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. 

Reading, thank-you notes, and course prep...

28 December 2025: Started the day off finishing my book club's latest novel, Food Person. I didn't love it, but I am glad to have read it and I am excited to talk about it with Kaitlyn and Cory next week. (We had to reschedule.) 

Next, I knocked out my thank-you notes. Some are for folks who sent flowers or other gifts when my dad died. The rest are for Christmas gifts. When you are feeling the way I am these days, taking the time to pick out the stationery I'll use, thinking about what to write, and addressing the correspondance is exactly the kind of work that can be satisfying and rewarding, reminding me of what I am thankful for. 

Finally, I've been working on my syllabi, particularly for ENGL 377. Making steady progress here and feeling excited about the work the students and I will take on this semester.

In between all of that, there's been walking (mostly around the house--too cold and rainy for me to venture out), movies, and TV. 

Almost got misty when I saw that Bob's Burgers reruns are on until 9:00 (and then the regular episode on Fox at 9:30). Perfect accompaniment for working through my list...

Still thinking about "What the Living Do," perhaps the perfect text for this "always strange but this year stranger than ever" time of year before the spring semester starts.

"What the Living Do"

27 December 2025: A little over two months ago, I kicked off what I called a marathon--one that I thought would be done in mid-November. I thought it was just about over by the time I wrote this post. I was wrong. 

It actually ended--I think? I hope?--yesterday when I got back to WV. 

Time now for stillness, I think/hope. Lots of work to do--so much--but I am catching my breath and hoping to settle in. 

I was in bed before 10:00 last night and, though I woke up--wide awake--at 4:00, I made myself drift back to sleep a few more times. I stayed in bed longer than I have in months. Jo insisted on staying with me--right up next to me or on me--for most of it. She's ready for stillness, too. 

Still so sad, though. Still so many Big Thoughts. 

Stillness is good--and so necessary. But I will lose my mind if that's all there is. I need things to do. Anchored in place, yes, but active. I need to do "What the Living Do."

On the drive back yesterday, I listened to Saeed Jones read Marie Howe's poem on the latest Vibe Check. Saeed called it a "Modern Scripture" for him and I think it might be for me, too.

This morning (walking past what used to be a video store!), I caught my reflection in the some window glass and thought of the poem's closing:

"But there are moments, walking, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the window glass,

say, the window of the corner video store, and I'm gripped by a cherishing so deep

for my own blowing hair, chapped face, and unbuttoned coat that I’m speechless:

I am living. I remember you."

Six years and one day...

26 December 2025: I know I realized my math was wrong a while ago, so my record-keeping might be suspect, but today my 10K walking streak hit six years and one day. Wild.

Spent a big chunk of today in my car, driving back from NY. By the time I got home, an icy rain was setting in, so I did most of my steps around the house. Weirdo.  

Christmas 2025

25 December 2025:

[Catch-up post...]

Muddled through somehow, as the song goes. Presents with my mom, church, a visit to the cemetery where Ryan is, a long, cold, windy walk (the only kind they are offering on LI these days, I guess), dinner at Tara's, Legos with Evan, then back to Palm Road for the Call the Midwife holiday episode. 

Christmas Eve 2025

24 December 2025: Long day filled with highs and lows and lots of big thoughts and feelings. Finding comfort and reassurance in these words...

Isaiah 9:6: "For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."

Mandatory holiday re-watch...

23 December 2025: 

This image (from Carol) gets me every time. (This capture doesn't do it justice.)

"Hard Candy Christmas"

22 December 2025: I know it's basic as heck, but my goodness, I've been singing this all day...

Rockville time...

21 December 2025: I spent the afternoon and evening with Tim and Kevin in Rockville. Perfect. Just what I needed for the shortest day of the year during these strange days.

Wrapping "helper"...

20 December 2025: 

This very good girl...

19 December 2025: Evenings are still hard, I guess. I stayed on campus until nearly 6:30. There's plenty to do--still feel so far behind--so it was easier to stay there and work than come home and feel sad and alone. 

But when I did get home? Someone was very glad to see me. Made me smile. 

Christmas cards...

18 December 2025: Tonight, I finally had the actual time and mental/emotional time to write my Christmas cards. Took a long time to do them all at once, but I am really glad that they are done. 

Four weeks ago...

17 December 2025: Four weeks ago, the day before my dad went to the hospital, I wrote this post. It felt so good to be home by 5:30. Being here, alone, just me and the girls, just chilling. It was awesome.

