Twelfth Night

8 November 2026: Though I originally thought I'd go next week, I decided to see the Rude Mechanicals' fall production, Twelfth Night, this afternoon. I am glad I did--not just because it was good (the Rudes always put on a good show)--but because it was a nice break from a busy day and kind of made me hit "pause" on my stress button. I know that seems antithetical, but it worked.

Also really love how this version, with a 90s vibe, incorporated music. Some of those songs are like a time machine. 

Day with Carrie...

7 November 2026: For a sad reason (plans with Jane fell through), I ended up spending the day with Carrie. We saw a play (Some Like It Hot: The Musical) at the Olney Theater and then had a nice, long dinner at Alma Bea. 

Got zero work done. And didn't finish my usual Saturday housekeeping work. But it was worth it.

Clueless

6 November 2026: Ended a super-long week with a super-long day. But the end of that day was an SUWP event where we screened Clueless and talked about it as an adaptation of Jane Austen's Emma. The movie is still a delight, though watching it through "2026 eyes" is really something.

Busy day tomorrow, too, but maybe Sunday will bring some rest. 

Shepherd Commons

5 November 2026: This evening, I got to be a part of the first "official" dinner in the new dining hall/athletic building. It's an impressive place...not quite ready to open yet, but it's close.

That's more than a wave...

4 November 2026: Hard to believe that I don't want to go to sleep on election night because I am so happy, not because I am devastated. 

Eyes filling with tears again and again. 

Ordinary people from all over the country saying, "no more." 

Hearing that Susan Collins might have conceded might be what it takes for me to turn in. 

Voted

3 November 2026: If they gave out a medal for "fastest to lose their 'I Voted'" sticker, I would win. Every time. Today, I stuck mine on my shirt as I was to the car from the polling place. Drove to school. Got out of the car. It was gone.

Beyond that...we'll see what happens. Praying, praying, praying for change.

A whole mood...

2 November 2026: Feeling very connected to this guy, who showed up on my Bird Buddy today.

"The Better Part of Bravery"

1 November 2026:

"The only truth that can remain
The better part of bravery
Is in the letting go" 

Wildwood is astonishing. 

Halloween 2026

31 October 2026: Dug out some of Bing and Wes's old gear for Annie and Jo. (Annie was much more compliant and, as I write this, still has hers on.)

And then, what a delight to see Theo (and his family) a little later!

Investiture Day!

30 October 2026: Perfect day to celebrate President Wesson!

Providence...

29 October 2026: Attended a really lovely reception this evening for President Wesson on the eve of his official investiture ceremony. In some brief remarks, he shared that he believes in divine providence--that he's come to Shepherd as part of that plan. Boy, does that feel right. 

Late October sunset...

28 October 2026: 

Snapped this after a stop at Kohl's on my way to Wednesday trivia. Picture doesn't do it justice.

Take the motivation where you can get it...

27 October 2026: I am working on a writing project right now that is so boring and strange that I am not enjoying it at all. (It's a paid gig--and good money, so that's why I am doing it.) Right now, though, I am deciding to think about how good it will feel to have it done and using that as motivation. Let's hope it works!

"After Words"

26 October 2026: 

"I stood at the door and flashed
on a day the week before
he died, when I asked him
what was he living for, really, what
was left for him?, a question borne
of bone-deep exhaustion and fear." --Kelly Beard, "After Words"

There's been a kind of gloominess hovering over me these last few days. Lots of strange dreams and thoughts about my parents. Guilt and sadness on a loop. 

Nothing dire; I'm okay. It's just there.

Beard's poem, which is new to me, and the little "About This Poem" segment, found me welling up here in my office this morning. Grateful for this moment. 

Caroline

25 October 2026: "Carefully, Caroline closed the Bible around the splinter and slipped it back into the trunk. She felt the way she had felt when her brother died, and when her children were born. Open, so that everything reached straight through to her heart. Entirely conscious of the current of life coursing through her. Until this day, she hadn't noticed the concordant notes between the two. This was the feeling that came over her each time the veil between this world and the next was lifted" (Miller 329).

This morning, I finished Caroline, my book club's selection for this month. I am not quite sure what I think about it, but this passage felt true to me. It's how I've felt over this last year: kind of cracked open to life, death, pain, joy...like a live nerve. 

Work Cited

Miller, Sarah. Caroline: Little House, Revisited. William Morrow, 2018.