I have been reading non-stop since school dismissed Friday. I've plowed through two and 3/4 novels between house cleaning, eBay perusal, construction projects, and catching up on overdue appointments and obligations. The sheer luxury of taking a few hours to rip through a book is almost intoxicating.
This is summer, and if I do nothing else in summer, I always feed the word hunger inside me. I'm not talking about lofty literature. I'm talking about the simple pleasure of letting pulp and ink sweep me away into someone else's life, someone else's dilemma. I'm talking about armchair travel, finding out whodunit, and what's going to happen next.
As I've probably mentioned before, I read almost everything. Most of my students probably think all I read are the lofty classics, but the simple truth is I love pulp fiction, chick lit, sword-and-sorcery, general fiction, Southern authors, biography, history, mystery, and so forth every bit as much as I love Jane Austen (okay, mostly as much...Jane's a special case). The only books I studiously avoid are those with a political or philosophical mission. I can think for myself, thank you. There's nothing more dull than a bunch of allegorical characters blathering on about the dark, pointless nature of existence. Please. They always strike me as anorexic models with no grasp on the realities of life. I can almost see them, their frail bodies draped in black, cigarettes waving through the air in exaggerated arcs of gesture, having conversations that mean nothing to anyone, not even themselves.
I also don't like books that focus entirely on "man's dark struggle to survive." As I've said time and time again, every individual's daily life has enough darkness in it to meet whatever universal requirement there may be for that. There's no need to wallow in it and seek it out in fictional doses. William Blake, fantastic looney that he was, believed in an Organized Innocence, an acknowledgment of the evils, a willingness to fight them, but an absolute refusal to let that darkness close off the windows of light and good. Good for him. So many works people tout as "essential" have far too much of that focus on dark to the exclusion of good. I find it depressing and pointless most of the time.
I am looking forward to a summer of good reading. It may not all be reading of AP's "works of literary merit", but I am quite sure that my brain cells will survive the insult. It's time to dust off the library card, fling the cats from the crocheted comforter, pour a big glass of Red Diamond, and luxuriate in the selfish gluttony of the written word. I think I can balance my addiction with the feelings of guilt and the need to do something "productive" and get my summer to-do list checked off while I catch up on my books. Well...most of it, anyway....
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Saturday, May 27, 2006
School Ends
It's finally done. I've been fighting a relapse of the crud, trying to get things finished up at school, and I really haven't felt much like blogging. Now, everything has come to a close, and I think you'll start seeing more posts from me.
I lay on couch and read most of today. The rest of the day, I was helping Dad wrestle with my ancient water heater. It went belly-up earlier this week and getting it out turned out to be more of a hassle than one might imagine. Apparently, it was installed just about the time I was born and had rusted away to almost nothing. Trying to move it caused flakes of rust to come off. To get a good grip, we just sort of punched through the side and made a handhold. Once again, only that great magic, kind force of the universe was holding all that rust together in the semblance of a water heater. By all rights, as far as I can tell, it should have disintegrated long ago.
We're still working on it...plumbing sucks. I have water all over the house again, though, and the water heater for the back of the house is still working, so we can drink and bathe. (Well, I can bathe. The cats and my dogs take care of that in other ways.)
I have started a couple of minor renovations on my main bathroom, just moving stuff around and spray painting a couple of smaller items. I am going to try to get the ancient contact paper stripped off the walls (no, I didn't put it up) and paint. I may get crazy and put down some self-stick floor tiles to try to do something with the horrid floor. It's nice to have summer to tinker with stuff. I miss my tinkering time fiercely during the school year.
I also got a new laptop. Well, I'm using a new laptop. I can't say it belongs to me. Our school system bought laptops for all their teachers to use. They're Gateway, and they're "da bomb." (Do people even say that anymore? Should people say that anymore?) It's wireless, and will command a wireless projector they're in the process of mounting to my classroom ceiling. They're also tablet PCs, so I can draw little stick men for my classes. :) Maybe this way I can get my instructions across more clearly.
In all seriousness, this is exciting for me. I finally have the tools to do some serious tech stuff in my teaching. Before, I was having to rig a bunch of stuff and pray for good results. Now it's all simply right at my fingertips. It's almost overwhelming.
Well, I'm off to play with my fantastic machine for another night. I should be sleeping, but hey, it's a tablet PC and school's out for the summer. Life is good.
I lay on couch and read most of today. The rest of the day, I was helping Dad wrestle with my ancient water heater. It went belly-up earlier this week and getting it out turned out to be more of a hassle than one might imagine. Apparently, it was installed just about the time I was born and had rusted away to almost nothing. Trying to move it caused flakes of rust to come off. To get a good grip, we just sort of punched through the side and made a handhold. Once again, only that great magic, kind force of the universe was holding all that rust together in the semblance of a water heater. By all rights, as far as I can tell, it should have disintegrated long ago.
We're still working on it...plumbing sucks. I have water all over the house again, though, and the water heater for the back of the house is still working, so we can drink and bathe. (Well, I can bathe. The cats and my dogs take care of that in other ways.)
I have started a couple of minor renovations on my main bathroom, just moving stuff around and spray painting a couple of smaller items. I am going to try to get the ancient contact paper stripped off the walls (no, I didn't put it up) and paint. I may get crazy and put down some self-stick floor tiles to try to do something with the horrid floor. It's nice to have summer to tinker with stuff. I miss my tinkering time fiercely during the school year.
I also got a new laptop. Well, I'm using a new laptop. I can't say it belongs to me. Our school system bought laptops for all their teachers to use. They're Gateway, and they're "da bomb." (Do people even say that anymore? Should people say that anymore?) It's wireless, and will command a wireless projector they're in the process of mounting to my classroom ceiling. They're also tablet PCs, so I can draw little stick men for my classes. :) Maybe this way I can get my instructions across more clearly.
In all seriousness, this is exciting for me. I finally have the tools to do some serious tech stuff in my teaching. Before, I was having to rig a bunch of stuff and pray for good results. Now it's all simply right at my fingertips. It's almost overwhelming.
Well, I'm off to play with my fantastic machine for another night. I should be sleeping, but hey, it's a tablet PC and school's out for the summer. Life is good.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Fable
There's a story I want to tell. Consider it a modern fable, if you will.
