Yep, it's the calm before the spring storm--um, I mean, semester! Grades are in, I've actually had a couple of days at home (and one day at the bookstore, which I'll get to in a minute), and I've actually managed to alphabetize my cds, dvds and vhs tapes, which I haven't been able to do since I moved into my house. I woke up Sunday and just decided to do it, after sitting on my hands (really!) to keep from trying to work. I've been in work mode for a year and a half, so not doing something is difficult for me.
And, after bending and stretching to get things into place, I felt as though I had been on a stairstepper at the gym. When I went into the bookstore to work on Monday, I was sore, as though I'd been through a tough workout. And, of course, standing for eight hours didn't help work out the kinks. I'm still feeling sore, but I'm sure I'll recover from that just in time to go back to the bookstore Saturday (hopefully, not for the entire day).
My daughter and her boyfriend are heading this way for Christmas, so I'll have company for a few days. That will be nice, since my family 45 miles north thinks it's too far to drive to my house. My daughter is driving from Austin to Arlington, TX, and then to here. I just don't think my family has a good excuse--after all, I drive the distance and back nearly every day of the semester.
This will be a lean Christmas, what with rising gas prices, new tires for the car this summer, and price increases on everything. So, I've done a great deal of knitting, especially slippers, because they are fast! I think I've got most of my gifts covered, and I know my family members love handmade gifts. Slippers, plus cookies, plus biscuit mix, plus muffins=satisfaction!
I hope everyone has a great holiday, whatever you celebrate! I plan to sleep as much as possible and get ready for the new year.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Sometimes, You're the Bug...
Yesterday was not a good day, overall. I'm sure, in retrospect, it wasn't worse than any other day I've had in my life, but it's not one I want to linger over.
There's the whole "end of semester" craziness, of course. Students who panic now when they should have panicked a great deal earlier--they are driving me nuts. How many times can I say, "Don't talk to me about grades during dead week," or "I won't read late work" before they listen? So, all this late work that I won't grade piles up, and they wait until now to mention it. Too late! I have enough to do right now; I don't have the time or the inclination to grade work that should have been graded a month ago.
So, yesterday morning, I went to the grocery store to get what I needed so I could hibernate this weekend, stay in and grade papers and catch up on things I need to do. I'm the "I'll take my groceries out myself"-type of woman; it's not that I don't want to tip the bag person, or anything. I just know he/she won't be carrying my groceries in my house for me.
As I'm signing my name to the receipt, the sacker starts putting my paltry haul into bags for me. I only had two light bags and a big bag of cat food, so I knew I could carry those out. When he asked me if he could take my purchases out for me, I said, "That's okay. I can do it." I came around the end of the check-out stand, picked up my bags, and proceeded to trip over the two boxes the guy had dropped at the end of the stand.
I didn't see the boxes; I didn't know he had dropped them there because I was not watching him while I was signing my name. He did not say, "Watch out for those boxes."
I went sprawling on the hard tile floor.
I guess we react to something like this the same way we react to a car accident--slow motion flashes of our lives up to that moment. I fell on my left side--my butt, my elbow and hand, and my left knee hit the ground in succession. I sat there for a few seconds; everyone and everything in the store stopped. I was soon surrounded by most of the employees, all of whom left whatever they were doing to make sure I was okay.
Well, I was in some pain, but I was more embarrassed than anything. "Are you okay?" I must have been asked that twenty times. No, I'm not "okay," but nothing is sprained or broken, except my ego! I limped to my car with the sacker guy carrying my bags. When I tried to tip him, he said, "No, ma'am. You don't owe me a thing!"
When I tried to get out of bed this morning, I swear I could hear my body creak. I was stiff and the bruise on my knee is purple. My left arm hurts, and I can't type for long before my pinkie and ring fingers go numb. Maybe I should call the store and ask the manager to file an incident report in case I need to see a doctor. But, I'm not the suing type, so I'll just take some more ibuprofen.
Okay, so that took care of the morning. I limped through the rest of the afternoon. When I finished grading, reading, etc., all the papers that my students sent me on Thursday and Friday, I sat on the sofa knitting.
Golum (you know him!) came scampering through the living room around nine or ten last evening, obviously chasing something. I was hoping it was a lizard or grasshopper, but then I saw a brown field mouse hop away from him. He brought a mouse in the house. I don't know if any of the cats have caught it yet, but I hope the mouse had the good sense to run out as fast as it could. I hate mice and rats; they are probably the only animals I don't have sympathy for. I don't mind if they stay outside, but I don't want them in my house. And I really don't need the cats bringing them inside.
I haven't seen the mouse since last night, and I don't want to. My only consolation is that I know the cats will get it if it shows itself anywhere inside. Darn cats.
There's the whole "end of semester" craziness, of course. Students who panic now when they should have panicked a great deal earlier--they are driving me nuts. How many times can I say, "Don't talk to me about grades during dead week," or "I won't read late work" before they listen? So, all this late work that I won't grade piles up, and they wait until now to mention it. Too late! I have enough to do right now; I don't have the time or the inclination to grade work that should have been graded a month ago.
So, yesterday morning, I went to the grocery store to get what I needed so I could hibernate this weekend, stay in and grade papers and catch up on things I need to do. I'm the "I'll take my groceries out myself"-type of woman; it's not that I don't want to tip the bag person, or anything. I just know he/she won't be carrying my groceries in my house for me.
As I'm signing my name to the receipt, the sacker starts putting my paltry haul into bags for me. I only had two light bags and a big bag of cat food, so I knew I could carry those out. When he asked me if he could take my purchases out for me, I said, "That's okay. I can do it." I came around the end of the check-out stand, picked up my bags, and proceeded to trip over the two boxes the guy had dropped at the end of the stand.
I didn't see the boxes; I didn't know he had dropped them there because I was not watching him while I was signing my name. He did not say, "Watch out for those boxes."
I went sprawling on the hard tile floor.
I guess we react to something like this the same way we react to a car accident--slow motion flashes of our lives up to that moment. I fell on my left side--my butt, my elbow and hand, and my left knee hit the ground in succession. I sat there for a few seconds; everyone and everything in the store stopped. I was soon surrounded by most of the employees, all of whom left whatever they were doing to make sure I was okay.
Well, I was in some pain, but I was more embarrassed than anything. "Are you okay?" I must have been asked that twenty times. No, I'm not "okay," but nothing is sprained or broken, except my ego! I limped to my car with the sacker guy carrying my bags. When I tried to tip him, he said, "No, ma'am. You don't owe me a thing!"
When I tried to get out of bed this morning, I swear I could hear my body creak. I was stiff and the bruise on my knee is purple. My left arm hurts, and I can't type for long before my pinkie and ring fingers go numb. Maybe I should call the store and ask the manager to file an incident report in case I need to see a doctor. But, I'm not the suing type, so I'll just take some more ibuprofen.
Okay, so that took care of the morning. I limped through the rest of the afternoon. When I finished grading, reading, etc., all the papers that my students sent me on Thursday and Friday, I sat on the sofa knitting.
Golum (you know him!) came scampering through the living room around nine or ten last evening, obviously chasing something. I was hoping it was a lizard or grasshopper, but then I saw a brown field mouse hop away from him. He brought a mouse in the house. I don't know if any of the cats have caught it yet, but I hope the mouse had the good sense to run out as fast as it could. I hate mice and rats; they are probably the only animals I don't have sympathy for. I don't mind if they stay outside, but I don't want them in my house. And I really don't need the cats bringing them inside.
I haven't seen the mouse since last night, and I don't want to. My only consolation is that I know the cats will get it if it shows itself anywhere inside. Darn cats.
Monday, December 03, 2007
Something I've Learned This Semester...
Grading papers is more fun when I watch "SpongeBob SquarePants" while I'm doing it.
