Lights out back...

30 November 2020: Put up the outside Christmas lights today. I usually like to wait until it's actually December, but it is going to be a busy week. The front looks the same as always. This year, I decided to use my old (non LED) lights out back. I think it looks really nice. Here's hoping for some warm-ish winter evenings where I can sit out and enjoy them.

"standing in the spirit at your elbow..."

29 November 2020: "The curtains of his bed were drawn aside, I tell you, by a hand. Not the curtains at his feet, nor the curtains at his back, but those to which his face was addressed. The curtains of his bed were drawn aside; and Scrooge, starting up into a half-recumbent attitude, found himself face to face with the unearthly visitor who drew them: as close to it as I am now to you, and I am standing in the spirit at your elbow." -Dickens, A Christmas Carol

Perhaps because I've been thinking about narration a lot lately, this section from A Christmas Carol kind of leapt off the page as I reread the book this afternoon. I am sure folks have written about what Dickens is up to here, but it's a weird and lovely gesture, the author imagining himself as a spirit (in a book about spirits) standing right next to the reader. He couldn't have known that this book would endure the way it has, the way he would remain by the side of so many folks every year as they experience his story, but I really love it. 

The Pull of the Stars

28 November 2020: “I'd never believed the future was inscribed for each of us the day we were born. If anything was written in the stars, it was we who joined those dots, and our lives were the writing.” -Emma Donoghue, The Pull of the Stars

Our little book club was supposed to discuss this novel this weekend, but it looks like that won't happen. I finished it about a week ago and have been thinking about it so much since then. Donoghue turned in the manuscript of this book (about the Great Influenza of 1918) in March 2020. Unbelievable. 

It's an intense book, with an ending that is both devastating and hopeful. I am not sure how I feel about the sentiment quoted above, but it's a lovely idea.  

Partially lazy Friday...

27 November 2020: Got a big item checked off my Thanksgiving Break to-do list (and yes: it's typed and everything) this morning when I finished the fall yard clean-up. This is always one of my least favorite chores, so I am glad to have it done. 

Then I took a long walk and a shower and ate some Thanksgiving leftovers. 

Now I should be getting some more "I don't want to do this" work done today, including some reaccreditation stuff that I am resentful about having to do at all. (And I am just kicking myself for not saying "no, thank you!" when I got asked to do this last semester.) 

But I also started a book with a mystery hook last night (when I knew I shouldn't because it would tempt me) and kind of just want to read it with breaks in-between for TV. And this cat, who just wants to chill, is awfully distracting, too. Like...he literally gets in the way of work.

So...leaning into the "break" vibe today. I think that will be okay. 

Thanksgiving 2020

26 November 2020: Quiet Thanksgiving meal at Erin and Eric's. Feel very blessed to have them and the girls close enough to celebrate safely. And very blessed that the weather was lovely and warm. Back home now with my three buddies, who are sleeping on the couch while I watch a rerun of Supermarket Sweep. Might go to bed by 10:00. It works. 

Also, Erin made this PillowVeronica, which is adorable, soft, and huggable. Two of those adjectives also apply to RealVeronica. 

"revise the boundaries of selfhood..."

25 November 2020: "Crucially, this conversion is not simply a reformation of character but a reimagining of how the self relates to others....Scrooge does not so much lose himself as revise the boundaries of his selfhood. Instead of a mode of enchantment that sees the reader as forgetting or losing track of him- or herself, we might think of enchantment as a method for self-opening. In suspending his suspicion, Scrooge undertakes a kind of enchantment that makes him permeable. Because he can read with enchantment, Scrooge is neither lost to himself nor nailed to himself. This particular mode of reading makes the self penetrable to influence and thus malleable, convertible, and, most importantly, recoverable." --Aubrey Plourde

I am preparing to lead a (virtual) discussion of A Christmas Carol in a few weeks and spent today reading about a text that has meant so much to me for most of my life. It's a bittersweet task in many ways, particularly given how different the holidays will be this year. 