Once upon a time, there was a senior. That senior had worked very hard for the past thirteen years (K-12) earning academic honors and the trust and respect of the senior's teachers and peers. Suddenly, during the senior's last year, the senior decided to slack off a bit. The senior's grades began to slide and the senior was forced to consider the fact that the almighty GPA might fall.
This is when the senior made a fateful choice. The senior chose to access the grades through the school's computer and change those that did not meet the high expectations everyone, including the senior, had for the senior. The senior was crafty and subtle. It was a process that was painstakingly done over the course of an entire academic year. Finally, the day after the last final, the senior logged in once more, edited the last of the grades that offended, dashed off a condescending email requesting the senior's final grades from teachers, and with a smile, left campus for the last time until graduation practice.
Through a regular checking of the grades, the changes were discovered. All hell broke loose. Administrators and teachers were angry and disappointed. Trust and respect which had been established shattered like a ceramic cookie jar dropped by a pillaging child. Ultimately, everything the senior had worked for over the course of time was taken. No graduation, no honors, no speaking at graduation. It was all gone. The senior would lose rank, prestige, and even the right to attend the senior's own graduation. Nothing would be left to show for thirteen years of work except a stripped-down diploma which would be mailed the day after the grand ceremony.
What makes somebody throw away all those years? It's a question to ponder. The moral of this modern fable might be that there are some gambles it's better not to take. It might be that there are some gains that are meaningless when they are earned by force and dishonesty. Finally, though, I think it has to be that there is never a good time or a right time to abandon the things we know are right. None of us are ever above ethics, even if our time in a certain place has come to a close. It's never too late to have it all taken away because of a poor choice.
Once upon a time, there was a senior. That senior had worked very hard for the past thirteen years (K-12) earning academic honors and the trust and respect of the senior's teachers and peers. Suddenly, during the senior's last year, the senior decided to slack off a bit. The senior's grades began to slide and the senior was forced to consider the fact that the almighty GPA might fall.
This is when the senior made a fateful choice. The senior chose to access the grades through the school's computer and change those that did not meet the high expectations everyone, including the senior, had for the senior. The senior was crafty and subtle. It was a process that was painstakingly done over the course of an entire academic year. Finally, the day after the last final, the senior logged in once more, edited the last of the grades that offended, dashed off a condescending email requesting the senior's final grades from teachers, and with a smile, left campus for the last time until graduation practice.
Through a regular checking of the grades, the changes were discovered. All hell broke loose. Administrators and teachers were angry and disappointed. Trust and respect which had been established shattered like a ceramic cookie jar dropped by a pillaging child. Ultimately, everything the senior had worked for over the course of time was taken. No graduation, no honors, no speaking at graduation. It was all gone. The senior would lose rank, prestige, and even the right to attend the senior's own graduation. Nothing would be left to show for thirteen years of work except a stripped-down diploma which would be mailed the day after the grand ceremony.
What makes somebody throw away all those years? It's a question to ponder. The moral of this modern fable might be that there are some gambles it's better not to take. It might be that there are some gains that are meaningless when they are earned by force and dishonesty. Finally, though, I think it has to be that there is never a good time or a right time to abandon the things we know are right. None of us are ever above ethics, even if our time in a certain place has come to a close. It's never too late to have it all taken away because of a poor choice.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Ears
I, par for the course, have been very, very sick lately. Apparently, I have bronchitis, a sinus infection, and my right ear is so infected that it has completely closed off. I take a huge handful of pills every day and am using a frightening albuterol puffer thing. I have drops for my ears and nasal spray. To be brief, it sucks.
The part that is taking the longest to get over is the ear thing. I damaged my ears in Japan with an ongoing infection and bizarre medical practices. They've never been "strong", but after that, they seem to get much more irritable much more often.
I was sick in a place in which I did not speak the language, so I was reluctant to go to the doctor. The infection finally reached the point where my ear was continuously draining, and I finally got up the nerve to ask my boss to take me and translate. He agreed, and we went to a local clinic in my neighborhood.
The doctor made some cursory inspections, and the next thing I remember was him coming toward my face with a small wire. I grabbed his wrist right about the time I realized he planned to stick the wire, which was actually a camera, up my nose. My boss thought it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. Apparently, Japanese doctors don't feel the same compulsion to tell you what they're going to do before they do it that American doctors have. It was a tense moment.
Finally, though I sat there and cried while he looked at the inside of my head with the little camera. I can't describe that feeling, but it still makes me shudder to think about it. He gave me some little packets of medicines and told me I'd have to come back every day for treatment. Every day for three weeks, I had a breathing treatment and that horrid little camera up my nose. I didn't get well until I managed to get back home and get some medicines based on my body weight. To this day, it ranks among my worst memories.
This ear infection has brought it all back. I'm still pretty weak from the other, too. I spent all day Saturday and Sunday in bed. Mom and Dad, my wonderful, wonderful parents, took care of me. I don't know what I'd do without them. I think I need a keeper.
Anyway, that's what's going on in my world. There's more. My seniors are gone, and their leaving was actually graceful and lovely. I'll write about it later on. Right now, I have to go take round two of medicine for the evening, and then I need to fall down again.
The part that is taking the longest to get over is the ear thing. I damaged my ears in Japan with an ongoing infection and bizarre medical practices. They've never been "strong", but after that, they seem to get much more irritable much more often.
I was sick in a place in which I did not speak the language, so I was reluctant to go to the doctor. The infection finally reached the point where my ear was continuously draining, and I finally got up the nerve to ask my boss to take me and translate. He agreed, and we went to a local clinic in my neighborhood.
The doctor made some cursory inspections, and the next thing I remember was him coming toward my face with a small wire. I grabbed his wrist right about the time I realized he planned to stick the wire, which was actually a camera, up my nose. My boss thought it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. Apparently, Japanese doctors don't feel the same compulsion to tell you what they're going to do before they do it that American doctors have. It was a tense moment.
Finally, though I sat there and cried while he looked at the inside of my head with the little camera. I can't describe that feeling, but it still makes me shudder to think about it. He gave me some little packets of medicines and told me I'd have to come back every day for treatment. Every day for three weeks, I had a breathing treatment and that horrid little camera up my nose. I didn't get well until I managed to get back home and get some medicines based on my body weight. To this day, it ranks among my worst memories.
This ear infection has brought it all back. I'm still pretty weak from the other, too. I spent all day Saturday and Sunday in bed. Mom and Dad, my wonderful, wonderful parents, took care of me. I don't know what I'd do without them. I think I need a keeper.