And bird number five flew around my house for about five minutes before my oldest cat, who I didn't put out with the rest of them, caught it and ate it. This was a sparrow, a baby, and I tried to catch it and put it outside, but it wouldn't let me catch it. I didn't put Callie out because she's old, and I didn't think she could move too fast. I was so wrong about that. I shouldn't underestimate the motivating power of a bird, even on an old cat.
And bird number five flew around my house for about five minutes before my oldest cat, who I didn't put out with the rest of them, caught it and ate it. This was a sparrow, a baby, and I tried to catch it and put it outside, but it wouldn't let me catch it. I didn't put Callie out because she's old, and I didn't think she could move too fast. I was so wrong about that. I shouldn't underestimate the motivating power of a bird, even on an old cat.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
My Killer Cat
I have a cat named Golum (Frodo's nemesis from The Lord of the Rings) that I took in as a favor for a professor at the college (allergies). I've written about this cat before, and somewhere on this blog I probably have a picture of him. He's a beautiful cat, agreeable and sweet, but he has his peculiarities. He doesn't want to eat out of the food bowls, for example; he wants to eat out of the container where I store the food, so, at least four times a day, I have to open the pantry and the container and let him eat until he's through. A pain, yes, but each of my cats has his/her own peculiar behaviors, so he fits right in.
He has one other annoying habit--he catches and kills birds. Well, he catches and kills rats, too, but I don't mind that. I always hope I have at least one good mouser/ratter. But killing birds is another thing.
This morning, I woke up around 8:30am and stumbled to the kitchen to start the ritual--make the coffee, fill the food bowls, open the pantry for Golum...but, no! Kill number four was flopping around on my kitchen rug, or, rather, Golum was tossing it around the same way the character Golum slapped the wriggling fish around in the movie. Little fluffy underfeathers flew around the kitchen (took quite a while to sweep them up). I grabbed Golum, who was growling like a dog with a bone, and put him out the back door. I watched the other cats circle him, and, I imagine, Golum continued growling, even as he wolfed down the bird, feet and all.
He hasn't whined for the food container tonight, so he must still be full.
I understand, to some extent, how nature works. Worms eat dirt, birds eat worms, cats eat birds, and, once in a while, a coyote comes on the property and eats a cat, or a stray dog runs a cat to death (not necessarily to eat it). So I'm not naive enough to think my cats won't do what they instinctively know they should.
My cat's behavior, though, makes me wonder how much of human behavior is programmed in--murder, war, love, sex, lying, whatever. Do I do what I do because it's coded into my DNA? I can't count the number of times I've done things without giving a thought to them. But, sometimes, I stop and ask myself, "Why did you just do that?" and I can't give myself an answer. I don't know for sure, but I hope I'm not living by instinct.
I came across a poem by Mary Oliver (one of my favorite modern poets), entitled "When Death Comes," and she reminded me of the importance of conscious living--always approaching the world with amazement and wonder. Here are the last lines of the poem (but find it and read the whole thing!):
When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it is over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
He has one other annoying habit--he catches and kills birds. Well, he catches and kills rats, too, but I don't mind that. I always hope I have at least one good mouser/ratter. But killing birds is another thing.
This morning, I woke up around 8:30am and stumbled to the kitchen to start the ritual--make the coffee, fill the food bowls, open the pantry for Golum...but, no! Kill number four was flopping around on my kitchen rug, or, rather, Golum was tossing it around the same way the character Golum slapped the wriggling fish around in the movie. Little fluffy underfeathers flew around the kitchen (took quite a while to sweep them up). I grabbed Golum, who was growling like a dog with a bone, and put him out the back door. I watched the other cats circle him, and, I imagine, Golum continued growling, even as he wolfed down the bird, feet and all.
He hasn't whined for the food container tonight, so he must still be full.
I understand, to some extent, how nature works. Worms eat dirt, birds eat worms, cats eat birds, and, once in a while, a coyote comes on the property and eats a cat, or a stray dog runs a cat to death (not necessarily to eat it). So I'm not naive enough to think my cats won't do what they instinctively know they should.
My cat's behavior, though, makes me wonder how much of human behavior is programmed in--murder, war, love, sex, lying, whatever. Do I do what I do because it's coded into my DNA? I can't count the number of times I've done things without giving a thought to them. But, sometimes, I stop and ask myself, "Why did you just do that?" and I can't give myself an answer. I don't know for sure, but I hope I'm not living by instinct.
I came across a poem by Mary Oliver (one of my favorite modern poets), entitled "When Death Comes," and she reminded me of the importance of conscious living--always approaching the world with amazement and wonder. Here are the last lines of the poem (but find it and read the whole thing!):
When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it is over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?
I was asleep last Sunday, the morning that DST took effect, when I felt a stinging along my right arm. I figured a mosquito somehow survived the cold snap and was siphoning some blood, so I stuck my arm under the covers. A few moments later, I felt the same stinging on my shoulder. I brought my left arm from under the covers to swat at the "mosquito" and, instead, touched a soft ball of fur.
As is my usual habit on the weekend, I usually don't go to bed until very early in the morning--say around 2 or 3am. So, having been up very early (or late, depending on how you see it) on Sunday morning, I anticipated sleeping late on Sunday, at least past 9am.
But, no. Thanks to DST, the sun was up, the time was 7am, and my cats were ready to roll. My puppy cat, Buddy, nips at me to wake me. That's the signal for food and an open door. So, I found a line of small bruises on my arm where he had nipped me--obviously, those bites didn't register enough to wake me up. I swear, if I die in my sleep, my cats will eat me.
Once I threw the cats out, I crawled back into bed and pulled the covers over my head to block out the sun. I need to get some darker curtains!
So, how long have we been falling back and springing forward? I feel as though I've been doing it all my life, so I'm wondering where this started. I found a website that pretty well explains it. I don't mind the fall back part, but I hate the spring forward part. And it really screws up my inner clock. I went to bed at 2am this morning and woke up at 7:30am. I think I need a nap.
******
I have been working on my family's genealogy for years and have made some significant advances this year. I finally found my great-great-grandfather and his father, and I found a great deal of information on my great-grandmother and her parents and brothers, stuff even my mother didn't know. And I made contact with someone who is my great-great aunt's granddaughter by marriage. This "relative" sent me pictures of relatives I've never met. That's so cool! I've also published a family website (private) that has everything I've found so far. It's huge, with over 350 people on it. And I have pictures, too.
If I'm not careful, I get so wrapped up in it that I lose time. It's as obsessive for me as knitting, so I'm torn. I can either knit or surf the web looking for anscestors. So I split my time when I'm not grading papers between those two hobbies. At least I'm not out running the street!
As is my usual habit on the weekend, I usually don't go to bed until very early in the morning--say around 2 or 3am. So, having been up very early (or late, depending on how you see it) on Sunday morning, I anticipated sleeping late on Sunday, at least past 9am.
But, no. Thanks to DST, the sun was up, the time was 7am, and my cats were ready to roll. My puppy cat, Buddy, nips at me to wake me. That's the signal for food and an open door. So, I found a line of small bruises on my arm where he had nipped me--obviously, those bites didn't register enough to wake me up. I swear, if I die in my sleep, my cats will eat me.
Once I threw the cats out, I crawled back into bed and pulled the covers over my head to block out the sun. I need to get some darker curtains!
So, how long have we been falling back and springing forward? I feel as though I've been doing it all my life, so I'm wondering where this started. I found a website that pretty well explains it. I don't mind the fall back part, but I hate the spring forward part. And it really screws up my inner clock. I went to bed at 2am this morning and woke up at 7:30am. I think I need a nap.
******
I have been working on my family's genealogy for years and have made some significant advances this year. I finally found my great-great-grandfather and his father, and I found a great deal of information on my great-grandmother and her parents and brothers, stuff even my mother didn't know. And I made contact with someone who is my great-great aunt's granddaughter by marriage. This "relative" sent me pictures of relatives I've never met. That's so cool! I've also published a family website (private) that has everything I've found so far. It's huge, with over 350 people on it. And I have pictures, too.