Today I was home by 5:30 again, but only because I made myself leave the office. If I had stayed longer, who knows when I would have left. Honestly, it's hard to understand why everything else is different just because he's gone, but it is. I know the time of the year, the semester break, and a ton of work to do--none of it that exciting--is playing a role, too. 

I'm okay. It's okay. But I don't want to do much. I don't want to be all alone. I don't want to be with what Emerson would call "cheap" society. Bob's Burgers, hanging with Jo and Veronica, baths, sleep, work. That's about it. 

Immensely grateful that Tim and Kevin called this evening and invited me over on Sunday. That will help.

Five-meeting day...

16 December 2025: It's sometimes surprising what makes me laugh (inwardly), but on a five-meeting day in mid-December the phrase "a robust form interface" uttered to describe some new software worked just fine. 

Fleeting...

15 December 2025: Left Knutti at 4:50 or so and saw the sky looking like this. Felt blessed to see it. By the time I got to my car and turned onto German Street, it was over--just darkening shades of blue left. Made that moment seem even more special. 

Fall 2025 Grading: Done!

14 December 2025: A bit ago, I hit "submit" on the final set of grades for this semester. 

 

As if on cue, by the way, Jo jumped up right after I submitted and collapsed into a little nap (which ended kind of quickly, allowing me to type this). When she did so, I thought, "Yeah, this will do." No chair-dancing this year. Usually there's some sense of happiness associated with this moment, but this time, I'll settle for relief and a bit of comfort and love.

Last one...

13 December 2025: My dad always made sure there were some diet sodas in the fridge when I was in NY. (He made sure everyone had a drink they would enjoy.) These last two visits, he didn't have a chance to prepare, but there were, in fact, just enough to get me through both trips. Today, I took the very last one to drink on the road. 

It's silly because it's so small. But I picture him loading them into the fridge and it's just too much. So many everyday things he'll never do again. Moving though that house these past few days was a kind of surreal I can't describe.

I am back home in WV now; the services are over, the bags are unpacked, and I am working through final exams and papers. Life goes on, but his absence from it is just so sad. 

His legacy...

12 December 2025:

[Catch-up post...]

Rocky Point Beach...

11 December 2025: 

[Catch-up post...]

Cue pathetic fallacy...

Couple of thinkers...

10 December 2025: Rosy cheeks from the start...

Paperwork day...

9 December 2025: Today has been a "paperwork day." Sending lots of emails (for this NEA grant application), grading, and doing what needs to be done to onboard the new admin assistant supporting our NWP site. Trying to get everything done that I can get done before leaving town. It's stressful, but also soothing...and a decent distraction. 

Dad at 18...

8 December 2025: Just look at him!

"The Stone"

7 December 2025: 

"...she dreamed that she had entered a new episode of time, in which she and the stone would become the same through the endless repetition and decay of all things in the universe. Molecules that had existed in her body would be joined with the stone’s molecules, over and over in age after age. Flesh would become stone and stone become flesh, and someday they would meet in the mouth of a bird."

Couldn't have made a better choice of what to listen to on my walk today than Karen Russell reading Louise Erdrich's "The Stone" on The New Yorker Fiction Podcast. 

Saturday...

6 December 2025: Three things on my social calendar today.

1) Shepherdstown Christmas Parade this morning. Fun and sweet as always, though I found myself more emotional than I expected. Everything beautiful and sweet seems so fragile right now.

2) Women's basketball game this afternoon. They lost but they fought hard. And, as I said to Amy, they really seem to like each other, enjoying playing with each other even when the score doesn't go their way.

3) Yet to come, but starting soon: hosting Rachel and Carrie for a pizza and a movie.

Grateful for this community that I get to live in. 

Last day of the semester...

5 December 2025: I can't write about it--too many emotions--but both of my classes gave me cards at the end of class today, packed with lovely messages of thanks and support. 

Time and again, the privilege of teaching these students almost knocks me over. 

"Angel Baby"

4 December 2025: Letting music do the work for me for another day. 

"It's just like heaven, being here with you..."

"Teach Your Children"

3 December 2025: Can hear him singing along with this one when I close my eyes...

Day one...

2 December 2025: Made it through the first 24 hours without him. Spent the day with colleagues, students, and the gang at trivia. 

Everything is so hard and sad.

But so grateful for work that means something and that makes me happy. So grateful for the kind people I spend every Tuesday evening with. 

Blessed, blessed, blessed.  

Dad...

1 December 2025: I am maybe three years old. I am walking through a parking lot at a strip mall, blinking up into the sunlight and looking at my dad. I reach for his outstretched pinkie and wrap my tiny fingers around it. He’s got me and I feel safe and loved. 

Love you, Dad, so much and forever.