Anyway, that's what's going on in my world. There's more. My seniors are gone, and their leaving was actually graceful and lovely. I'll write about it later on. Right now, I have to go take round two of medicine for the evening, and then I need to fall down again.
Friday, May 05, 2006
After the AP
Yesterday was the day of the AP English exam for my seniors. I nervously waited to hear how they think they might have done. I saw two or three of them, and they said they felt confident, but they had big problems with one of the essays. Oops. They got a passage from Oscar Wilde and it threw many of them.
I feel so relaxed now that it's over for this year. I have been working on my plans for next year for quite some time, but now I can begin to do so in earnest. I want to get some final feedback from this year's class, and then it will be almost time to start all over again.
Since everybody was gone 2nd and 5th yesterday, I used the time to create webpages for my classes. It's something I'd thought about doing half a dozen times, but a colleague of mine brought it back up to me again, and since I had the time and couldn't focus on anything else, I decided to go for it. I used Google's Pagemaker. It's about as basic as possible, but it was plenty to do what I needed. I'm not a corporation, after all, and although the current trend of thinking about education often refutes this, I am not trying to sell anybody anything.
There are many changes I want to make for next year. I am switching out some works, reducing the total number studied, putting poetry into a chronological order, and several other things. I want to make it harder and better. It's become sort of a hobby for me. I don't know what that says about me, but it's true.
Well, I am currently giving a test, so I guess I should get back to it. It's strange to be doing this from school. I wonder how long this strange reprieve from being banned as "tasteless/obscene" will last?
I feel so relaxed now that it's over for this year. I have been working on my plans for next year for quite some time, but now I can begin to do so in earnest. I want to get some final feedback from this year's class, and then it will be almost time to start all over again.
Since everybody was gone 2nd and 5th yesterday, I used the time to create webpages for my classes. It's something I'd thought about doing half a dozen times, but a colleague of mine brought it back up to me again, and since I had the time and couldn't focus on anything else, I decided to go for it. I used Google's Pagemaker. It's about as basic as possible, but it was plenty to do what I needed. I'm not a corporation, after all, and although the current trend of thinking about education often refutes this, I am not trying to sell anybody anything.
There are many changes I want to make for next year. I am switching out some works, reducing the total number studied, putting poetry into a chronological order, and several other things. I want to make it harder and better. It's become sort of a hobby for me. I don't know what that says about me, but it's true.
Well, I am currently giving a test, so I guess I should get back to it. It's strange to be doing this from school. I wonder how long this strange reprieve from being banned as "tasteless/obscene" will last?
The Poem
This is the poem I've been promising to post for so long. For some odd reason, I can get to blogger from work today, so here tis:
Sisyphus Days
Too often my life becomes
the tritest of Greek tragedies.
The worn wood door opens on my classroom –
I step in as Prometheus
ambrosia-fed
Dickinson and Plath
Frost and Cummings
fill heart and battered brown tote
with fire to transfigure, refine,
burn away the dross
of unthinking childhood.
By the end of the day
I am battered and bruised.
The gods are sullen or filled with ennui
and do not interfere.
The boulder I have been pushing
uphill
with such foolish optimism
crashes across me
as it races
unthinking
bell-driven
to the door
to the bus
to the sweet Lethe
of television-video-game-all-night-phone-call
and I sit in the abandoned room
alone.
Sisyphus Days
Too often my life becomes
the tritest of Greek tragedies.
The worn wood door opens on my classroom –
I step in as Prometheus
ambrosia-fed
Dickinson and Plath
Frost and Cummings
fill heart and battered brown tote
with fire to transfigure, refine,
burn away the dross
of unthinking childhood.
By the end of the day
I am battered and bruised.
The gods are sullen or filled with ennui
and do not interfere.
The boulder I have been pushing
uphill
with such foolish optimism
crashes across me
as it races
unthinking
bell-driven
to the door
to the bus
to the sweet Lethe
of television-video-game-all-night-phone-call
and I sit in the abandoned room
alone.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
The Joys of Teaching
Payday has come at last. It's always such a novelty to walk to the refridgerator, open the door, and see it full.
I feel like I am provisioning myself for a great artic voyage when I do my payday shopping. My cart is always overflowing with dog food, milk, cheese, toilet tissue, and the other day-to-day necessities. I see other people staring at the cart in sort of perplexed wonder as I struggle to maneuver it, and I want to tell them, "If you had to buy everything you need for the month in one fell swoop, you'd shop like this, too."
This is teacher life. We live from once-a-month payday to once-a-month payday for a pittance. No other profession would do this. I can't for the life of me figure out why we do, either. Oh, there's the great argument that "we love what we do, so money shouldn't be the issue." There's something to be said for that, I suppose, but I grew up in a teacher household, and I am now a teacher household myself, and I am all too familiar with the problems money could ease. After all, no amount of love for one's job can put a new roof on one's house.
The crappiest part of it is that every year, the legislature plays a coy game with funding for education. They pretend they are going to fully fund us, but then they put it off, take bits of the budget for other things, give themselves payraises, and tell us to make do. It doesn't really matter who gets elected, either. Every election year is filled with the propaganda of education reform and funding. Every following term is filled with fattened off-shore accounts and personal purses for the legislators and tighter belts and more sacrifices on the part of the teachers.
I received less than two hundred dollars of classroom monies this year. I use my own money to provide Kleenex, pencils, cleaning supplies, paper for my printer, ink cartridges, and other "luxuries." I'm not the only teacher who does this by a long shot. Our already meager income is further reduced by trying to fill in the gaps for our funding. Why not spend the $200? Well, I have spent some of it. I used part of it to purchase some new instructional materials and to get supplies from our district warehouse. I'm hoarding the last $50 to try to have a chance to purchase some textbooks next year. To try to make you understand if you don't, last year I had to decide between buying whiteboard markers and having a filing cabinet that wasn't broken and useless. I chose the markers. After all, it was only my empty purse and a VCR I'd purchased with my own money that I put in the filing cabinet each day and hoped were safe.
I think that teachers are a people of hope. I don't know where it comes from. I think that deep down, we truly believe that one day the scales are going to fall from the political machine's eyes and somebody will say, "Hey! Did you know that teachers are molding the next generation. Maybe we'd better make sure they have enough food to do that with. Maybe we should give them something besides sticks and dirt to teach with!"