If I'm not careful, I get so wrapped up in it that I lose time. It's as obsessive for me as knitting, so I'm torn. I can either knit or surf the web looking for anscestors. So I split my time when I'm not grading papers between those two hobbies. At least I'm not out running the street!
Sunday, November 04, 2007
The Time Change isn't Saving Me
Yep, here we go, setting our clocks back again. For me, it doesn't make any difference. I'm still going to stay up until three in the morning looking for my ancestors.
I've been doing genealogy for about 15 or 20 years, and I just now feel as though I'm making progress. I managed to get a family site published to the Internet this weekend (sorry, it's private), and I made contact with someone who lives in Maryland who's grandfather married one of my relative's widows. It's complicated, but utterly interesting to me.
But, with every step forward, I take two back. I've been trying to find my relatives further back in Ireland. The earliest one I can find was born in 1765, and I'm not sure he "belongs" to me. On the one hand, because my ancestors named all their children the same from one generation to another, I can find them easily; on the other hand, I have trouble figuring out who belongs to who. I think this is a good excuse for a trip to Ireland (as if I need one)!
And, yes, I know I haven't posted to my blog lately, but, between grading papers and searching for ancestors, I haven't had time for much else. I did go out this morning and try to set fire to the large limb in my yard, but it still doesn't really want to burn. I'm either going to have to bribe my brothers to bring their chainsaws (after deer season, of course), or I'm going to have to buy my own chainsaw and have at it. I'll get someone to take pictures if that ever happens!
But the morning was beautiful, and the small fire I did get started was pleasant, and I had a chance to relax. And, I managed to get most of the necessary work done today (I just have a few late papers to grade), so I had some time to myself this evening.
It all starts over tomorrow, though. Sigh! But the semester's almost over, and I think I might schedule a trip to Austin to tackle the John Twohig papers at UT--I'm trying to find out if we're related to him. He was a first son of Texas, a banker and philanthropist (except to his own family). When he died in 1891, his obit was carried in the NY Times. He left a fortune estimated at (in 1892) $1.2 million. The Catholic Church was supposed to get the bulk of it, but Twohig's family contested the will. The settlement also made the NY Times in 1892. The Church ended up with $200,000, and Twohig's various relatives received about $80,000 each. I'll bet they are burning in hell for that. Anyway, I have a bunch of names I'm trying to track, without luck.
I'm surprised my hair hasn't turned totally grey (oh, yeah, time for a dye job!).
I've been doing genealogy for about 15 or 20 years, and I just now feel as though I'm making progress. I managed to get a family site published to the Internet this weekend (sorry, it's private), and I made contact with someone who lives in Maryland who's grandfather married one of my relative's widows. It's complicated, but utterly interesting to me.
But, with every step forward, I take two back. I've been trying to find my relatives further back in Ireland. The earliest one I can find was born in 1765, and I'm not sure he "belongs" to me. On the one hand, because my ancestors named all their children the same from one generation to another, I can find them easily; on the other hand, I have trouble figuring out who belongs to who. I think this is a good excuse for a trip to Ireland (as if I need one)!
And, yes, I know I haven't posted to my blog lately, but, between grading papers and searching for ancestors, I haven't had time for much else. I did go out this morning and try to set fire to the large limb in my yard, but it still doesn't really want to burn. I'm either going to have to bribe my brothers to bring their chainsaws (after deer season, of course), or I'm going to have to buy my own chainsaw and have at it. I'll get someone to take pictures if that ever happens!
But the morning was beautiful, and the small fire I did get started was pleasant, and I had a chance to relax. And, I managed to get most of the necessary work done today (I just have a few late papers to grade), so I had some time to myself this evening.
It all starts over tomorrow, though. Sigh! But the semester's almost over, and I think I might schedule a trip to Austin to tackle the John Twohig papers at UT--I'm trying to find out if we're related to him. He was a first son of Texas, a banker and philanthropist (except to his own family). When he died in 1891, his obit was carried in the NY Times. He left a fortune estimated at (in 1892) $1.2 million. The Catholic Church was supposed to get the bulk of it, but Twohig's family contested the will. The settlement also made the NY Times in 1892. The Church ended up with $200,000, and Twohig's various relatives received about $80,000 each. I'll bet they are burning in hell for that. Anyway, I have a bunch of names I'm trying to track, without luck.
I'm surprised my hair hasn't turned totally grey (oh, yeah, time for a dye job!).
Saturday, October 20, 2007
A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood...
Windy and slightly cool, one of those nice, early autumn days.
We're about to take off for the Maker's Fair, a huge event hosted by the editors of Make magazine and Craft Magazine. If you've never seen Make, you should take a look at it. You can buy it on newsstands, or you can go to their website (I don't have the exact URL, but you can Google it).
When I arrived in Austin on Thursday, the temperature reached around 91 degrees. But, from Thursday night on, it's been really cool at night, with temps around 60 and daytime highs have hovered in the eighties. I spent most of my time in the car yesterday, which I hate. The worst thing about Austin is that you practically have to drive everywhere and the traffic is horrendous any time of the day or night.
We ate at Mars restaurant last night--that's where my daughter works--and the food was good. We ate out on the deck and it was so dark that I really couldn't see my food, but that didn't stop me from eating it--a Mongolian chicken stir fry. I get tired of the "organic" thing while I'm here, but I certainly eat better than I do at home.
We plan on cooking tonight. Since both of my kids cook for a living, I always eat well here.
I may add more later, but, right now, I'm just waiting for Dot and Pete to get back from the bank/coffee shop. Hope you are enjoying your fall break, too. More later.
We're about to take off for the Maker's Fair, a huge event hosted by the editors of Make magazine and Craft Magazine. If you've never seen Make, you should take a look at it. You can buy it on newsstands, or you can go to their website (I don't have the exact URL, but you can Google it).
When I arrived in Austin on Thursday, the temperature reached around 91 degrees. But, from Thursday night on, it's been really cool at night, with temps around 60 and daytime highs have hovered in the eighties. I spent most of my time in the car yesterday, which I hate. The worst thing about Austin is that you practically have to drive everywhere and the traffic is horrendous any time of the day or night.
We ate at Mars restaurant last night--that's where my daughter works--and the food was good. We ate out on the deck and it was so dark that I really couldn't see my food, but that didn't stop me from eating it--a Mongolian chicken stir fry. I get tired of the "organic" thing while I'm here, but I certainly eat better than I do at home.
We plan on cooking tonight. Since both of my kids cook for a living, I always eat well here.
I may add more later, but, right now, I'm just waiting for Dot and Pete to get back from the bank/coffee shop. Hope you are enjoying your fall break, too. More later.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Early Morning Call Out...
I was up last night until about midnight, reading drafts of student papers and trying to send those papers back to students in our course management software. Unbenownst to me (but I know now), the administrator of our system takes it down at 10pm to back it up. Sure would be nice if he'd let us know this. I spent almost another hour, between 10p and 11p, trying to send the papers back. Another good reason why my students shouldn't wait to send their work to me.
So, I set the alarm clock for 8am (usual on a Tuesday night). I don't leave my house on Mondays or Wednesdays until about 11am, but, this morning, I needed to leave a bit early because I was scheduled to present a talk to another class at 11am. But I really wanted to sleep until 8am; I needed it after a day of reading essays and fighting the computer.
This is something of a digression, but Tuesday was a horrible computer day. I couldn't get into the lab where I usually teach my first class because someone had jammed the door and neither I nor the secretary could get it opened. So, we had to move to another lab. Then, in my second class, the computer/overhead system wouldn't work because the computing services department hadn't signed on to the administrator's computer; whenever they take the campus-wide system down, any computer that needs an administrative login has to be reset. And they won't give anyone in my department the code to restart the computer. But, if I call them to come reset the computer, I'm lucky if they show up 45 minutes into the class. I need the system to work when class begins, not when it's half over.
