American Rambler

31 May 2026: In American Rambler, which I am really enjoying about 100 pages in, Isaac Fitzgerald writes some lines that I could not more heartily co-sign. Writing about attending Easter services at a Swedenborgian church and thinking about the parishoners, he explains, "That devotion is something that still perplexes me--unless it's a devotion to art, or my friends, or walking. But in a way, as I grow older, I'm beginning to realize that it may all be the same thing, and that's enough."

Also appropriate musings for today, both Whitman's birthday and what would have been (well, still is) my parents' 56th anniversary.

Work Cited

Fitzgerald, Isaac. American Rambler: Walking the Trail of Johnny Appleseed. Knopf, 2026.

Finishing The Master

30 May 2026: I hadn't planned to, but last night I found myself finishing The Master. Echoing the pace and style of his subject, Tóibín's prose makes a reader take their time; you literally can't dash through these pages. To be clear, this is a feature, not a bug. 

So when I picked the book up last night with about eighty pages to go, I thought I would maybe get through forty. But I was so quietly captivated by it that I just kept going. 

I think I'll think about this one for a while: Henry's push-and-pull between the social and the individual, his quietly torturous repression, and his devotion to his work. None of these are easy to describe or classify. And all of that makes perfect sense to me.  

Three books...

29 May 2026: Working my way through three different "for fun" books, which I can't remember doing before: American Rambler (for my book club), that Thoreau biography, and The Master (those last two from my bedside table piles). 

My dad did this all the time. I can't say I saw the appeal--dividing my attention like that. But now that I have the time to do it (and am making the time to do it), I get it. Like, of course it's great. 

I didn't set out to do this as a little tribute to him, but I like that it is turning out to be--and I hope it's a habit I keep up (or at least, reading more than one book at a time).

Uncle Joe

28 May 2026: My Uncle Joe passed away today. It's been, quiet simply, a brutal six months in my family. 

Thinking tonight about all the fun times I had at his house, how handsome I always thought he was, and how the one time I ever rode a motorcycle, he was driving it and I had my arms around his waist so tight at first but then relaxed and felt both safe and exhilarated. 

5001

27 May 2026: So I just noticed that Blogger is saying this is post #5001, which is kind of wild. Been at this since 2007 and posting daily since 2016. 

Seems like that's enough for a post today--at least once I add a little groove: this song that's been in my head since I heard it on an episode if Ponies (which is a very fun show).

The Master

26 May 2026: Working my way through another book that has sat on a bedside table for nearly a decade: Colm Tóibín's The Master. Beautiful and haunting prose throughout so far. This passage stuck with me today, as Tóibín's fictionalized version of Henry James remembers meeting a wounded Civil War soldier at a Union hospital camp: 

"He wanted to hold his young frined, help him now that the worst was over, take him home to his family to be looked after. But he also know that, as much as he wanted to aid and console the soldier, he wanted to be alone in his room with the night coming down and a book close by and pen and paper and the knowledge that the door would remain shut until the morning came and he would not be disturbed. The gap between the two desires filled him with sadness and awe at the mystery of the self, the mystery of having a single consciousness, knowing merely its own bare feelings and experiencing singly and alone its own pain or fear or pleasure or complacency" (166-7).

Work Cited

Tóibín, Colm. The Master: A Novel. Scribner, 2004.

Memorial Day 2026

25 May 2026: Had a really wonderful time spending the day in Rockville with Tim, Kevin, and Amy. We watched the parade (so cool and diverse!) had lunch and then just talked and laughed. Awesome day. 

I Love Boosters

24 May 2026: A lot about this current cultural moment is awful and frustrating, but it really is a gift to get to watch a Boots Riley movie. I Love Boosters is a fun ride with a big swing of hope at the end. I'll happily take it. 