I don't know why I'm on this tangent tonight, or why the sight of two jugs of Red Diamond tea should have launched me into this, but it felt like the right thing to discuss. If you are a teacher, I know you understand. If you are not a teacher and you have the chance to kick one of our esteemed legislators down a steep flight of stairs, do if for all of us who wish we had the chance. In the meanwhile, we, the "few, the proud" will continue to do what we can.
I feel like I am provisioning myself for a great artic voyage when I do my payday shopping. My cart is always overflowing with dog food, milk, cheese, toilet tissue, and the other day-to-day necessities. I see other people staring at the cart in sort of perplexed wonder as I struggle to maneuver it, and I want to tell them, "If you had to buy everything you need for the month in one fell swoop, you'd shop like this, too."
This is teacher life. We live from once-a-month payday to once-a-month payday for a pittance. No other profession would do this. I can't for the life of me figure out why we do, either. Oh, there's the great argument that "we love what we do, so money shouldn't be the issue." There's something to be said for that, I suppose, but I grew up in a teacher household, and I am now a teacher household myself, and I am all too familiar with the problems money could ease. After all, no amount of love for one's job can put a new roof on one's house.
The crappiest part of it is that every year, the legislature plays a coy game with funding for education. They pretend they are going to fully fund us, but then they put it off, take bits of the budget for other things, give themselves payraises, and tell us to make do. It doesn't really matter who gets elected, either. Every election year is filled with the propaganda of education reform and funding. Every following term is filled with fattened off-shore accounts and personal purses for the legislators and tighter belts and more sacrifices on the part of the teachers.
I received less than two hundred dollars of classroom monies this year. I use my own money to provide Kleenex, pencils, cleaning supplies, paper for my printer, ink cartridges, and other "luxuries." I'm not the only teacher who does this by a long shot. Our already meager income is further reduced by trying to fill in the gaps for our funding. Why not spend the $200? Well, I have spent some of it. I used part of it to purchase some new instructional materials and to get supplies from our district warehouse. I'm hoarding the last $50 to try to have a chance to purchase some textbooks next year. To try to make you understand if you don't, last year I had to decide between buying whiteboard markers and having a filing cabinet that wasn't broken and useless. I chose the markers. After all, it was only my empty purse and a VCR I'd purchased with my own money that I put in the filing cabinet each day and hoped were safe.
I think that teachers are a people of hope. I don't know where it comes from. I think that deep down, we truly believe that one day the scales are going to fall from the political machine's eyes and somebody will say, "Hey! Did you know that teachers are molding the next generation. Maybe we'd better make sure they have enough food to do that with. Maybe we should give them something besides sticks and dirt to teach with!"
I don't know why I'm on this tangent tonight, or why the sight of two jugs of Red Diamond tea should have launched me into this, but it felt like the right thing to discuss. If you are a teacher, I know you understand. If you are not a teacher and you have the chance to kick one of our esteemed legislators down a steep flight of stairs, do if for all of us who wish we had the chance. In the meanwhile, we, the "few, the proud" will continue to do what we can.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Silence
During seventh period today, my printer inexplicably stopped working. No, that's inaccurate. It works, but the printer carriage moves back and forth across the page only about every minute or so. I tried everything I knew to do to fix it. I went so far as to uninstall and reinstall the printer. I rebooted endlessly. The stinking thing is still messed up.
The only thing I know of that might have caused it, and for the life of me, I don't see how, is that I changed to a new print cartridge. To test that theory, I put the almost used up one back in, and, voila, happy but inkless printer. How is it possible for a cartridge to SNAFU a printer? I'll know for sure tomorrow when I put in the new "new" cartridge I purchased at Podunk's office supply store. I hope that's all it is. I really can't take another day of fighting with it.
I got so upset with it that I almost hurled it out the window. I don't respond well to inanimate defiance even when I'm well-rested and full of patience. I'm neither right now, so I am sure you can imagine.
When I walked out to the car, the silence was like aloe on a sunburn. I turned off the stereo and rode home. I could barely even tolerate the quiet sound of my car engine. Everything, every sound was like someone touching a bruised area. In fact, I still feel bruised.
It wasn't the printer, or at least, not mainly the printer. This week has been long and stressful. Even though the state test is over, it's going to take me some time to recover from the buildup to it. As you know, once the adrenaline stops pumping, the body truly reveals its weariness. I need some time to just sit under a tree or lay in the sun until this feeling passes. I know I won't be able to get it anytime soon. I just hope that I can continue to keep going on whatever tattered reserves I have left. I have a feeling that I'll need lots of afternoons of silence.
The only thing I know of that might have caused it, and for the life of me, I don't see how, is that I changed to a new print cartridge. To test that theory, I put the almost used up one back in, and, voila, happy but inkless printer. How is it possible for a cartridge to SNAFU a printer? I'll know for sure tomorrow when I put in the new "new" cartridge I purchased at Podunk's office supply store. I hope that's all it is. I really can't take another day of fighting with it.
I got so upset with it that I almost hurled it out the window. I don't respond well to inanimate defiance even when I'm well-rested and full of patience. I'm neither right now, so I am sure you can imagine.
When I walked out to the car, the silence was like aloe on a sunburn. I turned off the stereo and rode home. I could barely even tolerate the quiet sound of my car engine. Everything, every sound was like someone touching a bruised area. In fact, I still feel bruised.
It wasn't the printer, or at least, not mainly the printer. This week has been long and stressful. Even though the state test is over, it's going to take me some time to recover from the buildup to it. As you know, once the adrenaline stops pumping, the body truly reveals its weariness. I need some time to just sit under a tree or lay in the sun until this feeling passes. I know I won't be able to get it anytime soon. I just hope that I can continue to keep going on whatever tattered reserves I have left. I have a feeling that I'll need lots of afternoons of silence.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
State Test
It's over! I don't know if the kids feel as much relief as I do, but I am sure happy. As soon as we handed in the test materials, it felt as if a huge stone was lifted. I hope everyone did their best on it. Even though I know I'll have a few who won't make it through, I can say that I felt confident going in this year. That was new.
This will be very brief. I'll try to get back to regular blogging soon. One more poetry mention before I go. I rediscovered Blake's "Poison Tree". Very good. I especially love the art he did to go with it. Check it out if you have the time.