Well, okay. I had a frustrating day with the people who deal with computers and with idiots who can't shut doors properly.
Exhausted and mentally drained, I went to bed and slept soundly until...
7am, when the sound of chainsaws ripped through my dreams. I looked out the window, and there, in my neighbor's yard, a tree-service company was cutting down a pine tree. I tried to go back to sleep, but the chainsaws just kept working. Finally, at 7:30, I got out of bed, made coffee, and went outside to put the trash at the curb for the garbage person.
I walked to the truck parked in my neighbor's driveway and asked for the guy in charge. I pointed out my bedroom window and explained that I had worked late last night, and why on earth were they chopping down a tree at 7am? Even though I live in a small town, I am not a farmer and I don't get up with the chickens. The guy apologized and said he was working with CLECO. He didn't schedule the work; he just did it when they told him to. I asked him to take a message back to his contacts--if they are going to schedule an early tree-cutting session outside of my bedroom window at 7am, I want a week's notice so I can get to bed earlier.
Maybe I'm just getting to be one of those crochety old ladies who wants everything her way. I don't know. I just know that this has been a frustrating week. I want the universe and its minions to work with me, not against me! Above all, I just want everything to work the way it should.
So, I set the alarm clock for 8am (usual on a Tuesday night). I don't leave my house on Mondays or Wednesdays until about 11am, but, this morning, I needed to leave a bit early because I was scheduled to present a talk to another class at 11am. But I really wanted to sleep until 8am; I needed it after a day of reading essays and fighting the computer.
This is something of a digression, but Tuesday was a horrible computer day. I couldn't get into the lab where I usually teach my first class because someone had jammed the door and neither I nor the secretary could get it opened. So, we had to move to another lab. Then, in my second class, the computer/overhead system wouldn't work because the computing services department hadn't signed on to the administrator's computer; whenever they take the campus-wide system down, any computer that needs an administrative login has to be reset. And they won't give anyone in my department the code to restart the computer. But, if I call them to come reset the computer, I'm lucky if they show up 45 minutes into the class. I need the system to work when class begins, not when it's half over.
Well, okay. I had a frustrating day with the people who deal with computers and with idiots who can't shut doors properly.
Exhausted and mentally drained, I went to bed and slept soundly until...
7am, when the sound of chainsaws ripped through my dreams. I looked out the window, and there, in my neighbor's yard, a tree-service company was cutting down a pine tree. I tried to go back to sleep, but the chainsaws just kept working. Finally, at 7:30, I got out of bed, made coffee, and went outside to put the trash at the curb for the garbage person.
I walked to the truck parked in my neighbor's driveway and asked for the guy in charge. I pointed out my bedroom window and explained that I had worked late last night, and why on earth were they chopping down a tree at 7am? Even though I live in a small town, I am not a farmer and I don't get up with the chickens. The guy apologized and said he was working with CLECO. He didn't schedule the work; he just did it when they told him to. I asked him to take a message back to his contacts--if they are going to schedule an early tree-cutting session outside of my bedroom window at 7am, I want a week's notice so I can get to bed earlier.
Maybe I'm just getting to be one of those crochety old ladies who wants everything her way. I don't know. I just know that this has been a frustrating week. I want the universe and its minions to work with me, not against me! Above all, I just want everything to work the way it should.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
CSI New Season!
Well, tonight at 8pm, I'm stopping everything to watch the premiere of the new CSI season. Of course, I, like every other CSI watcher, have to know if Sarah Sidle lives or dies. The gossip sites have been mum about this, and I haven't heard that Jorja Fox has accepted any new projects or that her contract hasn't been renewed, so I'm thinking she'll live. Actually, I don't really care whether she stays or goes, but I like the original CSI better than Miami or NY (in spite of Gary Sinese). This is really one of the few "new" shows that I keep up with; I have all last season on my iPod.
And today is my son's 27th birthday. How did he get so old? I can remember when he was a baby, and that doesn't seem so long ago. I'm curious about his new girlfriend--I haven't met her. I think I need to take a trip to Austin soon and check her out. Of course, I'm not that old! How great that my kids age and I don't!
Oops--minor interruption here--I had to grab Golem and throw him out; he brought in a bird he caught; and I've lost my glasses--I don't know where I put them down while I was chasing the cat around the house. D&%* cats! So now I need to go back over every place I chased the cat and see if I dropped the glasses on the floor before I step on them.
This has been a loooong week. And it's about to get longer. I have papers coming in from all of my classes, as well as their weekly work. How did that happen? Of course, in my defense, I gave one class an extension on their papers because they just couldn't get them together. I probably won't get these back too quickly, though I pride myself on turning work around quickly. But I'd like to get this all out of the way so I can keep up with the upcoming assignments. As I tell my students, we don't want to get behind; we want to work ahead. My problem is that my work is contingent on their work--if they don't get their assignments in on time, I can't grade them quickly. I spend too much time backtracking. Of course, the alternative is to just give them zeros and go on--not an unusual or unfair idea!
And today is my son's 27th birthday. How did he get so old? I can remember when he was a baby, and that doesn't seem so long ago. I'm curious about his new girlfriend--I haven't met her. I think I need to take a trip to Austin soon and check her out. Of course, I'm not that old! How great that my kids age and I don't!
Oops--minor interruption here--I had to grab Golem and throw him out; he brought in a bird he caught; and I've lost my glasses--I don't know where I put them down while I was chasing the cat around the house. D&%* cats! So now I need to go back over every place I chased the cat and see if I dropped the glasses on the floor before I step on them.
This has been a loooong week. And it's about to get longer. I have papers coming in from all of my classes, as well as their weekly work. How did that happen? Of course, in my defense, I gave one class an extension on their papers because they just couldn't get them together. I probably won't get these back too quickly, though I pride myself on turning work around quickly. But I'd like to get this all out of the way so I can keep up with the upcoming assignments. As I tell my students, we don't want to get behind; we want to work ahead. My problem is that my work is contingent on their work--if they don't get their assignments in on time, I can't grade them quickly. I spend too much time backtracking. Of course, the alternative is to just give them zeros and go on--not an unusual or unfair idea!
Saturday, September 15, 2007
I Need to Stop...
...and smell the coffee!
I got up this morning (Saturday) around 9am (in my defense, I was up until 1am answering students' questions/responding to their issues). After a detour to the bathroom, I went into the kitchen to start the coffee. Of course, that's the cue for my cats to make their demands. For one, I turn on the faucet; for another, I open the cat food bucket; for the rest, I add "fresh" food to the food bowls--a little, or a lot, makes no difference. The top layer has to be "new." So, my need for coffee took a back seat to their needs to be catered to.
Yeah, I know. It's my fault. Really, I don't mind it. At least I don't have to send them through college and help pay their student loans! A new bag of cat food every two weeks and clean water are small prices to pay for their affection.
But that's not the only reason I'm posting here today. As soon as I started the coffee, I came into my study and turned on the computer. That's become almost a reflex for me these days. Get up, take care of the cats, make the coffee, turn on the computer. I actually had to MAKE myself sit down in the living room with a cup of coffee and watch the news, or I would have been on the computer at 9:15am.
I really do have a life--somewhere. I need to go to the store, to wash clothes, to sweep, mop, vacuum, clean the bathroom, mow the grass, and, yet, I find myself, because of the work that I do, spending hours on the computer; I look up, the sun has gone down, my fingers, wrists and neck hurt from the constant typing, and I reach for the aspirin.
This morning, after I forced myself to stay away from the computer, I opened the front door to let the cats out and realized that the air was dry and crisp; I grabbed my cup of coffee and sat on the front porch for about an hour. It was the best thing I could do for myself.