Lisa and Shelby

23 May 2026: Two highlights from today: 1) Lunch with Lisa, a friend who worked at Shepherd forever ago but then moved on to the working for the US Patent Office. I hadn't seen her in so long, but we had kept in contact via social media. Carrie and James were there, too, along with Lisa's friend from Baltimore. Just a very chill and fun time, reminding me how cool Lisa is and how lucky I am that we are still in touch.

2) Shelby's graduation party. I've known this kid since she was little. Her mom is one of my favorite people. They have been through so much and are still so close. To see her now be a nurse--it's really is special. 

Trying to beat the rain...

22 May 2026: On my walk this morning, I said hello to these divas. As always, they barely acknowledged me. Iconic.

Quiet, rainy, May day...

21 May 2026: After a very early heat wave, a few days of cool rain are setting in. We need the rain, so I am grateful (mostly). 

I ran errands most of the morning and got some work done on campus. I was home by a bit after noon. 

It's been a quiet since then--getting a bit of work done, talking with Tara (stuff with my mom is...hard), and keeping an eye on Jo (who is having another bad stomach day), and reading for fun. Reading two books at once (soon to be three), which I realize is an unintentional tribute to my dad.  

(Jo's okay now...just crashing big time on the couch. I said to her, "I am sorry you aren't feeling great, but it's been nice to be here with you today.")

Big Sister Energy

20 May 2026: 

Today while the group chat with my siblings was a bit lively, the song “I Melt with You” was playing on Pandora. 

I realized the first time I really heard that song, I was in the back of my mom’s minivan and we were driving Tara back home from a semester at college in the spring of 1990. I was always so excited to have her back home.

Anyway, I had my little Walkman and played a song for her that I was just swoony over: “Paintings in My Mind” by Tommy Page.** (Ha! It's not a great song, but I was young...) 

I can picture her*: putting on the headphones, listening, and telling me it was a great song. Immaculate “Big Sister Energy,” tolerating and even humoring my enthusiasm for the New Kids on the Block-adjacent pop star.  

Then she was like, “Let me play one for you…” 

Because she was the coolest person I knew, I agreed that it was a great song. (And come on—it is!)

Sometimes I think too much, maybe, about the hard parts of growing up. When I think of my siblings, though, so much is good and filled with love.

*A “painting in my mind,” if you will.

**RIP, Tommy Page. I still think you were swoon-worthy.

Summertime Syllabizing...

19 May 2026: Couldn't help myself and got started with some fall syllabus work, specifically for the YA Lit class. I'm including a couple of new books this time (Robertson's The Barren Grounds and Ursu's Not Quite a Ghost) and dropped some others. I reworked some assignments and gave everything a read-over, tinkering with some language in places. 

Felt good to get so much done.

I feel like I am always pushing, pushing, pushing to get ahead as "just in case," I guess. Hamilton's "Non-Stop" always plays in my head when I think about it. 

But now I am telling myself to push ahead for those reasons, but also so that maybe I'll have a lot "done" and can actually see how I really feel with nothing pressing to do. I honestly have no idea how that will feel...

Today I met (again) with a financial planner from Thrivent. He asked if I imagined myself working part-time after retirement. I told him that I didn't think so, but I also can't imagine not working. 

Is it love for the work or more of that running ahead "just in case"? Both? 

Small Things Like These

18 May 2026: Early in the spring, Randy (who I wrote about here) handed me a slim book. He remembered me saying that "Hanrahan" doesn't appear in a lot of literature. This book, Small Things Like These (by Claire Keegan), he said, had some Hanrahan in it. 

I just finished reading it and my goodness: what a book! 

I found myself thinking that it's precisely the kind of book my dad would enjoy and that we would enjoy talking about. His favorite short story, after all, was "The Dead." 

This book's answer to its central question--what do you do when you must acknowledge an travesty happening almost in plan sight?--is profoundly moral without being simple or naive. Just an absolute jewel.

Best breakfast dates...

17 May 2026: Met Cory, Hannah, and Theo at Tudor's this morning for a breakfast date. Hard to think of a better way to start the day!