Plourde's article, quoted above, moved me when I read it. It's a lovely point she makes, compelling and quietly uplifting and hopeful. 

Relief...

24 November 2020: Found out today that a loved one doesn't have a condition that might have required a risky and serious operation. Relief is such a welcome emotion. Whew. 

Today was also the final day of on-campus instruction. Hard to believe we made it. Whew, again.

So long until....?

23 November 2020: When I left campus today, I said goodbye to Tim until who knows when. He'll be teaching online next semester and working from home. To put it eloquently, it sucks. He was saying we can try for some visits when the weather is nice, but the spring semester is going to be so tough. And we aren't even done with the fall semester yet. It's crazy to be saying goodbye before Thanksgiving, even. 

(Still very lucky, still very blessed, still glad to be employed and healthy. It just feels a bit better to put some of this in writing...) 

Remembering vs. learning...

22 November 2020: The one period in my life when I was regularly seeing a counselor, during my freshmen year of college when I was so depressed and wanted to go home, I remember telling her how nice it had been seeing my family during Parents Weekend. "I was so happy," I said to her. She stopped me and said, "Were you? It doesn't sound like it." 

I've never forgotten that moment. Since then, I'm reminded of it often, how I sometimes lie to myself, saying "This is good. Or on its way to being good" or "Maybe this will be the time it works and everything will be different." 

But, of course, remembering isn't the same as learning and changing, as I saw once again today. I need to stop expecting that things will change with a situation I've been banging my head (and heart) against for so long now. They won't. And every time I let myself think it--open myself up again to imagining it--it hurts so bad when it doesn't. So dumb. 

I'll keep working at it, but boy, I didn't need this reminder today. Grateful for the distraction of papers to grade, quarantine meals to deliver, and dumb TV to watch tonight. 

"Angel of No Mercy"

21 November 2020: Spent most of today grading and getting stuff done around the house. Nothing too exciting. In a moment of quiet, I found myself singing this song a bit today and remembered how much I like it. 

2020 vibes...

20 November 2020: 

The weirdness of 2020 in a sentence: It's late November and the temperature is in the upper 60s, and I am standing under a tent on campus with some of my students and colleagues, spitting into a tube for a COVID test, while Christmas music plays in the background. 

"Faculty Pandemic Stress Is Now Chronic"

19 November 2020: "Another significant source of stress, for two-thirds of professors surveyed, was meeting the emotional and mental health needs of students, who are also struggling." --Colleen Flaherty, in this insidehighered.com article

Look, at the end of the day, I am still so blessed to have this job, which seems (so far) pandemic-proof and still brings me joy and meaning. And I sure have it easier than so many others, as does this profession. But this article packs a lot of truth about how hard it is these days, especially when it comes to helping students manage it all. 

The Struggle Tree

18 November 2020: "Why am I reading a tree for filth? I'm not! I love this tree! This tree looks like how I feel and I am both attacked and enamored. And that's sexy. I saw this tree and my only reaction was 'Huh.' Honestly, that's the most positive emotion I've had in months. This tree boosted my serotonin level by a fraction of a percent and I'm out in the street banging pots and pans." --R. Eric Thomas in another perfect column

When I heard about the tree last night, I found it so funny. He put into words why. 

Haircut...

17 November 2020: With COVID numbers surging everywhere and Thanksgiving travel/gathering on the horizon, it sure feels like lots of things might be about to shut down again or that continuing to visit them will only get more dangerous. Along with that, I find myself worrying, "What if all of the sudden I am housebound for two weeks or more?" So everything feels more urgent. 

Ordered over $50 of canned cat food just to be safe. Made sure I have back-ups of certain supplies. Trying to get stuff done/ready. And, for all of those reasons, I got my hair cut today. Told the lovely woman who cuts it to go  a bit shorter than usual. That is, she tells me, a very common request these days.

Strange days...

Only 8:30?