Yes, I have a great deal to do, but I also have an obligation to my own well-being to stop once in a while. Life is more than work, or school, or talking on the telephone. Life is breathing and taking time to see. I need to do this more often.
I got up this morning (Saturday) around 9am (in my defense, I was up until 1am answering students' questions/responding to their issues). After a detour to the bathroom, I went into the kitchen to start the coffee. Of course, that's the cue for my cats to make their demands. For one, I turn on the faucet; for another, I open the cat food bucket; for the rest, I add "fresh" food to the food bowls--a little, or a lot, makes no difference. The top layer has to be "new." So, my need for coffee took a back seat to their needs to be catered to.
Yeah, I know. It's my fault. Really, I don't mind it. At least I don't have to send them through college and help pay their student loans! A new bag of cat food every two weeks and clean water are small prices to pay for their affection.
But that's not the only reason I'm posting here today. As soon as I started the coffee, I came into my study and turned on the computer. That's become almost a reflex for me these days. Get up, take care of the cats, make the coffee, turn on the computer. I actually had to MAKE myself sit down in the living room with a cup of coffee and watch the news, or I would have been on the computer at 9:15am.
I really do have a life--somewhere. I need to go to the store, to wash clothes, to sweep, mop, vacuum, clean the bathroom, mow the grass, and, yet, I find myself, because of the work that I do, spending hours on the computer; I look up, the sun has gone down, my fingers, wrists and neck hurt from the constant typing, and I reach for the aspirin.
This morning, after I forced myself to stay away from the computer, I opened the front door to let the cats out and realized that the air was dry and crisp; I grabbed my cup of coffee and sat on the front porch for about an hour. It was the best thing I could do for myself.
Yes, I have a great deal to do, but I also have an obligation to my own well-being to stop once in a while. Life is more than work, or school, or talking on the telephone. Life is breathing and taking time to see. I need to do this more often.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
More about the @#$% Cats in My House
As most people know, right now, I have five cats: Callie, a calico, is the oldest; Boudreaux, a large black shorthair, was, at one time, my son's cat, but he's mine now; Buddy, a sweet black and white shorthair, is my "puppy cat." He follows me around; Bubba, mostly black with white, is what I call a "tuxedo" cat; and Golem, a beautiful gray and white cat, came to me from a professor at the college where I work (I'm a rescuer--I have a hard time saying "no." But I'm getting better--five is enough).
My cats have distinct personalities and quirks. Callie likes to drink out of the faucet; Boudreaux, as large as he is, runs away from anything remotely scary; Buddy and Bubba are mostly fearless, but like to sleep cuddled up next to me at night; Golem wants to eat directly from the food bucket--no cat bowls for him.
I usually leave my back door opened just a crack for them to go in and out when I am home. I get annoyed when I have to get up a hundred times a day to let them in or out. The open back door has worked since I moved in, until the last two or three weeks. All of a sudden, they want to go out the front door. They'll come in via the back door, but they've stopped going out that way, mostly. I couldn't figure it out. Until now.
We have a little stray gray and white cat that's been hanging around since last year. I never knew the sex of the cat, but I suspected it was female. It would get really fat, then show up skinny. Pregnancy, of course. This cat eats from the cat dish on the dryer in the laundry room, which is right out the back kitchen door.
Two nights ago, I went into the laundry room to put food in the bowl. In my peripheral vision, I thought I saw something move. At first, I thought the possum had returned and was lurking behind the washer, but, when I turned on the light, I saw a tiny, tiny gray and white kitten wobbling on the floor. I almost stepped on it!
It's cute, but will probably grow up feral if I don't grab it quick and tame it. But, right now, it's too small to take away from its mother--Buddy was about three or four weeks old when my neighbor gave him to me, and he suffers from separation anxiety. I am his mother, as far as he's concerned. So I don't want to create another "clingy" cat. But if I wait too long, the kitten will end up hanging around my house, hissing at me when I pass. It's a dilemma, for sure.
Well, that explains why my cats won't go the back door. They watch for the mother cat to leave, though, and dash in through the back door when she goes. They haven't bothered the kitten, but they are curious about it. I'm keeping an eye on everybody so they don't kill the baby. If the baby gets killed, the mother will go back into heat, and we'll have cat fights all over the neighborhood, and, of course, more kittens. I'd like to tame the mother and get her fixed, but I don't think that's going to happen.
My cats have distinct personalities and quirks. Callie likes to drink out of the faucet; Boudreaux, as large as he is, runs away from anything remotely scary; Buddy and Bubba are mostly fearless, but like to sleep cuddled up next to me at night; Golem wants to eat directly from the food bucket--no cat bowls for him.
I usually leave my back door opened just a crack for them to go in and out when I am home. I get annoyed when I have to get up a hundred times a day to let them in or out. The open back door has worked since I moved in, until the last two or three weeks. All of a sudden, they want to go out the front door. They'll come in via the back door, but they've stopped going out that way, mostly. I couldn't figure it out. Until now.
We have a little stray gray and white cat that's been hanging around since last year. I never knew the sex of the cat, but I suspected it was female. It would get really fat, then show up skinny. Pregnancy, of course. This cat eats from the cat dish on the dryer in the laundry room, which is right out the back kitchen door.
Two nights ago, I went into the laundry room to put food in the bowl. In my peripheral vision, I thought I saw something move. At first, I thought the possum had returned and was lurking behind the washer, but, when I turned on the light, I saw a tiny, tiny gray and white kitten wobbling on the floor. I almost stepped on it!
It's cute, but will probably grow up feral if I don't grab it quick and tame it. But, right now, it's too small to take away from its mother--Buddy was about three or four weeks old when my neighbor gave him to me, and he suffers from separation anxiety. I am his mother, as far as he's concerned. So I don't want to create another "clingy" cat. But if I wait too long, the kitten will end up hanging around my house, hissing at me when I pass. It's a dilemma, for sure.
Well, that explains why my cats won't go the back door. They watch for the mother cat to leave, though, and dash in through the back door when she goes. They haven't bothered the kitten, but they are curious about it. I'm keeping an eye on everybody so they don't kill the baby. If the baby gets killed, the mother will go back into heat, and we'll have cat fights all over the neighborhood, and, of course, more kittens. I'd like to tame the mother and get her fixed, but I don't think that's going to happen.
Monday, September 03, 2007
On Not Laboring
Is there such a thing? Though this is Labor Day, and I'd like to totally goof off, I can't do it. I've been checking email and my course sites for problems, questions and posts.
On the flip side, I've managed to do all of this while watching The Closer marathon on TNT, culminating tonight in the next-to-last episode of the season. So, I can work and enjoy myself at the same time!
I'm still reeling from the story I saw earlier this week about the mother who let her five-year-old son drive her car. Her three-year-old son was in the back seat, not strapped in; the only person buckled in was the mother, who, sitting in the front passenger seat, was too impaired to drive. When police questioned her about it, she said that he was "a good driver." Yeah. So are my cats!
I know I'm not the only person appalled at this story because the newscasters relaying the story could hardly hide their own bemusement/incredulity/outrage.
What was this person thinking? I'm not surprised her children were put in foster care; I only hope that, when/if she ever gets out of jail, she doesn't get them back immediately. Believe me--I think children need their parents, but, if those parents are impaired (or just plain stupid), the children's best interests need to outweigh the parent/child bond. I hope this woman gets major counseling, or, alternately, a long prison sentence for child endangerment.
Okay, so that's my soapbox for today. Not much else is happening besides the first week of class. Having a holiday a week into the semester throws me off some. I'm afraid I'm going to think tomorrow is Monday and not get up when I need to! I have the clock set for 6am, but my biggest fear is that I will forget to set the alarm. It's happened--not lately--but it has happened. I will be a wreck before I go to bed--almost OCD--making sure I have everything ready to go in the morning.
On the flip side, I've managed to do all of this while watching The Closer marathon on TNT, culminating tonight in the next-to-last episode of the season. So, I can work and enjoy myself at the same time!
