last semester, they didn't know Abu Ghraib. This semester, they're utterly clueless about the hurricane. The sad part of it is, most of them don't seem to mind not knowing. One girl last week said "I don't watch the news," in a tone that made it sound like that's a good thing. What?? I want to do something about this. I'm seriously thinking about devoting at least part of one day a week talking about the news (and requiring them to read about it). I can do this. It's comp. class, after all. I can make them write about it.
I'm so tired.
And so sorry.
I'm not feeling much like myself-- or at least, not like the calm and relaxed and thoughtful self I have been some few times in my life. I miss her.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
recalled to life
Summer has ended, school has begun, and after some thought, I've decided to write once more. There's plenty now that I wish I'd written about before, like some of the beautiful places I've seen, solitary walks through meadows and over hills and among sheep, about the theater, and especially a few inspiring performances of a few of Shakespeare's plays-- most notably, an acrobatic Pericles at the New Globe. I could have written about a reunion with old college friends, about two wonderful nights with k. and r., swimming naked in the ocean and under a full and beautiful moon.
However much I long to share these things and others, it's starting to seem like the blog's not always the best place to do so.... but there's plenty else I think I can still do here, somehow. We'll see.
I've missed you folks.
However much I long to share these things and others, it's starting to seem like the blog's not always the best place to do so.... but there's plenty else I think I can still do here, somehow. We'll see.
I've missed you folks.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Friday, July 29, 2005
blogicide and poetry
I'm been feeling a bit blogicidal lately, but can't seem to bring myself to hit the delete button. I'm just taking some time to figure out what to do with this space. Many thanks to those who've inquired about my well-being.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
anniversary
Two years ago, P. and I set off from midwestern parts unknown across the country. We were headed towards California. We made a number of stops along the way-- in Wyoming, in Colorado, in Utah, in Arizona, in Nevada, and we saw mountains and deserts and strange red rock formations neither one of us had ever seen before. When we got to the ocean, at last, we found a nice beach, got a marriage license, met with a minister, and then, June 14, we got married. It was a small ceremony. No parents, just a few friends and ourselves, barefoot in the sand and in the late afternoon just before the sun slipped down into the waves. We stayed in California for a month, studying, then packed up again and made the journey back again, which was just as beautiful, if not somewhat more rushed.
That trip and those days are still so fresh in my mind, it's hard to believe it's been two years.
The days before the wedding, I was jittery. A few of our friends had flown in to celebrate with us, and we'd gone out for dinner that night. In the confusion of deciding who was going to sleep where, a tired friend of mine got a little snippy with me. I felt terrible. And so P. stayed the night with me, the way he'd been doing so many time before, and he consoled me, and lay with me, and somehow made everything better. The next morning I was perfectly calm. Serene, even. P. still talks about it. We married just the way we wanted to, and it was perfect.
Months before that, we'd been planning a wedding in my parents' home town. Our vision and theirs just didn't resemble each other at all. Parents wanted their So. Baptist church and their minister which was particularly hard for P., who is not at all religious. The reception would be held in a stuffy location downtown. The night my father started asking me about colors, we decided to elope. We tried inviting my parents, but they didn't want to come. They gave us two choices: the wedding the way they wanted it, or eloping (which they were fine with) without them. I'm still a hurt they didn't want to come, but I'm so relieved we decided to do things our way. When I think back on our wedding, I have lot of good feelings about it, and that freedom that came from stepping away from the parents was part of it.
Tomorrow I'm flying in to see them and my brother, his wife, and my exceedingly cute niece. I'm nervous, as I always get with these parental visits, and this ache of wedding past I still seem to be carrying with me doesn't help things. But P., darling P. (who just stepped out of the bathroom, naked and spiky-haired to check on me) will be here when I get back, and there's really no one better to be coming back to.
That trip and those days are still so fresh in my mind, it's hard to believe it's been two years.
The days before the wedding, I was jittery. A few of our friends had flown in to celebrate with us, and we'd gone out for dinner that night. In the confusion of deciding who was going to sleep where, a tired friend of mine got a little snippy with me. I felt terrible. And so P. stayed the night with me, the way he'd been doing so many time before, and he consoled me, and lay with me, and somehow made everything better. The next morning I was perfectly calm. Serene, even. P. still talks about it. We married just the way we wanted to, and it was perfect.