This will be very brief. I'll try to get back to regular blogging soon. One more poetry mention before I go. I rediscovered Blake's "Poison Tree". Very good. I especially love the art he did to go with it. Check it out if you have the time.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
John Donne. Holy Sonnet 14.
John Donne. Holy Sonnet 14.
I am teaching metaphysical poetry right now in my mad dash toward getting the seniors ready for the impending AP test. I don't know that they are getting very into it, but I am rediscovering the beauty and power of John Donne.
I always liked Donne, but it's been quite some time since I read him. As I've come back to Meditation 17, Valediction: Forbidding Mourning, and Death Be Not Proud, there has been real joy for me. His poems are what I hope mine will grow to be. There is a personal nature to all his poems. They are slices of his heart laid before God, and now before us as well.
The poem that has moved me most is the one linked above, "Batter My Heart, Three-person'd God". The imagery and the diction are stunning. The violence of the language is not what you'd expect from a prayer, but it fits. I have felt like Donne, helpless, besieged by my own sinful nature, unable to help myself.
I particularly love the totality of his request. He holds nothing back because he knows that only if God possesses him, breaks him, reforms him can he be whole. Not necessarily a comforting poem, but one that is honest to the bone.
If you haven't read any of Donne's stuff, check the poem above, and then find "Death, Be Not Proud". Let me know what you think of them.
I am teaching metaphysical poetry right now in my mad dash toward getting the seniors ready for the impending AP test. I don't know that they are getting very into it, but I am rediscovering the beauty and power of John Donne.
I always liked Donne, but it's been quite some time since I read him. As I've come back to Meditation 17, Valediction: Forbidding Mourning, and Death Be Not Proud, there has been real joy for me. His poems are what I hope mine will grow to be. There is a personal nature to all his poems. They are slices of his heart laid before God, and now before us as well.
The poem that has moved me most is the one linked above, "Batter My Heart, Three-person'd God". The imagery and the diction are stunning. The violence of the language is not what you'd expect from a prayer, but it fits. I have felt like Donne, helpless, besieged by my own sinful nature, unable to help myself.
I particularly love the totality of his request. He holds nothing back because he knows that only if God possesses him, breaks him, reforms him can he be whole. Not necessarily a comforting poem, but one that is honest to the bone.
If you haven't read any of Donne's stuff, check the poem above, and then find "Death, Be Not Proud". Let me know what you think of them.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Once a Week
Well, we're back to the once a week postings. There's not much to tell. I had a peaceful Easter break, discovered the joy of electric hedge trimmers, and generally tidied up around.
This week is going to be rough. As of today, we are officially 7 days away from the state test. All else has pretty much ceased until that's over. Thursday is the awards ceremony for the poetry contest, and I'm scheduled to read. We also have an all day, off campus review session for all our 10th graders Thursday. Thursday night is Senior Awards night, and I don't think I'm going to be able to get to all those things. I love my seniors, but I might have to skip the awards ceremony.
I tried to use my Rollei this weekend. I think I managed to ruin a roll of film and possibly get one photo. It took me forever to figure out how to load it, and I discovered my counter must not work. I'm sure the people at our local "photo shoppe" (the pretentious e is deliberate) will charge me an arm and a leg to develop that one image and laugh at my ineptitude. Oh well.... we live, we learn.
I promise to get the winning poem up soon. I haven't forgotten. All other life has just gone away for the time being. I was doing really good to get this together. Don't give up. There will be more later. It just may have to wait until after the 25th.
This week is going to be rough. As of today, we are officially 7 days away from the state test. All else has pretty much ceased until that's over. Thursday is the awards ceremony for the poetry contest, and I'm scheduled to read. We also have an all day, off campus review session for all our 10th graders Thursday. Thursday night is Senior Awards night, and I don't think I'm going to be able to get to all those things. I love my seniors, but I might have to skip the awards ceremony.
I tried to use my Rollei this weekend. I think I managed to ruin a roll of film and possibly get one photo. It took me forever to figure out how to load it, and I discovered my counter must not work. I'm sure the people at our local "photo shoppe" (the pretentious e is deliberate) will charge me an arm and a leg to develop that one image and laugh at my ineptitude. Oh well.... we live, we learn.
I promise to get the winning poem up soon. I haven't forgotten. All other life has just gone away for the time being. I was doing really good to get this together. Don't give up. There will be more later. It just may have to wait until after the 25th.
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Lazy Saturday
Saturday night is your big night. Everybody used to fry up fish and have one hell of a time. Find me playing till sunrise for 50 cents and a sandwich. And be glad of it. And they really liked the low-down blues.
Muddy Waters
This quote doesn't really have all that much to do with my post, so don't get too excited. I just love Muddy Waters, and I'm in a bluesy mood, so I picked it from the quote site.
Today was about as low key as it's possible to get. I got up, did laundry, put away some, cleaned up the kitchen, and mowed the yard. I played with my dogs, stripped and remade the bed, and read on the couch. It was wonderful.
There were numerous things I should have gotten done today, but they'll keep. It was nice just to do what appealed to me when it moved me.
Muddy Waters
This quote doesn't really have all that much to do with my post, so don't get too excited. I just love Muddy Waters, and I'm in a bluesy mood, so I picked it from the quote site.
Today was about as low key as it's possible to get. I got up, did laundry, put away some, cleaned up the kitchen, and mowed the yard. I played with my dogs, stripped and remade the bed, and read on the couch. It was wonderful.
There were numerous things I should have gotten done today, but they'll keep. It was nice just to do what appealed to me when it moved me.
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Verdant
There is no other place that fills my heart like Mississippi in the spring. There is a quality to the light here always, a dusting of gold that coats everything in the late afternoon. In the spring, that quality expands and the simple act of driving home becomes a moment of epiphany.
The trees are becoming green again. It's so subtle at first that you can't be sure if it is real, a breath on a cold window pane. When it strengthens, there are a million shades of green among the trees. Sturdy pines mix with the delicate paleness of new dogwood leaves. The live oaks tassel and drop last year's leaves. Even the sluggish pecan has started to show the knobby buds that will eventually unfurl to clothe them.
Yesterday, the day was perfect. The sky was a blue that was right out of a Crayon box. Rising to the top of a highway hill outside of Podunk, I could feel my heart swell, and I felt a little like the Grinch when his heart grows so suddenly and breaks the bonds that had held it.