I'm still reeling from the story I saw earlier this week about the mother who let her five-year-old son drive her car. Her three-year-old son was in the back seat, not strapped in; the only person buckled in was the mother, who, sitting in the front passenger seat, was too impaired to drive. When police questioned her about it, she said that he was "a good driver." Yeah. So are my cats!
I know I'm not the only person appalled at this story because the newscasters relaying the story could hardly hide their own bemusement/incredulity/outrage.
What was this person thinking? I'm not surprised her children were put in foster care; I only hope that, when/if she ever gets out of jail, she doesn't get them back immediately. Believe me--I think children need their parents, but, if those parents are impaired (or just plain stupid), the children's best interests need to outweigh the parent/child bond. I hope this woman gets major counseling, or, alternately, a long prison sentence for child endangerment.
Okay, so that's my soapbox for today. Not much else is happening besides the first week of class. Having a holiday a week into the semester throws me off some. I'm afraid I'm going to think tomorrow is Monday and not get up when I need to! I have the clock set for 6am, but my biggest fear is that I will forget to set the alarm. It's happened--not lately--but it has happened. I will be a wreck before I go to bed--almost OCD--making sure I have everything ready to go in the morning.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
And Your Bird Can Sing...
but not anymore. Sadly, my cockatiel, Ophelia, died today. He (yes, he had a female name) just suddenly got sick and passed on. I buried him in the Perriwinkle flower bed.
My son and I bought Ophelia for about $35, oh, probably 15 years ago (or maybe longer; I don't remember). The person who sold him to us told us he was female, but female cockatiels have less flashy coloring than males. Imagine our surprise when Ophelia developed the orange circles on his yellow head--he looked as though he put on too much rouge.
My daughter taught him to wolf whistle, which lifted my spirits considerably. Every time I'd come into view, he'd whistle. He developed a game--he'd whistle a certain pattern and expect me to repeat it back to him. If I didn't do it exactly right, he'd screech at me, then whistle, then screech--well, you get the idea! Dorothy also taught him to say "Pretty bird" and "I love you." After a while, he began to put the two together: "I love you pretty bird," or "I love you bird." The cats liked to sit next to his cage--after I used the water spray on them, they stopped attacking the cage. When the cats would sit next to him, Ophelia would talk non-stop until they left. I think that confused the cats. The birds outside don't talk.
We used to have a dachsund named Oscar. Oscar and Ophelia developed a close relationship, so much so that Ophelia used to call Oscar when he wanted a visit from the dog. I'd have to pick Oscar up and hold him next to the cage.
Ophelia was an excellent "watchbird," a trait he shared with geese. Whenever he saw or sensed a person around the house (birds have excellent hearing, after all), he would screech loudly. He also used to scream if he heard sirens.
I'm a bit unsettled. After losing Judas, one of my older cats, and then Ophelia, I'm a bit undone. Yes, they are "only" pets, but I had special relationships with both of them. They have been steady, dependable companions, and their loss is difficult.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Let the Madness Begin...
Classes begin in five (count 'em-5) days! Where has the summer gone?
I guess teaching summer school for two months does eat into spare time, as do grading papers and driving 90 miles every day. But the class was good, not stressful at all; I had a wonderfully small class of students who wrote well and were funny, too. So that made the time pass quickly.
This semester, I have four classes--one Intro to Fiction (with 35 students), two Advanced Comps (one of those online--each class has 20 students), and a new class, Writing in the Humanities (this one has 13 people so far). In addition, I'll be teaching an intro knitting class for Continuing Ed for six weeks; that just provides me an excuse to knit and talk about knitting for two hours! It's built-in relaxation for me, a good reason to begin new projects, buy more yarn, and escape from academe for a while. I forsee, however, long days. The good news? I have a semester of three-day weekends again!
I mowed the grass this morning. It's so dry that I may not have to do this again for a couple of weeks, unless we get some rain (I'm not holding my breath!). I complained (sort of) about all the rain at the beginning of the summer, but everything is dry and dusty now. My garden has suffered greatly--first from an excess of moisture, then from its absence. But isn't that nature's way? Always the extreme!
Even the cats feel the heat; they spend most of their time inside (I keep having to clean the litter boxes--they've got an entire acre for a litter box, but they still come inside to do their business!). I would think they'd be out chasing the neighbor's chickens, but even that's not enough to tempt them right now. I can't blame them. I don't even like to go out to get the mail until the sun goes down.
I guess teaching summer school for two months does eat into spare time, as do grading papers and driving 90 miles every day. But the class was good, not stressful at all; I had a wonderfully small class of students who wrote well and were funny, too. So that made the time pass quickly.
This semester, I have four classes--one Intro to Fiction (with 35 students), two Advanced Comps (one of those online--each class has 20 students), and a new class, Writing in the Humanities (this one has 13 people so far). In addition, I'll be teaching an intro knitting class for Continuing Ed for six weeks; that just provides me an excuse to knit and talk about knitting for two hours! It's built-in relaxation for me, a good reason to begin new projects, buy more yarn, and escape from academe for a while. I forsee, however, long days. The good news? I have a semester of three-day weekends again!
I mowed the grass this morning. It's so dry that I may not have to do this again for a couple of weeks, unless we get some rain (I'm not holding my breath!). I complained (sort of) about all the rain at the beginning of the summer, but everything is dry and dusty now. My garden has suffered greatly--first from an excess of moisture, then from its absence. But isn't that nature's way? Always the extreme!
Even the cats feel the heat; they spend most of their time inside (I keep having to clean the litter boxes--they've got an entire acre for a litter box, but they still come inside to do their business!). I would think they'd be out chasing the neighbor's chickens, but even that's not enough to tempt them right now. I can't blame them. I don't even like to go out to get the mail until the sun goes down.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
I Finally Did It!
Two socket sets and almost as many weeks later, I managed to finally change the oil in my riding lawn mower. I banged up my hand trying it, but was amazed to discover how important the right tool is for accomplishing a task. Once I had the right socket and a ratchet extender, getting the oil drain plug off was a cinch! Now that's done, and I can wait for a while before I do this again. And, of course, I mowed the entire lawn. Hooray for me! My house seemed neglected with the tall grass. While I'm not the best mower, I did manage to get the grass down to a manageable height.
So, what else is new? Not much. The summer semester finished up on August 1st, and I've already posted my grades. Now I need to organize and post materials for my fall classes. Looks like all of them will make, but I'm a bit worried. I have one new course that has 11 people in it; I'm hoping that's enough. I don't want to have to scramble to create a new course right before the semester begins.
I think I only slept about five hours last night, so I may have to take a nap. I was reading, and, when I looked at the clock, I was shocked to see the time was 4am. I often lose track of time when I read. I woke up this morning around 9:30am, drank a cup of coffee, and started on the yard. The time now is about 1pm; I'm beginning to feel sleepy. So, yeah, a nap is in order, followed by intense work on my fall classes.
So, what else is new? Not much. The summer semester finished up on August 1st, and I've already posted my grades. Now I need to organize and post materials for my fall classes. Looks like all of them will make, but I'm a bit worried. I have one new course that has 11 people in it; I'm hoping that's enough. I don't want to have to scramble to create a new course right before the semester begins.
I think I only slept about five hours last night, so I may have to take a nap. I was reading, and, when I looked at the clock, I was shocked to see the time was 4am. I often lose track of time when I read. I woke up this morning around 9:30am, drank a cup of coffee, and started on the yard. The time now is about 1pm; I'm beginning to feel sleepy. So, yeah, a nap is in order, followed by intense work on my fall classes.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
I tried to sleep in...
but my "inner clock" betrayed me! The semester ended yesterday and I promised myself I would sleep late this morning. My body decided otherwise and woke me up at 8am. I stayed up until 2am this morning, and, after meeting my class and working at the bookstore for five hours, I thought I'd be exhausted enough to sleep until lunchtime. But, I guess, since I've been getting up at 7am nearly every day this summer, old habits are hard to break.