Months before that, we'd been planning a wedding in my parents' home town. Our vision and theirs just didn't resemble each other at all. Parents wanted their So. Baptist church and their minister which was particularly hard for P., who is not at all religious. The reception would be held in a stuffy location downtown. The night my father started asking me about colors, we decided to elope. We tried inviting my parents, but they didn't want to come. They gave us two choices: the wedding the way they wanted it, or eloping (which they were fine with) without them. I'm still a hurt they didn't want to come, but I'm so relieved we decided to do things our way. When I think back on our wedding, I have lot of good feelings about it, and that freedom that came from stepping away from the parents was part of it.
Tomorrow I'm flying in to see them and my brother, his wife, and my exceedingly cute niece. I'm nervous, as I always get with these parental visits, and this ache of wedding past I still seem to be carrying with me doesn't help things. But P., darling P. (who just stepped out of the bathroom, naked and spiky-haired to check on me) will be here when I get back, and there's really no one better to be coming back to.
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
returned
quite a busy vacation, with lots of driving. p. has recounted it all in Spanish on his blog & so I won't do it again here, but I do want to share a few highlights.
1. Oswald's Bear Ranch. We saw a number of adult bears napping under trees, then got to play with two of the adorable cubs. One sat on my lap, leaned back, looked straight at me. They're adorable animals, but strong! And they seem very intelligent, too. If they didn't grow, I'd love to have one as a pet.
2. P. & I rode a tandem bicycle for the first time. We rode it around an island-- literally traced the entire circumference. Beautiful scenery, and since no motor vehicles are allowed on the island, we were able to enjoy most of it entirely on our own. Splendid.
3. Saw a huge ship travel through the narrow Soo locks in Sault Ste. Marie, passing from the Huron into the Superior. Did you know that Superior is 7 meters higher than Huron? In the locks, they have to lift the ship to send it on its way. Apparently watching the ships go through is a past time for some of the locals as well as the tourists. Lots of loud teenagers there... can you imagine? Why? When the boats pass through sooooooooo slowly?
4. Camping. And though we've discovered that P. is not a camper, we had some bright and shiny moments. I loved how easy it was to wake up very early. At first light, I was awake. The first morning after we camped, we got an early start to the destination we were aiming for. The second, I got in a walk by myself through some dunes near the lake while p. slept. We made fires, cooked, pitched tents, skipped rocks, hiked a bit, and told each other stories once it got dark. P. invented a character called Peekaboo Crane.
5. Drive through some marshlands at a State park whose name I can't remember. Saw loons and swans and eagles nests, and families of ducks! 3 sets of 2 adults (mom and pop?) and 3 or 4 ducklings on family outings. Marshland is beautiful.
We're home again, and it's nice to have returned here, though the rest of the summer will be incredibly busy. I'm teaching a course near the end of it, and before that, I've a lot of writing to do. My dissertation director hooked me up with an editor and seems there's some interest in publishing my manuscript... which means I've got to get that thing finished. It's all there, but revision is always an agonizing process for me. When I was on the job market, I revised those blasted cover letter and diss abstracts nearly every time I sent out an application. It was exhausting. I have a hard time letting go.
P. leaves to teach at a math camp July1, so hoping we'll enjoy each other some before he's gone, too. He jokes that it's very fortunate that there will be no real camping at mathcamp. No sleeping bags, no tents, and hopefully fewer mosquitos.
1. Oswald's Bear Ranch. We saw a number of adult bears napping under trees, then got to play with two of the adorable cubs. One sat on my lap, leaned back, looked straight at me. They're adorable animals, but strong! And they seem very intelligent, too. If they didn't grow, I'd love to have one as a pet.
2. P. & I rode a tandem bicycle for the first time. We rode it around an island-- literally traced the entire circumference. Beautiful scenery, and since no motor vehicles are allowed on the island, we were able to enjoy most of it entirely on our own. Splendid.
3. Saw a huge ship travel through the narrow Soo locks in Sault Ste. Marie, passing from the Huron into the Superior. Did you know that Superior is 7 meters higher than Huron? In the locks, they have to lift the ship to send it on its way. Apparently watching the ships go through is a past time for some of the locals as well as the tourists. Lots of loud teenagers there... can you imagine? Why? When the boats pass through sooooooooo slowly?