I came home, loosed Missy (whose nickname has become Roux), and sat in the chair in my shaggy backyard with a book. I read for awhile, but I also found myself just staring up into the live oak watching the shifting greens as the wind dragged its fingers through the canopy, opening and closing windows to the sky. I pity those who don't have a similar place of peace.
My yard won't ever win any awards for horticulture, and admittedly, my grass needs cutting more often than I am able to get to it, but there may never be a sweeter or prettier spot than that plastic Adirondack under the lush verdancy of the live oak in my back yard.
The trees are becoming green again. It's so subtle at first that you can't be sure if it is real, a breath on a cold window pane. When it strengthens, there are a million shades of green among the trees. Sturdy pines mix with the delicate paleness of new dogwood leaves. The live oaks tassel and drop last year's leaves. Even the sluggish pecan has started to show the knobby buds that will eventually unfurl to clothe them.
Yesterday, the day was perfect. The sky was a blue that was right out of a Crayon box. Rising to the top of a highway hill outside of Podunk, I could feel my heart swell, and I felt a little like the Grinch when his heart grows so suddenly and breaks the bonds that had held it.
I came home, loosed Missy (whose nickname has become Roux), and sat in the chair in my shaggy backyard with a book. I read for awhile, but I also found myself just staring up into the live oak watching the shifting greens as the wind dragged its fingers through the canopy, opening and closing windows to the sky. I pity those who don't have a similar place of peace.
My yard won't ever win any awards for horticulture, and admittedly, my grass needs cutting more often than I am able to get to it, but there may never be a sweeter or prettier spot than that plastic Adirondack under the lush verdancy of the live oak in my back yard.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Unexpected Gift
I didn't mention it because I genuinely didn't expect it to come to anything, but I entered and won our local poetry contest again this year. I entered both an essay and the poem, and I think both are going to be published. The prize is just for the poem, though.
It was a nice surprise. This is the time of the school year when both the students and we are completely sick of each other. There are many other responsibilities that are coming together right now, and I have been more than a little stressed.
I haven't had much if any time to work on my writing this year. It's been pushed to the side in a big way. I almost didn't even enter anything because I didn't feel that I had much that was ready. I hope that I have more time for writing this summer. I'm going to try to take the summer off (as much as possible) and recover.
I want to get something permanent (as much as anything can be) with the prize money. Right now, I'm thinking a tree for the yard. I don't know. As you can tell, I'm not very focused. I just wanted to share this good thing that happened.
It was a nice surprise. This is the time of the school year when both the students and we are completely sick of each other. There are many other responsibilities that are coming together right now, and I have been more than a little stressed.
I haven't had much if any time to work on my writing this year. It's been pushed to the side in a big way. I almost didn't even enter anything because I didn't feel that I had much that was ready. I hope that I have more time for writing this summer. I'm going to try to take the summer off (as much as possible) and recover.
I want to get something permanent (as much as anything can be) with the prize money. Right now, I'm thinking a tree for the yard. I don't know. As you can tell, I'm not very focused. I just wanted to share this good thing that happened.
Friday, March 24, 2006
A Month?
Today was a mixed up kind of day. It was "grades in the computer" day, which is never very encouraging as I realize how many of my students haven't quite figured out that passing might involve turning in a homework assignment. There are always some who have that magic change of heart and suddenly start doing what they need to, but there are also even more who just continue to slide down. It's a helpless feeling sometimes.
My AP classes are starting Chaucer, and I'm sure there will be a full-fledged blog post about it later. I love Chaucer. He was such an acute observer of humanity. His characters have all the same silliness and weakness of real people. I respect writers who can do that. We're all so full of little quirks and flaws, but I think a lot of writers are scared to touch that. To me, that's one of the best parts of us. I know I have enough "quirks" to fill a wheelbarrow. I would probably have been excellent fodder for Chaucer. I'm just ridiculous enough most days....
After school, I went on a quest for 120 film and discovered that there is none to be had here in Podunk. Nor is there any to be found in the slightly larger Podunk City to the east. In fact, in Podunk City, I was told that the 120 was on backorder and that they hoped they might get some NEXT MONTH. A month? What is this? Pony Express days? Are they having gnomes mine it out of a hillside and craft it by hand? Is it elfin magic? Impatience, impatience, impatience....
I suppose I'm going to have to go to Jackson to get the film. That will be okay. I've been looking for an excuse to head that way to see my best friend who lives out that way, anyway. I haven't been able to go visit with her for awhile. I'll probably have to wait until Blessed Payday gets here and then I can make the film and a couple of other things I need my April Splurge. Until then, I will have a good chance to practice my "patience skills", always sorely in need of betterment. Maybe I'll just go hold the camera some more and *pretend* there's film in it.... :)
My AP classes are starting Chaucer, and I'm sure there will be a full-fledged blog post about it later. I love Chaucer. He was such an acute observer of humanity. His characters have all the same silliness and weakness of real people. I respect writers who can do that. We're all so full of little quirks and flaws, but I think a lot of writers are scared to touch that. To me, that's one of the best parts of us. I know I have enough "quirks" to fill a wheelbarrow. I would probably have been excellent fodder for Chaucer. I'm just ridiculous enough most days....
After school, I went on a quest for 120 film and discovered that there is none to be had here in Podunk. Nor is there any to be found in the slightly larger Podunk City to the east. In fact, in Podunk City, I was told that the 120 was on backorder and that they hoped they might get some NEXT MONTH. A month? What is this? Pony Express days? Are they having gnomes mine it out of a hillside and craft it by hand? Is it elfin magic? Impatience, impatience, impatience....
I suppose I'm going to have to go to Jackson to get the film. That will be okay. I've been looking for an excuse to head that way to see my best friend who lives out that way, anyway. I haven't been able to go visit with her for awhile. I'll probably have to wait until Blessed Payday gets here and then I can make the film and a couple of other things I need my April Splurge. Until then, I will have a good chance to practice my "patience skills", always sorely in need of betterment. Maybe I'll just go hold the camera some more and *pretend* there's film in it.... :)
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
TLR and Other Things
I got my Rolleiflex yesterday. I am so proud of it. It's a physically beautiful piece of machinery. To me, all things should be made that way, substantial, with great attention to detail, function with beauty.