The class had an end-of-semester party yesterday (this is the first time I've done such a thing!); if I had known we had so many good cooks, I'd have done it more often! I had fun teaching this summer (though I dreaded it at the beginning of the summer). I had hoped I'd be "off," but I'm glad circumstances conspired against me.
So, maybe I'll take a couple of days off, get my house and yard in order, then work on my fall courses. I'll have three preps in the fall--including one new course and an online writing course--so I have plenty to do. And I'm teaching a knitting class for Continuing Ed. But I don't want to think about that yet. The fall semester will be busy, yes, but I need a break, however short!
The class had an end-of-semester party yesterday (this is the first time I've done such a thing!); if I had known we had so many good cooks, I'd have done it more often! I had fun teaching this summer (though I dreaded it at the beginning of the summer). I had hoped I'd be "off," but I'm glad circumstances conspired against me.
So, maybe I'll take a couple of days off, get my house and yard in order, then work on my fall courses. I'll have three preps in the fall--including one new course and an online writing course--so I have plenty to do. And I'm teaching a knitting class for Continuing Ed. But I don't want to think about that yet. The fall semester will be busy, yes, but I need a break, however short!
Friday, July 27, 2007
The End of the Semester Looms Large...
and, as usually happens about this time, I got a phone call from the bookstore asking me when and how many days I could work next week (which is finals' week, of course!). Since I'm not giving a "final," in the true sense, and since I have until August 6th to turn in grades, I think I can spare a few afternoons to pack books in boxes. Besides, the extra money is good.
So, I'll go in Monday and work for about four or five hours, then maybe I'll go in Wednesday; maybe, if I don't feel like sleeping for two days, I'll go in Thursday or Friday--but I think I'll try to get my grades posted by Thursday. Then, I can run by the school and turn in a printed copy of my grades on Friday and work at the bookstore after that. Sounds like a plan.
My children sent me flowers for my birthday, which was a wonderful surprise, since they've never sent me flowers before. AND they had them delivered to the school (the day after my birthday)! More than made my day special (and the day after, too). I usually celebrate my BD all week, so I don't mind getting a "late" present.
Today I stopped by Mr. Lester's and bought two boxes of peaches. I've made two batches of peach honey--when I use pint jars, one batch only fills up two-and-a-half pint jars. So, I have about five pints. I cut up about four pounds of peaches, though, covered them with sugar, and will use those for peach preserves tomorrow. But I still have one whole box of peaches and about 1/4 of another box. These had just been picked; they are crunchy, almost like apples, so I'm not getting many soft peaches out of these boxes; I think I need to let the rest of them sit for a day or two.
I had pancakes for dinner; I haven't cooked pancakes in years, but, tonight, I just decided I wanted some. That's the best part of living alone--you don't have to worry about cooking for anyone but yourself!
So, I'll go in Monday and work for about four or five hours, then maybe I'll go in Wednesday; maybe, if I don't feel like sleeping for two days, I'll go in Thursday or Friday--but I think I'll try to get my grades posted by Thursday. Then, I can run by the school and turn in a printed copy of my grades on Friday and work at the bookstore after that. Sounds like a plan.
My children sent me flowers for my birthday, which was a wonderful surprise, since they've never sent me flowers before. AND they had them delivered to the school (the day after my birthday)! More than made my day special (and the day after, too). I usually celebrate my BD all week, so I don't mind getting a "late" present.
Today I stopped by Mr. Lester's and bought two boxes of peaches. I've made two batches of peach honey--when I use pint jars, one batch only fills up two-and-a-half pint jars. So, I have about five pints. I cut up about four pounds of peaches, though, covered them with sugar, and will use those for peach preserves tomorrow. But I still have one whole box of peaches and about 1/4 of another box. These had just been picked; they are crunchy, almost like apples, so I'm not getting many soft peaches out of these boxes; I think I need to let the rest of them sit for a day or two.
I had pancakes for dinner; I haven't cooked pancakes in years, but, tonight, I just decided I wanted some. That's the best part of living alone--you don't have to worry about cooking for anyone but yourself!
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
"You Say It's Your Birthday..."
...well, it's my birthday too, yeah!"
So, to celebrate, I took myself to see the latest Harry Potter movie. I met a former student there, and we spent the preview time catching up on what's been happening since we last saw each other. I'm envious; she's spent the summer vacationing--not that I'd want to go to Disneyworld--I actually have no desire to go there. But a vacation would be nice.
Before I say anything about Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, let me preface my remarks with what most of my friends know about me and how I feel about movies made from books. I generally don't like them as representations of the novelists' works. More often than not, a picture is NOT worth a thousand words.
In defense of film, movies do clarify description. Films can dispense with the overwhelming narration needed to describe a location or a person, for example. But the screenwriter has an obligation to treat the writer's plot carefully. If I've learned anything about fiction, I've learned that writers hardly ever tell us something if we don't need to know it. When a screenwriter, alone or in collaboration with a director, leaves out what appear to be tiny, insignificant details, the screewriter changes the context and intention of the writer. And I don't like that.
Having read all of the HP books, my conclusion is that the last three books--Order of the Phoenix, The Half-Blood Prince, and The Deathly Hallows--are a set-piece; they must be read in sequence (and together) because each book builds on the previous one. The small details in book 5, Order, become essential to books 6 & 7: the locket, for example, and Kreacher, the Black Family's house elf. The first four books work well as individual pieces; while they explore and amplify the world of Hogwarts and establish the personalities of the major and minor characters, each of the first four books can be read as complete stories. The last three books, however, form the same sort of trilogy as The Lord of the Rings. Skip from book four to book seven and you miss essential information and important plot points.
In fairness to the director and screenwriter of Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix, it is extremely difficult to shoot a work in progress; at least, when Peter Jackson directed the Rings trilogy, he knew how the story ended. For the Potter series, J. K. Rowling should have had something to say (or should have said more) about what should have been included in the fifth movie. But I don't know that she did; she might not have wanted to leak information about the sixth and seventh books.
The movie is visually stunning. The special effects--the dementors, the interior of the Ministry of Magic, the Room of Requirement--are awe-inspiring and dazzling. But so much of the essential plot is missing from the story that it almost doesn't make sense unless you've read the book. I just found myself becoming more and more agitated that so much had been lost. I filled in the gaps, but the absence of those key points will create problems in the next two films, and I don't know how the directors will overcome them.
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is J. K. Rowling's longest book in the series, yet this movie is the shortest so far. It just doesn't do justice to the epic struggle of the young wizard or his friends. I liked the battle scene at the end, but I just wish it had been longer, as it was in the book; it just didn't seem as important as Rowling meant it to be.
I agree, in part, with my daughter, that, at one point, the movie almost seemed to turn into Star Wars--we all have the dark and the light in us, says Sirius. But I just think that Harry deserves better.
So, to celebrate, I took myself to see the latest Harry Potter movie. I met a former student there, and we spent the preview time catching up on what's been happening since we last saw each other. I'm envious; she's spent the summer vacationing--not that I'd want to go to Disneyworld--I actually have no desire to go there. But a vacation would be nice.
Before I say anything about Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, let me preface my remarks with what most of my friends know about me and how I feel about movies made from books. I generally don't like them as representations of the novelists' works. More often than not, a picture is NOT worth a thousand words.
In defense of film, movies do clarify description. Films can dispense with the overwhelming narration needed to describe a location or a person, for example. But the screenwriter has an obligation to treat the writer's plot carefully. If I've learned anything about fiction, I've learned that writers hardly ever tell us something if we don't need to know it. When a screenwriter, alone or in collaboration with a director, leaves out what appear to be tiny, insignificant details, the screewriter changes the context and intention of the writer. And I don't like that.
