Reinforcements arriving...

19 January 2026: Rita and Mike (Mikeeee) arrived here in PA last night. It's been a balm to have them here, not just because it's the first time we've all been together in forever. 

It's always so strangely beautiful to me how much laughter and tears ride side-by-side in times like this. 

Snowy Sunday

18 January 2026:

[Catch-up post...]

Snowed quite a bit up here yesterday, which was pretty until it got scary. The weather these past few months is really going out of its way to mirror folks' inner emotions.

Clueless is on in the background...

17 January 2026: Sitting in a hotel room thinking about everything, everything, everything. 

Doing my best to be here for Vogel. 

It's hard and meaningful work. 

And it's a privilege to do it. 

Dinner with Jeannie...

16 January 2026: Last week, my friend Jeannie and I made plans to get dinner this evening. That was before Brandon died and before I knew I'd be heading up to Philadelphia for a few days to be there for Vogel and for his funeral. 

I almost asked her to reschedule. I have so much to do and I am so emotionally exhausted. 

But I am glad I didn't. We went to Maria's and sat and talked for nearly two hours. When we were done, I told her as much--adding that I would spent those two hours anxious and stressed. 

At home since then, I've been getting stuff done and still feel a bit overwhelmed, I can see it--that I can do this. 

Saying no...

15 January 2026: I found myself saying "no" to work-related questions this week. 

On Tuesday, it was a "will you do this?" question. I realized that it would be too much of a pain and I just didn't want to. So I said, "Yeah, I think I'm saying 'no.'" And the person who asked me--Tim--responded, "Good for you." 

Felt pretty good!

The second was a "can you meet this deadline?" question. And if the end of last semester hadn't been so hard and if I had been able to do more during break, I would have been able to. And if I broke my neck, I might be able to make it still. We'll see. But I told the person who asked me, "No, I don't think I can." "That's okay," she said. "We'll make it work."

I feel more conflicted about this one, but mostly okay. 

Just need a new normal to settle in, but until then, things are just strange and rough.

It'll be okay, though. Day by day.

Tired and grateful...

14 January 2026: Very long and busy day; left the house at 7:00 a.m. and got home just before 9:00 p.m. Struck once again by what a difference kindness makes as you push through those long days. Thinking about specific interactions with students--current and former--that moved me more than I can say.

Grateful, grateful, grateful. 

Brandon...

13 January 2026: The world lost a very good, much loved, and much needed person last night. That's all I can say right now. 

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.