I have to spend some time learning to master it. It's going to be a big change from my Nikon. So much of the Nikon is automated that I can use it like a glorified point and shoot. This Rollei is going to require more intelligence on my part. Gee, I hope I can swing it. :)
I also got shot down by three or four more candidates on eHarmony. I have really begun to hate that website. The people it matches me to live on the other side of America and invariably want stick-insects to date. Since there's no refund, I won't cancel, but unless a miracle happens, I won't renew, either. Screw it.
Well, I am going back to my Wednesday night addiction, Ghost Hunters, and then I'm off to bed. Tomorrow is "Friday Eve" and I will be one day closer to playing with my Rollei.
I have to spend some time learning to master it. It's going to be a big change from my Nikon. So much of the Nikon is automated that I can use it like a glorified point and shoot. This Rollei is going to require more intelligence on my part. Gee, I hope I can swing it. :)
I also got shot down by three or four more candidates on eHarmony. I have really begun to hate that website. The people it matches me to live on the other side of America and invariably want stick-insects to date. Since there's no refund, I won't cancel, but unless a miracle happens, I won't renew, either. Screw it.
Well, I am going back to my Wednesday night addiction, Ghost Hunters, and then I'm off to bed. Tomorrow is "Friday Eve" and I will be one day closer to playing with my Rollei.
Saturday, March 18, 2006
The New Doctor Who
I am an old-school Dr. Who fan from way back. When I was still in elementary school, our Public Broadcasting channel (one of only three we could pick up) used to show Dr. Who every Saturday afternoon. Whatever my family was doing, we'd always stop and watch it together. I have good memories of it.
Since it went off the air, several attempts at reviving it have come along. The last one I saw was several years ago, and it just didn't have the right tone. The Doctor was more like a Romantic poet than a Timelord.
I saw the new Sci-Fi channel Dr. Who last night, and I have to say I was pretty happy with it. I like the guy they chose to play the Doctor. He's quirky, but it doesn't seem forced. He also doesn't seem to be deliberately imitating any of the previous Doctors.
The first episode even had some of the cheese and camp of the old episodes, too. When I saw the mannequins moving, I had to laugh. I don't mean the it wasn't creepy. After all, that's probably a common nightmare/phobia. But their movements and the whole arm through the elevator door thing reminded me of the Cybermen, etc. The scene where the arm comes to life and tries to kill Rose and the Doctor was almost MST3K-ish. It was great.
The second episode hearkened back to some of the great space station episodes of the past. Lovely costumes, but nothing too over the top, good, but not top-of-the-line CGI effects, all of it was the perfect tone for Dr. Who.
I want to see more episodes. If it holds its own or gets better, then it's going to be my favorite show. I'm just excited that it's back again. I have also realized that I have missed a lot of storyline history along the way. I've got to try to catch up. Apparently Gallifrey (sp?) was destroyed. When did that happen?
Oh well, more to enjoy. It's kind of nice to have something to look forward to again.
Since it went off the air, several attempts at reviving it have come along. The last one I saw was several years ago, and it just didn't have the right tone. The Doctor was more like a Romantic poet than a Timelord.
I saw the new Sci-Fi channel Dr. Who last night, and I have to say I was pretty happy with it. I like the guy they chose to play the Doctor. He's quirky, but it doesn't seem forced. He also doesn't seem to be deliberately imitating any of the previous Doctors.
The first episode even had some of the cheese and camp of the old episodes, too. When I saw the mannequins moving, I had to laugh. I don't mean the it wasn't creepy. After all, that's probably a common nightmare/phobia. But their movements and the whole arm through the elevator door thing reminded me of the Cybermen, etc. The scene where the arm comes to life and tries to kill Rose and the Doctor was almost MST3K-ish. It was great.
The second episode hearkened back to some of the great space station episodes of the past. Lovely costumes, but nothing too over the top, good, but not top-of-the-line CGI effects, all of it was the perfect tone for Dr. Who.
I want to see more episodes. If it holds its own or gets better, then it's going to be my favorite show. I'm just excited that it's back again. I have also realized that I have missed a lot of storyline history along the way. I've got to try to catch up. Apparently Gallifrey (sp?) was destroyed. When did that happen?
Oh well, more to enjoy. It's kind of nice to have something to look forward to again.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Sunset Boulevard
"I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille." -- Norma Desmond
One of my favorite films is Sunset Boulevard. I generally like Billy Wilder films. He and George Cukor are probably my favorite directors of that generation. I don't know enough about the art of movie making to talk about technical details, but neither of them ever makes an unremarkable film.
I watched SB tonight. I don't watch it as often as I run some of my other favorites. It needs time between the viewings to soften and blur before coming to it again. I love the gothic elements of it from the opening scenes with William Holden dead in the swimming pool to the dead chimpanzee to Norma herself.
The best scene in the movie is the last one where Norma is coming down the stairs performing for the news cameras. There is tragedy there, but also a regal presence you can't dismiss. That's what makes it so captivating, both for the other characters and for the audience. I love the line about "all those people sitting out there in the dark" that she makes. It's sort of startling to be addressed suddenly.
I first saw SB when I was at IU. They had a film series put on by their film studies department, and they had screenings of old films the way they'd have been seen in the theater during their heyday. It was great. I got to see Easy Rider, Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, and Double Indemnity that way. It was a favorite weekend destination for lots of people. You could bring in food and sit there with other fans and enjoy.
The Bloomington Parks and Recreation service also showed old movies on the side of an eighteen-wheeler trailer in one of the parks during the summer. That was great. You could take a blanket, whatever you wanted to partake of, load up kids and dogs, etc., and head to the park. I got to see The Awful Truth that way. I still love that film as well.
I wish there were more opportunities like that around here. In some cities, I know Memphis does it, at least, they take one of the grand old movie palaces and use it for that purpose. Nobody around here seems to think that's a profitable enterprise, though, so they don't do it. At least I have my DVDs. I can indulge any time I want. Now I just have to figure out a way to drag my TV outside and I guess I can have the complete experience.
One of my favorite films is Sunset Boulevard. I generally like Billy Wilder films. He and George Cukor are probably my favorite directors of that generation. I don't know enough about the art of movie making to talk about technical details, but neither of them ever makes an unremarkable film.
I watched SB tonight. I don't watch it as often as I run some of my other favorites. It needs time between the viewings to soften and blur before coming to it again. I love the gothic elements of it from the opening scenes with William Holden dead in the swimming pool to the dead chimpanzee to Norma herself.