16 November 2020: Today is the last "regular" Monday of this highly irregular semester. Next Monday, the start of a shortened week, I think most people are shifting to online if they are meeting at all. (I'll be doing review sessions and conferences online.) There's one more (shortened) week of classes after Thanksgiving, but it's being sold as "flex week" and will be entirely remote. Then a week of (remote) exams. 

So how are things going? I am tired (duh) and stressed (duh) and overwhelmed (duh), but I'm here. 

At the same time, I just checked the clock a bit ago and was genuinely shocked that it was only 8:30. Early to bed tonight, I think. 

Dickinson and delight

15 November 2020: "In Dickinson’s poetry, cheer and mischief statistically outshine bleaker topics. The word despair appears only six times in the letters and 31 times in the poems, whereas derivatives of the word delight appear 108 times in Dickinson’s letters and about 55 times in her poetry. Mentions of the word pain are comparatively fewer, too: they can be found in only 30 places in her letters and a little over 50 times in her poems. Sometimes the word pain is paired with the word delight, like the poem, 'Wonder – is not precisely knowing,' in which she writes, 'Whether Adult Delight be Pain/Or of itself a new misgiving –/ This is the Gnat that mangles men' (F1347). In other words, Dickinson seldom frames difficult experiences in wholly negative terms." --Eleanore Lewis Lambert, "Emily Dickinson's Joke about Death"

Came across this article--this specific passage--while reading a student's paper proposal. It immediately stood out to me, particularly the observation about "delight." It's one of my favorite emotions, of course, surprise and joy linked with a kind of vulnerability, I think. And it's seemingly in short supply these days. 

Lambert reminds us, though, that delight and pain are linked, almost dependent on each other. Interesting thoughts on Sunday afternoon...

Work Cited

Lambert, Eleanore Lewis. "Emily Dickinson's Joke about Death." Studies in American Humor, vol. 3, no. 27, 2013, pp. 7-32. EBSCOHost.

Virtual SAMLA

14 November 2020: SAMLA is totally online this year, which is--of course!--very smart and necessary. But it sure is strange. I am sitting here listen to very smart people talk about their work, the typical conference experience. But Wesley sleeps behind me on the chair, the dryer ends its cycle and I fold the laundry. I am wearing gym shorts and no shoes while the robot vacuum whooshes by. 

I deliver my own paper tomorrow morning, but I'll be sure to be on campus (better internet) and dressed professionally--at least from the waist up. 

Friday ritual...

13 November 2020: Eleven hours in the office today. Still so much to do. But little sources of comfort shine through, including my new Friday routine (new since March) of getting take-out from Kome and trying to find something fun to watch. It brings me comfort, especially in the midst of long days. But it also brings me down a bit because it's so solitary, especially at the end of those long days, which are getting harder and harder.  

Starting to wrap up (early)...

12 November 2020: The rhythms of this semester are so strange. Though it's only barely mid-November, it feels later. We've got just over a week of on-campus instruction left. Big projects are rolling in. My section of the GWST finished up today. 

It's got me thinking about the holidays more and earlier than I am used to. And today I keep thinking about Christmas. (Thanksgiving travel has long been "case closed/ain't happening" for me.) And I guess I knew Christmas would probably be, too. But, wow: anticipating it and knowing it bring very different emotions. I am so angry. So disappointed with our leadership. So sad. And anticipating being (even more) lonely, 

Multitudes...

11 November 2020: Trying to balance a lot in my head today. Good, bad, challenging, encouraging, devastating, local, national, personal, global...all part of today.  

Had one of the best discussions of "One Art" in my English 204 class that I've ever had. I wonder if it's because so many of us are acutely aware these days of of "the art of losing" and the lies we tell ourselves that it will all be okay.

Tuesday grading...

10 November 2020: Not surprisingly, perhaps, it is both funny and a bit morbid when a student meant to write “posthumously” and ends up writing “post humorously.” (As in “The majority of Dickinson’s poems were published post humorously.”)