4. Camping. And though we've discovered that P. is not a camper, we had some bright and shiny moments. I loved how easy it was to wake up very early. At first light, I was awake. The first morning after we camped, we got an early start to the destination we were aiming for. The second, I got in a walk by myself through some dunes near the lake while p. slept. We made fires, cooked, pitched tents, skipped rocks, hiked a bit, and told each other stories once it got dark. P. invented a character called Peekaboo Crane.
5. Drive through some marshlands at a State park whose name I can't remember. Saw loons and swans and eagles nests, and families of ducks! 3 sets of 2 adults (mom and pop?) and 3 or 4 ducklings on family outings. Marshland is beautiful.
We're home again, and it's nice to have returned here, though the rest of the summer will be incredibly busy. I'm teaching a course near the end of it, and before that, I've a lot of writing to do. My dissertation director hooked me up with an editor and seems there's some interest in publishing my manuscript... which means I've got to get that thing finished. It's all there, but revision is always an agonizing process for me. When I was on the job market, I revised those blasted cover letter and diss abstracts nearly every time I sent out an application. It was exhausting. I have a hard time letting go.
P. leaves to teach at a math camp July1, so hoping we'll enjoy each other some before he's gone, too. He jokes that it's very fortunate that there will be no real camping at mathcamp. No sleeping bags, no tents, and hopefully fewer mosquitos.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
gone fishing
well, except for the fishing part. Had a traumatic experience seeing an Iron Chef behead a living squirming fish some time ago, and that officially took fish out of my (otherwise entirely vegetarian) diet.
but we're going. Our trip still isn't entirely planned out, but we're packed to camp. We're just going to drive in our desired direction and kinda play it by ear. We've got a book of campsites and phone numbers, and did enough checking about availability to find that it's really not crowded at all the week after memorial day.
I will be away from all phones and computers, and I'm pretty darn happy about that. No offense to any of you guys, of course. If you don't hear back from me in a few weeks, I've probably been eaten by a bear. Or something.
but we're going. Our trip still isn't entirely planned out, but we're packed to camp. We're just going to drive in our desired direction and kinda play it by ear. We've got a book of campsites and phone numbers, and did enough checking about availability to find that it's really not crowded at all the week after memorial day.
I will be away from all phones and computers, and I'm pretty darn happy about that. No offense to any of you guys, of course. If you don't hear back from me in a few weeks, I've probably been eaten by a bear. Or something.
Saturday, May 28, 2005
oh, oh, oh
haven't been able to write. been still a little down. p. is making me a milkshake. strawberry with vanilla. fresh. mmmmmmmmm.
tuesday we set off for the great to-us-as-yet-unknown upper peninsula and for our first camping trip together. i can't wait.
last weekend we went for a hike, in the woods, pretty darn close to home. took a trail we hadn't before and ran into all sorts of deer along the way. we ran into only one other person (and his dog) during our entire walk. the deer were very dear. fawns stared at us and even came closer. the mother, more cautious, put her body in front of them. turned a bend past the river and saw one no more than five feet away. it looked at us, curious. beautiful animals.
in michigan, in minnesota, there are chances of seeing bears and wolves and moose, and surely more sweet deer along the way.
right now i wish i could show you a picture of one of our cats, though. p. has finished milk-shaking, and lay down on a couch in my office. the cat is on top of him already, curled up dreamily, legs extended, head cocked. some day i'll post a picture.
can't wait to get out of town, to get all these anxious voices in my head (worries about my summer class, about next semester, about my manuscript) to quiet themselves down.
tuesday we set off for the great to-us-as-yet-unknown upper peninsula and for our first camping trip together. i can't wait.
last weekend we went for a hike, in the woods, pretty darn close to home. took a trail we hadn't before and ran into all sorts of deer along the way. we ran into only one other person (and his dog) during our entire walk. the deer were very dear. fawns stared at us and even came closer. the mother, more cautious, put her body in front of them. turned a bend past the river and saw one no more than five feet away. it looked at us, curious. beautiful animals.
in michigan, in minnesota, there are chances of seeing bears and wolves and moose, and surely more sweet deer along the way.
right now i wish i could show you a picture of one of our cats, though. p. has finished milk-shaking, and lay down on a couch in my office. the cat is on top of him already, curled up dreamily, legs extended, head cocked. some day i'll post a picture.
can't wait to get out of town, to get all these anxious voices in my head (worries about my summer class, about next semester, about my manuscript) to quiet themselves down.