Having read all of the HP books, my conclusion is that the last three books--Order of the Phoenix, The Half-Blood Prince, and The Deathly Hallows--are a set-piece; they must be read in sequence (and together) because each book builds on the previous one. The small details in book 5, Order, become essential to books 6 & 7: the locket, for example, and Kreacher, the Black Family's house elf. The first four books work well as individual pieces; while they explore and amplify the world of Hogwarts and establish the personalities of the major and minor characters, each of the first four books can be read as complete stories. The last three books, however, form the same sort of trilogy as The Lord of the Rings. Skip from book four to book seven and you miss essential information and important plot points.
In fairness to the director and screenwriter of Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix, it is extremely difficult to shoot a work in progress; at least, when Peter Jackson directed the Rings trilogy, he knew how the story ended. For the Potter series, J. K. Rowling should have had something to say (or should have said more) about what should have been included in the fifth movie. But I don't know that she did; she might not have wanted to leak information about the sixth and seventh books.
The movie is visually stunning. The special effects--the dementors, the interior of the Ministry of Magic, the Room of Requirement--are awe-inspiring and dazzling. But so much of the essential plot is missing from the story that it almost doesn't make sense unless you've read the book. I just found myself becoming more and more agitated that so much had been lost. I filled in the gaps, but the absence of those key points will create problems in the next two films, and I don't know how the directors will overcome them.
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is J. K. Rowling's longest book in the series, yet this movie is the shortest so far. It just doesn't do justice to the epic struggle of the young wizard or his friends. I liked the battle scene at the end, but I just wish it had been longer, as it was in the book; it just didn't seem as important as Rowling meant it to be.
I agree, in part, with my daughter, that, at one point, the movie almost seemed to turn into Star Wars--we all have the dark and the light in us, says Sirius. But I just think that Harry deserves better.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Another "Harry" Weekend
Well, I've finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, but no spoilers here! All I'll say is that J. K. Rowling made this book as compelling a read as the others. Readers who love Harry's world will not be disappointed in this "final" installment.
I started reading the book at the bookstore Saturday, almost as soon as I got there at 8am. I didn't have much time to read it during my shift, though. People started lining up around 8:30am (we opened at 9am), and we had steady lines throughout the day. Nearly every purchase included at least one copy of the Potter book, but I did get a few Potter-free sales. By the time I left the store, I had read the first four chapters. I had to make a stop at my mom's to drop off two copies of the book for my sister (I bought 5 copies). A trip to my mom's has to include food, so I ate dinner and started for home around 6pm.
I finished reading the book around 3:15am this morning (Sunday), and my reading was not without problems. One of my cats, Boudreaux, startled from his sleep, leapt across the sofa and me in a panic. In his flight, he managed to scratch my arm and the page I was reading. He left a nice little gash in the page and several in me. And, of course, all of the cats seemed to have issues, so they constantly interrupted me--one wanted to drink water from the kitchen tap, one wanted to eat food out of the food container instead of the food bowls (and ended up getting shut up inside the pantry! I thought I had a boggart!), another wanted to go out the front door. Cats have their peculiarites, too.
I have to say I was correct on several hunches that I formed from re-reading the 5th and 6th books, but I'm not going to tell you what they are. If you're not a fan of Harry Potter, you probably don't care, and, if you are a fan, you need to read the last book without knowing what happens.
I told my students that I'd be glad to discuss the book/series in my office with anyone who's interested--and that stands. I hate spoilers, so I'm not going to be one. All I can say is that J. K. Rowling tells a great story and she has managed to create one of the most appealing and enduring worlds in modern literary history--maybe not as complicated as Lord of the Rings or The Chronicles of Narnia, but I think her story will stand the test of time. We'll still be talking about this series long past the last movie's release.
Read it!
I started reading the book at the bookstore Saturday, almost as soon as I got there at 8am. I didn't have much time to read it during my shift, though. People started lining up around 8:30am (we opened at 9am), and we had steady lines throughout the day. Nearly every purchase included at least one copy of the Potter book, but I did get a few Potter-free sales. By the time I left the store, I had read the first four chapters. I had to make a stop at my mom's to drop off two copies of the book for my sister (I bought 5 copies). A trip to my mom's has to include food, so I ate dinner and started for home around 6pm.
I finished reading the book around 3:15am this morning (Sunday), and my reading was not without problems. One of my cats, Boudreaux, startled from his sleep, leapt across the sofa and me in a panic. In his flight, he managed to scratch my arm and the page I was reading. He left a nice little gash in the page and several in me. And, of course, all of the cats seemed to have issues, so they constantly interrupted me--one wanted to drink water from the kitchen tap, one wanted to eat food out of the food container instead of the food bowls (and ended up getting shut up inside the pantry! I thought I had a boggart!), another wanted to go out the front door. Cats have their peculiarites, too.
I have to say I was correct on several hunches that I formed from re-reading the 5th and 6th books, but I'm not going to tell you what they are. If you're not a fan of Harry Potter, you probably don't care, and, if you are a fan, you need to read the last book without knowing what happens.
I told my students that I'd be glad to discuss the book/series in my office with anyone who's interested--and that stands. I hate spoilers, so I'm not going to be one. All I can say is that J. K. Rowling tells a great story and she has managed to create one of the most appealing and enduring worlds in modern literary history--maybe not as complicated as Lord of the Rings or The Chronicles of Narnia, but I think her story will stand the test of time. We'll still be talking about this series long past the last movie's release.
Read it!
Thursday, July 19, 2007
More Car Stuff
The new tires are great. The ride has been smoother, but the noise level has not.
Around Monday of this week, I started hearing a knocking noise. Of course, since I know nothing about cars, I begin to think "brake shoes," "struts," "ball joints," "rod." This only started after the guys installed the new tires, so another logical jump was, "Something's loose around one of the wheels." If I went less than 20 mph, I didn't hear a noise, but, the minute I accelerated, there it was. The noise was incredibly deafening and nerve-wracking.
So, today after class, I took the car back over to Gateway. Turns out, one of the brake shields was loose and knocking about. They fixed it for free (thank you!), and the ride home was so much quieter!
I love technology--cars, lawn mowers, iPods, computers--but I just wish it was easier to deal with. When desktop computers first came out, the user had to do everything. I sometimes wish I still had that level of control. Same with my car. Now that everything runs via computer, one glitch and I'm stuck. I hate being that dependent on strangers; forget Blanche DuBois in "Streetcar Named Desire" ("I have always relied on the kindness of strangers."). It's a nice sentiment, but I'm too suspicious and/or cynical. Most people are not going to help you because they want to. They'll help you if they get something for it. That's not everyone, of course; I know enough to not generalize. But the altruistic person (not to mention, business) is hard to find.
Around Monday of this week, I started hearing a knocking noise. Of course, since I know nothing about cars, I begin to think "brake shoes," "struts," "ball joints," "rod." This only started after the guys installed the new tires, so another logical jump was, "Something's loose around one of the wheels." If I went less than 20 mph, I didn't hear a noise, but, the minute I accelerated, there it was. The noise was incredibly deafening and nerve-wracking.
So, today after class, I took the car back over to Gateway. Turns out, one of the brake shields was loose and knocking about. They fixed it for free (thank you!), and the ride home was so much quieter!
I love technology--cars, lawn mowers, iPods, computers--but I just wish it was easier to deal with. When desktop computers first came out, the user had to do everything. I sometimes wish I still had that level of control. Same with my car. Now that everything runs via computer, one glitch and I'm stuck. I hate being that dependent on strangers; forget Blanche DuBois in "Streetcar Named Desire" ("I have always relied on the kindness of strangers."). It's a nice sentiment, but I'm too suspicious and/or cynical. Most people are not going to help you because they want to. They'll help you if they get something for it. That's not everyone, of course; I know enough to not generalize. But the altruistic person (not to mention, business) is hard to find.
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