First day sunrise...

12 January 2026: It's not the best picture, but believe me: when I looked out the kitchen window this morning and saw this color in the sky, I said, "Heavens!" out loud (like a 19th-c. woman!).

It was a good first day of classes--hectic and busy, but good. I was, perhaps inevitably, still in my office when the sky turned another brilliant shade as the sun went down. But still, a good day.

Krista's first Shakespeare...

11 January 2026: For part of her Christmas gift, I got tickets for us to see Macbeth in Frederick (along with an annotated copy of the play). She was completely prepared and enrapt. I think she might be too smart? 

After we met up with Erin, Eric, and Isla for dinner. (Erin took the picture.)

Another pretty good day!

Anaconda

10 January 2025: I am glad I heard the Pop Culture Happy Hour episode about Anaconda, where the panelists were pretty enthuastic about it being silly, dumb fun. They were absolutely right. It was a fun way to spend 90-something minutes and I laughed a lot. 

A moment of delight...

9 January 2026: It hit me this morning on my walk, right by the Shepherdstown Train Station: the Pop Culture Happy Hour "core four" were talking about their 2025 resolutions and it was just so silly and fun. I felt myself smiling and giggling. And there it was: pure delight and happiness. A lightness and even joy. 

This isn't to say I haven't feel delight and happiness in the couple of months, but this particular strain? This particular combination of circumstances (a sunny day, a good walk, podcasters who feel like old friends, and silly laugh)? Just lovely to feel and recognize it. 

Lovely way to say (almost) hello to the new semester. 

Just about ready...

8 January 2026: Will never not love the look of a completed checklist. 

Back in The Pitt...

7 January 2026: In preparation for Season 2 dropping tomorrow, I am rewatching Season One of The Pitt. Just as with the first watch, this show--somehow--gives me such comfort and hope. Decent, compentent people who care and do their best. Everything is so dark right now--a violent, reckless government with so much blood on its hands--and helplessness and hopelessness are right there, calling us towards them. Art like this show, though, reminds us of the light. 

"Elephant"

6 January 2026: Traditionally, I listen to New Yorker Fiction Podcast episodes while putting up and taking down the Christmas lights. I don't think I did in November when I put them up for this season, but that was a surreal afternoon. Regardless, I kept the tradition today when the lights came down, listening to Miriam Toews read Raymond Carver's "Elephant." 

What an interesting story this one is! It made me laugh and feel stressed. And then it takes a beautiful turn. And, like everything lately, it made me think of my dad. 

Syllabus pieces...

5 January 2026: For the first time in my career, I am teaching a class on (just) American women writers--ENGL 407, a seminar. Early on, I decided to focus on short stories. But my planning got behind schedule (even in my head, where I do a lot of planning) with my dad's illness and death. When I thought about the class--tried to plan it in my head--all that showed up was stress and anxiety about planning it.

About ten days ago, I sat down, went through my book, and made a big list of every story I might include. Then I took a stack of old business cards (that they gave me when I was on the Foundation board of directors) and wrote a story on the back of each one. Laid them out on my desk and started moving pieces, making piles, messing with categories. 

Here's the photo evidence of that stack--the thing that really got the process going. I think it's a cool artifact, a reminder that syllabus writing is writing. Revising, moving things around, deleting, adding...

The folded pieces are category names--which also shifted and changed. The stack with the green clip are the "bonus" stories--pieces not on the syllabus, but each student will need to pick one to write about and respond to in a short paper.  

Eventually, the process worked--or worked well enough. Schedule is crafted. Syllabus is done. Feels pretty good. 

Three years...

4 January 2025: Hard to believe Jo March came home three years ago today. She is still so playful (and bad), fun, sweet, and cuddly. She has been such a blessing ever since. She and Veronica keep me grounded and bring me happiness when I need it. 

Just like that day three years ago, she remains hard to photograph at times--unless she's planning a pounce or feeling really sleepy. The photo below is evidence of the latter. 

Jane Time

3 January 2026: Hung out with Jane for the first time since June. We made candles, had lunch, exchanged both birthday and Christmas gifts, and just had a great time.

The Housemaid

2 January 2026: In another step/stumble towards normalcy, saw this fun, silly movie today and enjoyed it quite a bit. 

2026...

1 January 2026: Very quiet New Year's Day, but I can't complain about that. Spending lots of time with my girl.

I can complain about the word Merriam-Webster gave me, though. I keep joking that it better only be in reference to how my enemies are feeling.

Donut Drop!

31 December 2025: Carrie, James, and Charlotte invited me to join them at the Hagerstown Donut Drop this evening. I hadn't been before and now that they are holding it at the minor league ballpark, it is so completely up my alley. Free donuts? Getting to walk on the field? Fireworks? And the drop happens at 7:00 (home before 9)? Sign me up. 

Tuesday evening mood...

30 December 2025: Heading to trivia in a bit. It's cold out there and I am really not feeling like going. Worked in my office (still so cold!) most of the day and made some good progress. Now, being home, I just want to stay put.

I say this knowing that when I get there, I will have a good time and be grateful to see everyone. 

This is, I think, a symptom of this strange time of year. Connected to that, last week's game seems ages ago. Time feels extra broken every year during this week. Winter weather and early darkness just makes it harder.

Still, in about 40 minutes, I'll put on my coat, get in the car, and drive on over to Rumsey (where it's actually always a bit warm). And for a couple of hours, things will be just fine. 

Day at the office...

29 December 2025: Got to campus just after 8:00 and got home just after 4:00. Along the way, I took a walk and ran to Sheetz for lunch, but otherwise, I just hunkered down and got stuff done. 

It's always a bit darkly hilarious that campus is low-key hostile this time of year. The heat is turned way down and it's a ghost town. I always feel like I am channeling my inner Bob Cratchit, wishing for a bit more coal in the stove. 

Made decent progress on some fronts, but not as much as I would have liked on others. 

Will do it all over again tomorrow. 

Still, as I count the days left until things start up again, I think I've got this.