"each wind is self-registering..."

10 July 2026: "The wind-driven rain had carved ruler-straight ridges behind each pebble, from which he could read the precise direction of the storm. 'All this is perfectly distinct to an observant eye,' he wrote, 'and yet could easily pass unnoticed by most. Thus each wind is self-registering.' With this he closed his Journal, his great monument to self-registration, forever" (Walls 493).

Finished the Thoreau biography this morning in the waiting room of the walk-in clinic. I think being in public prevented me from getting too teary as it closed out. 

Amazing life. Amazing book. 

(Finally decided to get this crud looked at. The verdict is something viral. Got a nasal spray and steroids.) 

Work Cited

Walls, Laura Dassow. Henry David Thoreau: A Life. The U of Chicago P, 2017.

Cold Case

9 July 2026: Yesterday I discovered that a network I didn't even know I had is showing a block of Cold Case episodes every afternoon. 

This is very good news: I really liked this procedural in my grad school days--Rita and Vogel used to come over to my apartment to watch it. We'd cook dinner and everything. And I remember some of these episodes so well. (We'd also play a game where you had to guess the killer before the last act break.)

It's also potentially very bad news, maybe distracting me from my work. Ha.

Anyway, an episode started today that I instantly remembered, including that Jason Dohring, who I loved so much on Veronica Mars, was in it. And man--rewatching this? You see everything in that performance that you would later see in Logan Echolls.

In fact, I was just thinking that when a graphic popped up...

Okay, StartTV...why is your programmer targeting me this way? 

"How swiftly, at last, but unnoticed..."

8 July 2026: In 1859, shortly after his father died, Thoreau wrote to a friend, "How swiftly, at last, but unnoticed, a generation passes away!" (qtd in. Walls 437).

Once again, this biography reveals a Thoreau whose life and words stretch through time, touching this moment. As I work to clean up and clean out the my parents' Martinsburg house, they are especially poignant and well-timed. 

Less than thirty pages left and I find myself sad that I'll be done soon...

Work Cited

Walls, Laura Dassow. Henry David Thoreau: A Life. The U of Chicago P, 2017.

His favorite spot...

7 July 2026: Thinking about something I learned today from someone who knew my dad. Something that changed--just a bit--how I feel about a subject that he and I really disagreed about. I know I am being vague, but it's enough to say that I am grateful for that insight. 

Progress...

6 July 2026: I've got a weird little summer cold--not ideal--but I tried not to let it slow me down today. Again, I feel the need to get as ahead on everything as I can, especially in a week with no travel and not a long on my calendar. 

So, it felt good to make a lot of progress on my ENGL 301 course prep, some work for Studies in American Humor, and on closing out our Department of Education grant. That last one feels really good. Cannot wait for that all to be done.

Also have a fresh manuscript for McFarland to look over (in my role as Associate Editor of the series). I'll really dive into that tomorrow.

As I type so often, bit by bit...

Sundays with Henry, Veronica, and Jo...

5 July 2026: 

"When Min, a Maltese kitten, joined the household, her wild freaks delighted him and he played with her by the hour, pausing to shake his head in his Journal: 'What sort of philosophers are we, who know nothing of the origin and destiny of cats?'" (Walls 283).

Still working my way through Walls' biography of Thoreau, seeing connections--both profound and silly--on every page. 

Work Cited

Walls, Laura Dassow. Henry David Thoreau: A Life. The U of Chicago P, 2017.

250th...

4 July 2026: Spent the day with some of my favorite people. Home by late afternon just in time for some big storms to roll through and break the heat. Nice to have the windows open after days...

Culture Gabfest

3 July 2026: A few years ago, I started to wonder about what it would be like if/when podcasts I've been listening to for well over a decade end. It's like a pale version of imagining the end of a "real-life" relationship. I don't even want to type of the names of some these...like it would releasing bad mojo.

Anyway, I listened to the final Slate Culture Gabfest episode on my walk this morning. I can still remember where I was walking when I heard certain segments over the years. Today I thought about their discussion of Big Night in the early days of the pandemic, with a clear memory of turning onto Hensel Drive on hte final loop home.  

Sad to see it end and grateful all the years of content and conversation. 

I'll miss them.

Paperwork days...

2 July 2026: A couple of "paperwork days" have me feeling a bit caught up and crossing some big items off of my lists. I still feel behind, especially with course prep, but day like these (and a heatwave keeping me inside by late morning) are helping with that. 

Strange summer, to put it mildly, but anything I can do now to stay on task or even get ahead will be such a relief...

"All I Want"

1 July 2026: I've always really liked this one and get swept away by that last reprise of the chorus, wrapped around new lines:

"And it feels so close (All I want is to feel this way)

Let it take me in (Be this close, feel the same)

Let it hold me so (All I want is to feel this way)

I can feel it say (Evening speaks, feel it say)"

90s nostalgia, for better or worse, hitting me really hard these days.

"in the midst of human stories, God reveals himself"

30 June 2026: Quite moved by Pope Leo's comments here.

"Leo also explained that writing, as a human exercise, ultimately leads to God.

'When we delve into the very depths of our humanity, we are not far from God; for there, in the midst of very human stories, God reveals himself,' Leo said."

That's it, right? That's the beauty and power and the point of it all. 

"Hot Pants Rain Dance"

29 June 2026: Sitting here now watching the Bob's Burgers episode "Paraders of the Lost Float" This one never jumped out at me before, but tonight I am loving how it's ultimately about embracing joy and fun when it comes to us. "Hot Pants Rain Dance" epitomizes this vibe, of course--a vibe that I welcome this evening. 

Strange, silly, but ultimately true that this show has gotten me through so much hard stuff. 

"Nature is not yours until you are more hers"

28 June 2026: Still working my way through Laura Dassow Walls's biography of Thoreau. The section on Margaret Fuller's death provides moving details that I didn't know before (some of them disturbing). Walls concludes that section with an idea that really struck me: 

"Once again harrowed by tragedy, Thoreau turned not away from the things of nature, but towards them, voicing again his awe before the fundamental strangeness of materiality. Nature is not yours until you are more hers: that sympathy had been part of Fuller's legacy to him" (294).

Work Cited

Walls, Laura Dassow. Henry David Thoreau: A Life. The U of Chicago P, 2017.

"Boulder to Birmingham" (Live)

27 June 2026: On my drive back to WV today, this version of "Boulder to Birmingham," one I had never heard before, really moved me. And made me think of my dad.

Three nights of dinner...

26 June 2026: 

[Catch-up post]

Every night that I was in New York, Chris, Jen, and Aidan invited me to join them for dinner. Twice, they cooked. And on Friday night, they took me to "Food Truck Fridays" at a local park. 

(I think I type the next seven words all the time, but here it goes again...) So much is so hard right now, but I am blessed beyond measure that my brother and his family are sources of light and literal and figurative sustenance.