The best scene in the movie is the last one where Norma is coming down the stairs performing for the news cameras. There is tragedy there, but also a regal presence you can't dismiss. That's what makes it so captivating, both for the other characters and for the audience. I love the line about "all those people sitting out there in the dark" that she makes. It's sort of startling to be addressed suddenly.
I first saw SB when I was at IU. They had a film series put on by their film studies department, and they had screenings of old films the way they'd have been seen in the theater during their heyday. It was great. I got to see Easy Rider, Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, and Double Indemnity that way. It was a favorite weekend destination for lots of people. You could bring in food and sit there with other fans and enjoy.
The Bloomington Parks and Recreation service also showed old movies on the side of an eighteen-wheeler trailer in one of the parks during the summer. That was great. You could take a blanket, whatever you wanted to partake of, load up kids and dogs, etc., and head to the park. I got to see The Awful Truth that way. I still love that film as well.
I wish there were more opportunities like that around here. In some cities, I know Memphis does it, at least, they take one of the grand old movie palaces and use it for that purpose. Nobody around here seems to think that's a profitable enterprise, though, so they don't do it. At least I have my DVDs. I can indulge any time I want. Now I just have to figure out a way to drag my TV outside and I guess I can have the complete experience.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Pointless
There's a line in You've Got Mail where Meg Ryan's character asks one of the guys who works in her store if he's online. He replies with something like, "The internet is just another way for me to be rejected by women." I am beginning to sympathize.
My eHarmony experiences have not been very good so far. The few guys I've gotten to the open communication stage with have been nice, but there's been no spark of any kind thus far. I posted pictures and had two guys tell me that they are "pursuing other relationships" and close the matches with me. I'm pretty sure that was their polite way of saying, "Oh NO, NO, NO" after seeing the pictures.
As you can imagine, this has been a tremendous ego boost for me. I don't know how much longer I'm going to keep this up. It's bad enough not to be able to find anybody locally. It's much, much more depressing to find out that not even the much touted eHarmony computer can find a match for me. I feel like a sideshow freak.
My membership with them runs until May, so I'll play it out until then. I just don't know how many more rejections from anonymous guys I can take. Even though I'm trying to stay positive about it, it just reinforces ideas I have already been fighting on a daily basis for years about my attractiveness and the possibility that a member of the opposite sex will ever see me as anything other than a friend.
Those voices are hard to fight, especially in the face of so much evidence to the contrary. I have always been the girl friend and never the girlfriend. It was made excruciatingly clear to me in the past that I didn't have what it took to be a girlfriend in the attractiveness department.
Sorry. I didn't intend for this to turn into a pity party. Well, chin up, laugh, clown, laugh, tomorrow's another day, and any other cliche that might apply.
My eHarmony experiences have not been very good so far. The few guys I've gotten to the open communication stage with have been nice, but there's been no spark of any kind thus far. I posted pictures and had two guys tell me that they are "pursuing other relationships" and close the matches with me. I'm pretty sure that was their polite way of saying, "Oh NO, NO, NO" after seeing the pictures.
As you can imagine, this has been a tremendous ego boost for me. I don't know how much longer I'm going to keep this up. It's bad enough not to be able to find anybody locally. It's much, much more depressing to find out that not even the much touted eHarmony computer can find a match for me. I feel like a sideshow freak.
My membership with them runs until May, so I'll play it out until then. I just don't know how many more rejections from anonymous guys I can take. Even though I'm trying to stay positive about it, it just reinforces ideas I have already been fighting on a daily basis for years about my attractiveness and the possibility that a member of the opposite sex will ever see me as anything other than a friend.
Those voices are hard to fight, especially in the face of so much evidence to the contrary. I have always been the girl friend and never the girlfriend. It was made excruciatingly clear to me in the past that I didn't have what it took to be a girlfriend in the attractiveness department.
Sorry. I didn't intend for this to turn into a pity party. Well, chin up, laugh, clown, laugh, tomorrow's another day, and any other cliche that might apply.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
The Joy of the Nap
I don't feel old. I don't feel anything till noon. That's when it's time for my nap.
Bob Hope
I got up today with the best of intentions. Today was going to be the day I did a lot of those dirty outdoor chores that have been piling up. I even made it outside and got halfway into one of the worst jobs, raking the live oak leaves away from the foundation of the house.
Suddenly, though, the sun was just too tempting. I laid aside the rake, grabbed The Secret Life of Bees, and sat down in the plastic chair in my back yard. That has become one of my great pleasures. I want to build a patio area back there, but I'm not sure about how to go about it despite the numerous HGTV shows I've seen on that topic. Next month, I may also get this incredibly tempting round lounger thing from Wal-Mart.
I read for a couple of hours. The combination of the warm sun, the cool winds, the sounds of the birds at the feeders, and the whuffling of the dogs was as potent a sleeping draught as any drug imaginable. The next thing I knew, I was sprawled out in the chair with my head thrown back and my book dangling by two fingers.
I decided to give up. I came in, shuffled my cat Yoda off the covers, and settled in. I feel better now than I have in a long time. Apparently, I wasn't as recovered as I thought I was. At least I've got Spring Break to make up for lost time. I hope I can get another day to just loaf and read. I really can't imagine a tropical retreat that would be any more pleasurable.
Bob Hope
I got up today with the best of intentions. Today was going to be the day I did a lot of those dirty outdoor chores that have been piling up. I even made it outside and got halfway into one of the worst jobs, raking the live oak leaves away from the foundation of the house.
Suddenly, though, the sun was just too tempting. I laid aside the rake, grabbed The Secret Life of Bees, and sat down in the plastic chair in my back yard. That has become one of my great pleasures. I want to build a patio area back there, but I'm not sure about how to go about it despite the numerous HGTV shows I've seen on that topic. Next month, I may also get this incredibly tempting round lounger thing from Wal-Mart.
I read for a couple of hours. The combination of the warm sun, the cool winds, the sounds of the birds at the feeders, and the whuffling of the dogs was as potent a sleeping draught as any drug imaginable. The next thing I knew, I was sprawled out in the chair with my head thrown back and my book dangling by two fingers.
I decided to give up. I came in, shuffled my cat Yoda off the covers, and settled in. I feel better now than I have in a long time. Apparently, I wasn't as recovered as I thought I was. At least I've got Spring Break to make up for lost time. I hope I can get another day to just loaf and read. I really can't imagine a tropical retreat that would be any more pleasurable.
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