Sunday, May 22, 2005
weekend
tonight's dinner:
grilled artichokes with tomato chipotle sauce
grilled mushroom & garlic tacos
P. is a god with the grill.
I'm still not done grading (I'm very close, though... have to be done by Wednesday, so this can't stretch on too much longer, anyway). We took a long drive today, listened to some Muriel Spark on audiobook, did some shopping (I have new pants, finally, and we have new camping gear), visited a bookstore to browse the travel books, made the drive home, chatted with elderly neighbor, did some cooking, lay in the hammock. This is what summer is about. We're hoping to go off camping next weekend for a while. Trying to decide between a tour of the Great Lakes (to Voyageurs National park via Michigan's Upper Peninisula and Isle Royale) or a somewhat further trek to the wonderous sights of Montana. We've never camped together, before, and P. is skeptical that I actually know how to start a fire that we can cook on, but it will be a blast when it happens. Can't wait.
grilled artichokes with tomato chipotle sauce
grilled mushroom & garlic tacos
P. is a god with the grill.
I'm still not done grading (I'm very close, though... have to be done by Wednesday, so this can't stretch on too much longer, anyway). We took a long drive today, listened to some Muriel Spark on audiobook, did some shopping (I have new pants, finally, and we have new camping gear), visited a bookstore to browse the travel books, made the drive home, chatted with elderly neighbor, did some cooking, lay in the hammock. This is what summer is about. We're hoping to go off camping next weekend for a while. Trying to decide between a tour of the Great Lakes (to Voyageurs National park via Michigan's Upper Peninisula and Isle Royale) or a somewhat further trek to the wonderous sights of Montana. We've never camped together, before, and P. is skeptical that I actually know how to start a fire that we can cook on, but it will be a blast when it happens. Can't wait.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
i'm sad.
i'm not sure why. i'm just sad.
The visit with my parents was okay; sometimes even pleasant. We went for a walk Saturday after lunch, P. with my mom (who walks much slower than dad), and me with dad, who takes very long strides. Dad told lots of familiy stories, especially about grand-dad, his father, who I learned left WW II at the time he did because he won a hand of poker. (The squadron was sending 5 men home, I think; poker was how they decided who went.) He caught hops on cargo planes and toook a ship through the Pacific (where he saw a bit more action), and by the time he made it home he'd officially traveled around the world. But what a way to do it.
the glitch came Sunday morning, with folks insistance I find my diploma so they could have it framed for me. A sweet gesture, but it didnt' feel so good, being told to find it, them watching me pull out drawers of filing cabinets and rummage through my office before I finally found it sitting in its envelope on a book shelf.
They've called 3 times I think since they left on Sunday. Mom asked tonight (after a dozen questions I really didn't feel like answering) if I missed them. I couldn't bring myself to say yes, so I said "I've been really busy" instead. Am a bad person?
In an effort to make me feel better, P. called me to come and see a mess he made in the bathroom, pushed the button on his shaving cream and unintentionally shot it all over the mirror, the toilet, the shower doors. "You're not the only one who's clumsy," he says, adorably. His shaving cream is blue. It looks like toothpaste.
I'm still sad.
The visit with my parents was okay; sometimes even pleasant. We went for a walk Saturday after lunch, P. with my mom (who walks much slower than dad), and me with dad, who takes very long strides. Dad told lots of familiy stories, especially about grand-dad, his father, who I learned left WW II at the time he did because he won a hand of poker. (The squadron was sending 5 men home, I think; poker was how they decided who went.) He caught hops on cargo planes and toook a ship through the Pacific (where he saw a bit more action), and by the time he made it home he'd officially traveled around the world. But what a way to do it.
the glitch came Sunday morning, with folks insistance I find my diploma so they could have it framed for me. A sweet gesture, but it didnt' feel so good, being told to find it, them watching me pull out drawers of filing cabinets and rummage through my office before I finally found it sitting in its envelope on a book shelf.
They've called 3 times I think since they left on Sunday. Mom asked tonight (after a dozen questions I really didn't feel like answering) if I missed them. I couldn't bring myself to say yes, so I said "I've been really busy" instead. Am a bad person?
In an effort to make me feel better, P. called me to come and see a mess he made in the bathroom, pushed the button on his shaving cream and unintentionally shot it all over the mirror, the toilet, the shower doors. "You're not the only one who's clumsy," he says, adorably. His shaving cream is blue. It looks like toothpaste.
I'm still sad.
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