Dickinson in the age of COVID

9 November 2020: "It's like we are living on the dash..." --a (brilliant) student in my Emily Dickinson seminar today, talking about how this moment feels. 

As I've said before, everything reads/teaches a bit differently in the age of COVID, but it's hard to think of a writer better suited for these strange days. 

Thanks for everything, Alex!

8 November 2020: Could give many, but I'll just give one example: when I was in college and I couldn’t watch it every day, my nana used to send me Final Jeopardy! clues in little envelopes that she cut out of paper. She’d write the answer on the outside and then tuck the question inside. Always made me smile. Alex Trebek has been part of my life since I was a little kid, someone who was always there, uniting generations and demographics, helping celebrate learning and knowledge, and reminding us how much fun trivia can be. I’ll miss him very much.

"I hear America singing"

7 November 2020: We did it. Overcome with joy and hope, even though the road ahead will be so hard. 

Tell em, Walt!

"because he cares for you..."

6 November 2020: "Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." 1 Peter 5:6-7.

Will keep it vague, but praying tonight for a loved one. Today was non-stop, affairs local and national, personal and professional, hitting all of the emotions, sometimes at the same time. But these words from 1 Peter remind me of who is in charge and there to lift us up. 

Closer and closer...

5 November 2020: Even though we knew it could take this long, it's still hard to believe that we still don't have a call on the presidential race. I keep waiting for a call and then all of the sudden, it's 9:00 p.m. That's it--that's the post for today. That's the main story, the one on which so many others turn. 

Deep breaths, continued...

4 November 2020: Oh, the highs and lows of the last 24 hours! I could write and write forever, but I am pretty darn tired and it's just enough to note that I have hope in the midst of being so sad that it's this close.

Also spent a good portion of the afternoon at the vet with Bing. I sat in the car (waiting room is still closed due to COVID) for over an hour while he had tests. My mind went so many places, including some deep despair. Amazingly, the news turned out to be pretty good for an 18 year-old. He's on some medicine for asthma and we'll see. I know his days are winding down--it just has to be true mathematically--but other than these symptoms and some weight loss (might be related), he still seems so happy and fine. I will take all the good days I can get with him, gratefully.

But man...so tired. Need a good night's sleep tonight...and a final call from another state to put Biden over the line would help. 

Waiting, praying...

3 November 2020: Did the thing earlier today. Can't remember feeling more somber, tired, overwhelmed, and anxious in a voting place. Matched the vibes in the lines, by the way. Been home all day, working on some stuff, doing some house work/chores. Took a long walk (of course). 

On that walk, a neighbor who I've never really talked to before answered my "How are you?" with a spontaneous download of emotion that I felt so deeply. She's from England which added an extra layer to our discussion.

A few minutes after that, another neighbor--this one someone I am quite friendly with--talked in her driveway for a good give minutes. "Stiff upper-lip, but it's so hard" kind of stuff. It's just so much.

Now we wait and pray.

This smiling-through-clenched teeth pic gives some clues as to my survival strategy: a comfy chair, good light to read by, water to stay hydrated, and the cats, of course. 

"Keep Breathing"

2 November 2020: Had a restless night's sleep and got to campus early. The day's business kept me distracted, but eventually the work got mostly done and the drowsiness set back in, reminding me of just how tired I am of everything: this administration and its endless cruelty, hate, and cynicism. This epidemic they've managed so catastrophically. This awful man who just needs to go away. Being so anxious and angry and sad all the time. 

If it doesn't start to end tomorrow--if he doesn't lose--I don't know what I'll do. Sadness, fear, anxiety flooded in as I sat at my desk. And "all we can do is keep breathing" came at me again and again from the Pandora station. 

 

I'm home now, changed into warm, comfy clothes, and am watching some distraction TV. I'll try to sleep tonight and we'll see what tomorrow brings. "All we can do is keep breathing..."

Meta Bing

1 November 2020: