"Secret of Life"

16 June 2026: Listening to Faith Hill's 1998 album Faith while I get some work done this afternoon. This was a major soundtrack of my summer of '98, when I was doing Summer Scholars research at Roanoke. Anyway, there's a lot of gems on this one, including "Secret of Life," which always struck me as wise in its simplicity. 

Maybe my favorite lines?

"The secret of life is to try not to hurry,

But don't wait, don't wait..."

Love that tension in the ideas and the way she repeats that second "don't wait."

I find myself navigating that tension (internally) a lot. 

Anyway, kind of cool to return to this album 18 years later. And Faith is so cute in this era! (She's always beautiful, but this late 90's cute is really something.)

Disclosure Day

15 June 2026: I really enjoyed Disclosure Day. A lot of fun and filled with hope and light. I'll take all the hope and light the world offers these days.

Knicks, Revolution, and Lil Soups...

14 June 2026: Checking in with the girls?

Jo had Knicks Fever last night, just like me.

Veronica, earlier this afternoon, about five minutes after I freed her from the office, where I had trapped her to apply Revolution. (Yes, another "Revolution on Cats" day.) From freak-out mode to staring at me from the coffee table in five minutes...

Not pictured, the Lil Soups they will both enjoy later this evening, a belated birthday treat for BabyCat.

Summer Institute 2026 and Christian's Birthday

13 June 2026:

Two things make today special. 

First, it's Christian's birthday. Every year, I am more grateful for how amazing he is. 

Second, we had the in-person portion of our Summer Institute today. Like every year, it's simply inspring to be surrounded by talented teachers who give so much.

Respites...

12 June 2026: A quietly dark day here, with a lot of uncertainty up in New York. It was also a busy day. Today that combination felt overwhelming at times--so much to do and all so soon. 

But other moments were respites: a phone call with a friend, a drink (mocktail for me) and some conversation with a couple of friends. So grateful for those moments that let me catch my breath. 

"Cracklin' Rosie"

11 June 2026: Since it popped up in an episode of Deadloch, "Cracklin' Rosie" has been on my mind. It's a great little song, but it also makes me think of my mom, who really loves Neil Diamond.

"I can't believe this. They f****** forgot my birthday..."

10 June 2026: After our regular post-Common-Reading-meeting-lunch, Hannah and I were walking back to her office. She mentioned something about the day's date and I stopped and gasped. 

"I forgot BabyCat's birthday!" (On Monday...)

Hannah, who is always the best, a) didn't call me out for being ridiculous, b) didn't miss miss a beat, telling me, "I am sure she understands. She knows you've been going through it."

BabyCat, of course, is the cat who is least likely to understand, but I'll see if I can make it up to her. I'll give her some extra treats tonight and get her a Lil Soup over the weekend. And she can freely imagine her own little movie, Eleven Candles. 

In the meantime, here's a picture from mid-May that illustrates just how gorgeous she remains at age 11. 

Good luck, little one!

9 June 2026: This little baby was on my back patio when I started mowing the lawn today. Watched me just about every time I passed her. 

Worried, worried, worried that she was sick or injured or abandoned the whole time.

Put the mower away, swept the driveway and sidewalks, and then checked again. She was gone. 

Watering watcher...

8 June 2026: Caught someone watching me water the flowers this morning. 

Culture Gabfest

7 June 2026: I always wondered how I'd feel when the Culture Gabfest called it quits--which I could kind of sense coming?--but to have the news come right now? Well, I literally cried. 

So grateful for eighteen years (!!!) of top-notch entertainment. 

Home...

 6 June 2026: 

[Catch-up post...last one...]

Drove through blinding downpours in the homestretch, but made it. Grateful always to have this place to come home to. 

The Anna Karenina principle proven (again) in a single day

5 June 2026: 

[Catch-up post]

"All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."

By the end of Friday, I couldn't get these lines out of my head. 

[Hospital] Room with a View

4 June 2026: 

[Catch-up post]

When I first noticed the view from my mom's hospital room, I almost gasped. 

An image of such peace and beauty from a perch that is anything but. 

(I was born here in this hospital, but can't remember being there since.)

A minor miracle...

3 June 2026: 

[Gotta get through a series of "catch-up" posts...]

This is a silly picture, but an less than an hour before it was taken, I was sobbing because I saw that this sweet dog would be okay. So much is awful, but the months-long dread and despair that I felt around all things Snow-related has lifted.

Internal timeline cleanse...

2 June 2026: So much on my mind, but it does my heart and head good to catch these glimpses of my girls, peacefully oblivious. 

"Salt Then Sour Than Sweet"

1 June 2026: Very, very hard days here. Finding comfort once again in Sara Bareilles, whose music always comes to me at just the right times. (That this is also a Brandi Carlile collaboration is a lovely bonus.)

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! 

"the humble pencil"

16 May 2026: After sitting on my bedside table for nearly ten years (!), I am finally digging into Laura Dassow Walls' biography of Thoreau. I am still in the early chapters and really loved this little excerpt about his family's pencil business, something that I have always wanted to know more about:

"Thanks to Henry's improvements, for a time Thoreau pencils were the best in America, sought by artists, engineers, surveyors, architects, carpenters, and writers--everyone who depended on a good pencil. Thoreau's own working method coevolved with the family pencils. Quite literally, Thoreau's writing career rested on the humble pencil, so much a part of him that, when he drew up a list of travel essentials, he forgot to mention a pencil, the same way he forgot to mention air to breathe or water to drink" (40).

Thinking about how lost I feel sometimes when I don't have a pen or pencil on hand...

(Also thinking about setting a goal of moving a certain number of books from that beside table--and the other one--this summer. We'll see. Right now I am working on two.)

Work Cited

Walls, Laura Dassow. Henry David Thoreau: A Life. The U of Chicago P, 2017.

"Called back"

15 May 2026: Today marks 140 years since Emily Dickinson died. I was thinking of my last visit to her grave--exactly 12 years ago with the Prominence of Place class. 

Need to get back up there...

Life-saving training

14 May 2026: Walking back from a meeting across campus, I saw a big group of our staff leaving their (very first) Professional Development Day. That alone is pretty darn cool--that the University invested in training our hard-working staff in this way. But what really got me--what made my eyes well up--is how many of them were leaving the the Narcan boxes they were trained to use that day. They also did some CPR training. 

So smart. So important. 

First big spring storm...

13 May 2026: The first big thunderstorm of the spring is rolling through as I write this. Unlike Jo, who is looking disturbed and about to hide under some furniture, I am grateful for it (assuming it doesn't get too severe). We need the rain and only a few hours ago, I finished planting all of my flowers. 

As I planted the flowers in the bed by the front porch, I thought about how beautiful they were last year and marveled at how small they start. Now it's cool to sit here and think about the work that the rain will do to help them get there.

(Reminds me of the kind of moments I describe in this post: standing in the yard shoveling snow and trying to imagine summer and then standing there in the summer and trying to imagine winter...)

Spring yard work...

12 May 2026: Just finished the lawn and am taking a little break before trivia. 

It's been a busy day, but kind of casually busy, if that makes any sense; no real stress or rushing. Or rather, when I felt like I needed to be rushing and thus stressed, I realized I didn't need to be doing either.

Voted this morning. Planted a little redbud tree sapling tree a neighbor was giving away. Went to the dentist. Went to Walmart to get (more) mulch and some odds and ends. Wandered through Sunny Meadows on my annual annual-buying trip. Came home and kept working on the spring clean-up and prep work I started yesterday. Listened to a New Yorker Fiction Podcast story while I did the latter--a kind of tradition. (Yard work--fall or spring clean-ups--and Christmas light hanging/taking down=New Yorker Fiction Podcast episodes. A little tradition that I quite enjoy as it makes the tedious work more pleasant.) Then mowed the lawn. 

Tomorrow I'll see about getting the flowers in the ground and porch pots. Need to spread the weed and feed, too. I've got a couple of work obligations, but will do my best to stay unstressed/unrushed. 

It's almost like these little yard rituals--a yearly necessity--need to be done before I can settle into whatever summer break rhythm will emerge. 

Break routine...

11 May 2026: Always a strange time of the year--these early days after a semester ends. I am trying to push through some lingering projects and some spring yardwork...and then figure out the daily routine.

My summer to-do list (work-wise) isn't that big, so it's kind of hard to imagine what the days will look like. Until I do, I feel a bit uneasy and unmoored, but I am trying to embrace the possibilities.  

(Finding myself entertained by the unintentional double-meaning of this post's title...)

"joy still stays joy"

10 May 2026: Just a bit ago, coming in from my walk--a walk filled with Big Thoughts--I finally read a piece my friend sent me that she cut out of the New York Times. By Melissa Kirsch, it commemorates thirty years of "National Poetry Month" (which is April, so yeah...took me a while to get to it). 

Kirsh, like me, is drawn to springtime poems, especially those about April, a month of boomeranging weather contrasts here in the Northeast. She writes, "The internal work is much the same, sitting quietly, paying close attention to the weather inside, you can observe the hope that blows in with the fear, the lightness and heaviness that seem to be competing." Just a really lovely little essay.

The piece ends with some lines from this Jane Hirschfield poem that I have read before and even linked to on New Year's Day. 

This read-through, some different lines caught my attention and some of what was on my mind on my walk: 

"Stone did not become apple. War did not become peace. 

Yet joy still stays joy. Sequins stay sequins. Words still bespangle, bewilder."

"Joy still stays joy," I say to myself, which somehow makes the sadness bearable. 

Commencement day...

9 May 2026: Another good and busy day--two graduation ceremonies, lots of time with folks I am fond of between the ceremonies and then after, then pizza and a movie with Carrie and Rachel (we watched Sentimental Value--very good!).

Just a lot to be grateful for...

Pre-commencement running...

8 May 2026: Two graduation rehearsals this morning, then back home to do some cleaning in preparation for the Sigma Tau Delta end-of-the-year get-together, then back to campus for the Education pinning ceremony, then back home for the get-together...

It's something to be tired before graduation day, but I'll take it. All good and fun things!

Not all chair-dancing is grading-related...

7 May 2026: Just hit "submit" on the final set of documents for our Writing and Rhetoric textbook, a real bear of a project that is--for now--done! 

Found myself chair-dancing as I hit that button as this song was playing...

"The sun is but a morning star"

6 May 2026: Henry David Thoreau, among the writers who changed my life, died 164 years ago today. It says something, I know, about my state these days that I find thinking about his dying makes me emotional. Apparently, among his last words were "Now comes good sailing," which is an idea almost too beautiful to think about. 

He's been on my mind these past few days, both for this post's title--the final line of Walden--and for an earlier passage in the book, where he talks about "contracting yourselves into a nutshell of civility or dilating into an atmosphere of thin and vaporous generosity." Two seemingly different vibes in those lines, but put them together and you have a pretty good sense of what he's up to in Walden. 

I am grateful that his words come to me when I need them.

Early evening morosity...

5 May 2026: Here are some utterly banal but true statements, based on my recent and current experience and, with some liberty, the experience of my siblings:  

It is a kind of torture to be far from a parent who is dying. Much of it is also somehow easier than being closer. 

So, too, is it a kind of torture to be close to a parent who is dying. Parts of it are also somehow easier than being far away.

(The folks on the ground have the greater burden, I know. It's not even close.) 

Dead week meetings...

4 May 2026: I spent a big portion of today in meetings with my colleagues talking about teaching and writing. It was interesting, affirming, energizing, and just all-around wonderful. Best job in the world. 

Elmer!

3 May 2026: Well, this story lifted me out of some Sunday evening blues...

"The next day, veterinarians soaked Elmer in more oil and gave him multiple baths until most of the glue was gone. He gently headbutted shelter employees’ legs in the following days, seeming to ask for more massages. 'He honestly feels like every day is spa day,' said Cassie Davidson, a spokeswoman for the Humane Society of North Texas."

When I got to the part about his foster mom getting to keep him, I cried. (Of course I did.)

We did, indeed, have time, baby...

2 May 2026: Just finished the second season of School Spirits, not bad considering what I posted a last Friday. But sure enough, with some of my regular TV shows going on hiatus and work slowing down just enough, I got to enjoy every episode and can cross this one off my "to be watched" list. 

Onto the next one...

Five months...

1 May 2026: The new month kind of snuck up on me, but it is, indeed May 1. On my walk this afternoon, I realized it's been five months since my dad died. 

For the most part, I think I am handling this grief pretty well. It is still so hard and sad. I still find myself thinking, "I should tell him that" or "Dad would like this..." and then remember that he's gone, well...more times than I could have imagined. But I think all of that is pretty normal. 

The other stuff that's come rushing in since he died--Brandon's death, worrying about Vogel, my cousin's death, my mom's illness, so much work stress, and everything our government is up to--it's overwhelming. 

Maybe there's a gift in a quiet moment like this one, just thinking about him. 

So...it's been five months. There's been good stuff, too. And we're still here. And it's May, maybe my favorite month?

The lilac bush behind Knutti is in bloom. I snapped some sprigs to bring home. As I write this, they are filling the first floor with their fragrance. Another gift of May and everything that Spring represents.

Spring 2026 Grading: DONE!

30 April 2026: Just hit submit on the last set of grades. As always, feels good. Like last semester, though, finishing this time seems different. Surreal and...anti-climactic? Or maybe just weird because what's ahead is so unsettled. It's hard to imagine what the next few months will look like...

But we must do what we must do. Chair-dancing resumes.

Pulled up Pandora, which offered me this tropical (and thus summer-y?) classic. 

 

This song will never not make me think of a parody version that I heard second-hand from an elementary school classmate, who heard it on the radio: "Last night I dream of some bagels..." I can't remember all of lyrics, but I believe they included "with butter dripping off the sides / poppy seeds, you decide..." Do I even need to remind you that I grew up on Long Island?

Speaking of Long Island, Pandora is now playing Taylor Dayne's "Tell It to My Heart" and we are dancing in this chair. 

WISH Reception

29 April 2026: I continue to be so proud to be a member of WISH. Tonight's reception, where we heard updates from the four grant awardees, reaffirmed what a special group it is. Bring a bunch of women together in the name of high-impact philanthropy and you won't believe what you see. 

Time to write means it's time to write...

28 April 2026: This afternoon I've been working on a chapter about reflection, critical thinking, and metacognition for our custom ENGL 101/102 textbook. 

I started work on this months ago, collecting excerpts from student writing over the past two years, diving into the scholarship, and even sketching out an outline. 

I started drafting about three weeks ago. Wrote a heck of an opening paragraph. 

And then it just sat there because I just didn't have the time to do any more. This wasn't a task I could knock out in 30 minute bursts. And I had to devote those 30 minute bursts to other tasks.

Today, though, because I have the time and because those "other tasks" are mostly done, it's time to write and I am hacking away at it. 

It's going by quickly and I am delighted by that, though I know there are at least four more drafts between now and "done." But the grading is almost done--even all caught up for now, with the last batch coming in tomorrow--and I can do this. 

It helps that this is a subject near and dear to my heart--and one that matters for our program's goals and assessment. Wading through over 100 portfolios in January made me realize, "Hmmm, we need something about reflection in the book. Guess I have to write it..."

(And yes, this post is a bit of a break from writing that chapter and yes, it's also a bit of metacognitive writing about metacognitive writing...so I better stop before I get carried away. Back to work...) 

Granted...

27 April 2026: Got some news late today about a grant application that I was working on with my buddy, Hannah, in the weeks before and after my dad's death. 

Those were such strange, hard days. 

I hated doing that work at times, even as I was grateful for the distraction and that there was work to do. (In general, grant writing is just not a genre I love.) I remember logging onto a Zoom meeting less than 24 hours after he died. It never even crossed my mind not to. 

But you just keep going, you know? That's what I told myself. 

And as silly as it was, I thought, "This is what he would want. He would be proud."

Anyway, we got the money. It wasn't anywhere close to a sure thing. So...wow. 

I think he would be proud. I hope he is. 

A birthday and a retirement...

26 April 2026: A couple milestones today for folks who mean a lot to me: a dear friend's little boy turned one and a beloved colleague celebrated his retirement. 

Lots of Big Thoughts these days about time and transitions, most of them melancholy.

But it is lovely to think about how both occasions today, in my heart, are bathed in happiness and light. 

Fresh cut...

25 April 2026: Got my hair cut today and, as always, enjoyed talking with Isabelle, who's been my stylist for years now. When I mentioned that I had papers to grade, she said, "Oh, I remember you brought some with you last time!" I can't believe she mentioned that. A few minutes later, she said something about having a vivid imagination. "I do see papers," she added, "I see the people [who wrote them]. The work they put in, how worried they are..." 

I just think that's really neat. She's pretty cool.

School Spirits

24 April 2026: Got home this evening and started up where I left off on the latest season of School Spirits--episode six. The "previouslies" had me thinking, "I don't remember any of that..." So I went back to episode five. Same thing. Then four. Then three.

I think I must have been half watching them--over Spring Break, I think--and with everything going on, they just didn't sink in. 

It kind of bummed me out. Like...just weird and a sign of being kind of a mess at times--unfocused, distracted. 

So...I started the new season again. Just about done with episode one. Starting over feels kind of good. 

"It's almost summer, baby, and we've got time," I tell myself, trying to believe it. Every time I say something like that--even to myself--I cringe like I'm conjuring some bad mojo...

This evening, though, I'm mostly believing it. "Relax. We've got time."

Almost done...

23 April 2026: Spent a lot of time today working on a project that, at times, seemed unmanageable given everything else on my lists and so little time: the full proposal for a WISH grant to fund our NWP site. A draft is due to OSP tomorrow and after I give it one more read tomorrow morning, I'll send it off.

Gotta say: it feels good. 

The other seemingly undoable items on my list now seem a lot more doable and manageable, too. Just need a few more days like today. 

2026 Capstones...

22 April 2026: Capstones are in the books for another year! Once again, the students all did a good job, which is really quite a feat!

"Amaze Me"

21 April 2026: I am not sure why, but Girlyman's "Amaze Me" has been in my head since yesterday morning. I guess it's just speaking to me somehow: melancholy mixed with wistful hope for something better out there--or, more accurately, reminders of what is already good and marvelous that can sustain us. 

And this springtime impulse to just get in a car and drive...the road as possibility in a time when so much seems closed and settled.

Last week of classes...

20 April 2026: Started off the last week of classes with a long but productive day. Since no one came during office hours (WTH, students?), I just chugged along on a bunch of stuff. Still a lot to get done this week (and only a small bit of it involves grading), but feeling a bit more optimistic. 

Book club/play date

19 April 2026: Got to spend time today with Kaitlyn, Kenny, Cece, Cory, Hannah, and Theo--two great couples and two great little kids. 

When your mind is so occupied with illness, death, and aging, being around little ones, especially, is so good for your soul. Had a blast playing with Cece's toys and talking with her and just watching Theo crawl around, play, test his new words, and take in new things. 

"Gold Watch"

18 April 2025: Yesterday, I posted about the Lord sending letters that speak to me in precise, moving ways. Another arrived today in the form of "Gold Watch," a story by John McGahern, read by Tessa Hadley on The New Yorker Fiction Podcast. 

I listened to it as I mowed the lawn this morning, grateful for a stretch of time to take it in and sunglasses to cover my eyes in case anyone noticed a teary-eyed person pushing the mower. 

I can't really bring myself to write more about why it moved me. But I felt seen and understood, a bundle of emotions crashing together, too. 

"letters from God dropt in the street"

17 April 2026: 

In "Song of Myself," Whitman writes:

"I find letters from God dropt in the street, and every one is sign’d by God’s name,
And I leave them where they are, for I know that wheresoe’er I go,
Others will punctually come for ever and ever."

I am thinking of those lines tonight as I think about four literal pieces of mail that I received today--two from current students, one from a former student, and another from someone at an institution I gave a small donation to. 

The two from current students arrived via campus mail, part of a Program Board event where students could send thank-you letters to their teachers. They landed in my hand right after I found myself feeling very down on my walk to the mailroom--full of sadness and anxiety about so much. By the walk back to my office--with those unopened notes in my hand--I felt a different kind of teary. When I opened them? Magical stuff to read. 

The other two were in my mailbox when I got home; I love the idea that one is from the "past," so to speak, from a former student. But because we are still in touch, she's also part of my present and future. We've been sending each other genuine letters--long, comtemplative, thoughtful. It's meaningful and special to me. 

The last--from someone in donor relations at UNCG--made me happy because it made me think of a place I love and a place that shaped me. The good work they do there goes on. A young woman I'll probably never meet reminded me of that in a handwritten note.

As I keep writing in these posts, so much is so hard. It can--at least metaphorically--buckle my knees at times. It was on that walk down the hall earlier today, as text messages from home and from Pennsylvania filled me with sadness and fear. 

But the Lord sends letters to me--to all of us, reminding me of His presence. Today the letters were literal. I am so grateful.

6:34

16 April 2026: At the tail-end of a very long and busy week and at the end of a non-stop day, getting home at 6:34 p.m. seems like a little victory. Reheated some leftovers for dinner, watched Jeopardy!, got some more work done, and am settling in for the finale of The Pitt in a few minutes. 

There in the distance I see it--the light at the end of the tunnel. So much more to do, but I can see it ahead. 

"Our Book of Delights"

15 April 2026: 

"...But it’s our own ferns and fiddleheads, 

evergreens and sugar maples, trillium blooming, or on the verge, 

for no one in particular, for everyone in particular, as if to say, 

Go on, enjoy it..."

Oh, man...this one got me. I feel like such a mess and this is just what I needed to read. It's Arielle Hebert's "Our Book of Delights."

Accountability...

14 April 2026: Thinking again tonight about how I need to control my temper more. It doesn't manifest in yelling or anything like that...just being snappy. I don't like it. 

Nothing major...just wish I could do better. Calling myself out, I guess, for accountability. 

Potluck stop...

13 April 2026: I could only stay for about 40 minutes, but the Sources of Strength end-of-the-year potluck was really lovely. I haven't had the chance to do much with this group, but I am glad to be a part of it. 

Jo and the Redbud...

12 April 2026: Got home from PA, opened the windows, and found Jo framed by the redbud tree, a little tradition we're developing.

Vogel's birthday dinner...

11 April 2026: One day late, but happy to celebrate Vogel's birthday today.

Big Dog

10 April 2026: This is one of my favorite moments from the latest set of student paper conferences that I finished today:

I'm talking with a student whose mother has just had surgery. When the conference ends, I tell him that I hope her recovery continues to go well. I don't know why, but I wask him, "What do you call your mom? Mom? Mama? Mommy?"

He pauses for a moment.

"I actually call her 'Big Dog.'"

I burst out laughing as he adds, "Yeah, she thanked me for helping her with something and I said, 'Whatever you need, Big Dog." 

Amazing. 

A multiple-hat day...

9 April 2026: A long day with lots of different tasks to do/hats to wear. Conferences with ENGL 102 students this morning. Work on the composition textbook in the early afternoon. Then adjunct interviews. Then NWP work. Now back to teaching prep and other associated "teacher tasks." 

Twenty more minutes until the "work" part of the day ends and I can watch The Pitt.

Still pushing back against feeling overwhelmed, but a day like this--when I can make progress on lots of things, even just a little bit on each--feels pretty good. 

Two good updates...

8 April 2026: Still pretty crazy and stressful here but two good updates are helping a lot.

First, a family member who had been in the hospital is now home and resting. 

Second, I had a good conversation with a friend who had done something hurtful. We talked it out and while things aren't perfect, it feels good to just choose grace and friendship rather than bad feelings. 

First mow...

7 April 2026: Once again feeling overwhelmed by...everything. Even good news (being invited to the next stage of a grant competition) makes me want to cry a bit, wondering when I'll get that done.

I snuck home this afternoon after conferences with my ENGL 102 students so that I could take care of the first mow of the season. A sure-fire sign of April and its frantic rush is just this situation: "if I don't mow it during this narrow window of free time, everything will be terrible..." 

On my way to the car, a colleague stopped me to say hello. "One thing I can tell you," he said, "when you are done, you'll see it." He's so right. It helps to make little bits of progress, however fleeting.

Stopped and snapped a couple of pictures as I worked, particularly of my beloved redbud tree, doing its thing and leaving me in awe all over again. (Consciously kept the mower in the shot! Ha!)

I texted Hannah later and said, "I stood and looked at the freshly-cut lawn with all the satisfaction of a suburban dad, as per usual." 

Spent the rest of the day working from home and making pretty good progress: did some course prep, finished gradig a stack of essays, sent about 100 emails. Hanging in there.  

Psalm 147:3-4

6 April 2026: 

Praying for healing for a loved one tonight...

"He heals the brokenhearted 

    and binds up their wounds.

He determines the number of the stars

    and calls them each by name."

Easter 2026

 5 April 2026: 

I love my little egg son. 

Had a wonderful Easter with Erin, Eric, Krista, and Isla. So blessed to have them so close.

Softball season...

4 April 2026: 

[Catch-up post--forgot to post last night for some reason!]

Got to see the Shepherd softball team play yesterday--in truly summer-like temperatures. Maddy Ruffner (who I had in ENGL 204 last spring) dominated the game, striking out 19 runners, an all-time record for Shepherd. Maddy was the previous record holder...with 18. Exceptional talent!

The final turn...

3 April 2026: Miles to go before I sleep and all that, but we are in the final turn of the semester! (Mixing a Frost allusion with a NASCAR reference is very me...)

Three more weeks of classes and then a week of exams. About a month to go. We can do this. 

Ten days later...

2 April 2026: Same spot from this post and already fading, but such is the nature of spring beauty!

Brandi and Amy

1 April 2026: Brandi on Amy Poehler's podcast? Manufactured in a lab for me! What a way to start the day!

Deep breaths...

31 March 2026: Was having such a lovely and productive day and then I get (accidentally!) forwarded an email meant for someone else, low-key attacking a program I work with and am so proud of. And the lead attacker? Someone I thought was a friend. It's like a plot out of a (very boring) soap opera.

I am so mad. My jaw is aching. Need to take some deep breaths, talk myself down, sit on the absolute barn-burner of an email I have drafted to that person, and instead focus on two good things still to come today: a book launch for a former student and then weekly trivia.

Deep breaths...

Lil ball of paper...

30 March 2026: When I walked down the driveway to bring the recycling bin back to the garage, I saw a scrap of a piece of paper was left behind. I crumpled it up to throw it out, but the very gesture of crumpling up paper makes me think of Jo, whose favorite kind of toy remains balls of paper. 

I rolled it around in my hand, thinking, "She might really like this one..." Something about the littler size...

I put it in my pocket and headed to work, deciding to think about it. Not every piece of scrap paper makes the cut, after all. 

All day long when I reached into my pocket, I would feel it and think about Jo waiting at home.

Got home around 6:00, called her over, showed it to her, and watched her focus on it. (Shades of the way Wesley used to lock in on a toy when I held it up.)

I tossed it. She chirped and jumped off to chase it.

All evening long, she's been batting it around and bringing it to me. 

Just a minute ago, I picked it up and she ran to her favorite spot for me to throw them. (LOL at the Bob's Burgers' caption.)

She's just so silly, weird, pure, and fun. 

Donors and Scholars reception

29 March 2026: There's nothing quite like the Foundation's reception for donors of named funds and the scholars who benefit from those awards. I was asked to give some remarks, but the two students who went before me were a tough act to follow. I am extra emotional these days, but those kids moved me almost to tears. 

Best job in the world. 

Busy Saturday...

28 March 2026: Grading ENGL 407 Critical Essay Proposals at the end of a long Saturday. Grading all morning, NWP event in the afternoon, then--a treat!--dinner and a movie (They Will Kill You) with Amy, followed by housework and more grading...and I've got so much more on my plate for Sunday to even begin to feel caught up.

But the proposals are strong, reflections of my smart and creative students. And the day, while long, was pretty darn good. And I just watched the Yankees sweep the Giants in their opening series.

I'll take it.

She's back!

27 March 2026: It's been so busy that I almost didn't notice when my favorite tree started doing its thing. And then it was rainy most of today. Even in the rain, though, she's beautiful.

Incorrigible...

26 March 2026: Got herself locked in the pantry for 12 hours yesterday. Today? Jumped right back in and had to be coaxed out. Also worth noting that she's framed by about $100 worth of "sensitive stomach" food that she has to have...even though she's a trashcat. 

"Chloe and the Hare"

25 March 2026: Woke up pretty early this morning--awake enough that I (with some annoyance) thought, "Okay, let's get on with it" and got up. So, here I am at my desk on campus much earlier than usual--not a bad thing when I have a long to-do list. 

Maybe it's going to be a "get things done early" day? 

Exhibit B: getting my daily blog post in early, linking to this episode of This is Love, which will stay with me for a long time. Also had me thinking--like so many animal stories do--about my uncrackable nut of a cat, Veronica, who like the hare in this piece, keeps her distance but also somehow stays close.

"Amelia"

24 March 2026: A lot on my mind tonight at the end of a long day. Getting just a few more things done with one of my favorite Bob's Burgers episodes playing: "Amelia." Always soothes me and makes me smile.

 

Mantra practice...

23 March 2026: Yesterday as I was trying (mostly unsuccessfully) to fall asleep, I realized I could remember all the parts of my new mantra. A little bit funny, but also not really.

So...I need to do better about remembering it and (duh) practicing it.

Going to write it on a post-it that I move from day to day in the notebook that I am using for my daily lists right now. 

Relax, listen, retract, be humble, serve.

Soon...

22 March 2026: Looking up on my walk this morning...

Project Hail Mary

21 March 2026: What a fun and hopeful movie this was! It's also goofy, funny, and weird. 

Actually a pretty good day all around, all things considered. Had a really fun lunch date with Jeannie, then the movie and dinner with Amy. 

Couple of little guys...

20 March 2026: Definitely a lot of stuff on my mind today. Find myself drifting between feeling okay and overwhelmed with emotions (sadness, worry, anger). 

So, I finally decided to put together this little Lego set that Jane gave me for Christmas. (Or maybe my birthday? We exchanged both sets of gifts in January...) 

I was saving it for a reward for myself (I know, I know...) but figured the time was right.

Super fun. Super cute little guys. They make me smile. 

Will maybe take them to my office on campus. 

Hopelessly devoted to Jo...

19 March 2026: In another rough period, anxious about a loved one's health, but I think I am doing a bit better this evening. 

My evidence?

Well, I did find myself dancing in the kitchen with Jo to this number, on my mind since the Hit Parade episode I mentioned in this post. This little cat remains very good for my soul, as does her big sister.

2 Corinthians 1:3-4

18 March 2026: 

"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God." 

"Annie's Song"

17 March 2026: Been humming/singing this one to myself since yesterday--along with "Hopelessly Devoted to You." That seemingly random combination is the result of this fun Hit Parade episode. 

Anyway, I am such a big old softie that this one gets to me. 

[And isn’t everything risk?]

16 March 2026:

Perfect poem for a solitary, Big Thoughts day. Grateful for Gregory Orr's work.

"And isn’t everything risk?

The beloved lives
Then dies,
Then (if we’re lucky)
Rises again 

Into a poem or song

Or into the world
In some other form
Impossible to predict.

Simplest story, oldest tale: 

Sparrows sing it
From every hedge;
And swallows, also,
From their nests on the ledge." 

That there's a tornado watch in effect also feels appropriate as the weather outside veers from bright sun to storms and back again.

"Golden"

15 March 2026: A lot of the big awards are still yet to handed out, but "Golden" just won an Oscar, reminding me of sitting in the car with Erin less than a week ago. By the fourth time that song came over the radio, I said to her, "I mean, it really is a banger." Undeniable appeal across demographics. 

Another early sign...

14 March 2026: The temperature is supposed to crash early this coming week, but today was pretty nice--in the 50s and sunny.

And on my walk today, I passed a lovely early sign of spring's impending arrival: someone mowing their lawn. That smell? Instant mood-lifter. 

Made it...

13 March 2026: Boy, do I need this Spring Break! I've got a pretty decent set of lists of things to do, but I am so happy about having a relaxed schedule to get them done. And so happy to sprinkle in some low-key fun things.

Mantra...

12 March 2026: I went to sleep last night feeling bad about the way I have been showing up for the people in my life who aren’t my students. These past few months have been exhausting and I have so much on my work and life plates, but that’s just not an excuse. And it doesn't matter if I mean it or not; the damage and the way it feels is the same. 

I feel awful about it. Awful. 

Eventually drifted off to sleep thinking about and workshopping a mantra of sorts, a list of verbs I want to practice so I can do better: relax, listen, retract, be humble, serve. Won't write much more about them. It’s enough that I know what they mean. 

Going to try. Gotta do better. Nothing matters more. 

Ryan and Randy

11 March 2026: This morning when I got to campus, I saw Randy, a older man who audits my classes sometimes, walking through the parking lot. We stopped and talked for a bit about fishing. 

(On Monday, Randy offered to give the other students in my American Lit class an introduction to fly fishing one Saturday. A bunch of them said they were interested. Watching this unfold, I was so touched, I said both to myself and to the student whose quiz I was returning, "Best job in the world, right?"--because my goodness, what a gift to get to see things like this happen.)

(I could write a lot about Randy and what a joy it's been to have him in class so many times--and how he reminds me of my dad.)

Anyway, this morning Randy and I talked about fishing for just a minute or so. I told him how Ryan loved fishing and how watching him tie flies was like watching an artist at work.

Always grateful for chances to talk about Ryan in happy ways, especially to people who I think he would have liked a lot--people like Randy. 

"Martha's Lady," again...

10 March 2026: “...life was such a passion and happiness of service that it was impossible not to be devout." --Jewett, "Martha's Lady"

I am getting ready to teach this story again for the first time since 2018, I think. Found myself tearing up all through it for so many reasons. It's achingly beautiful.

Smelling the sweet air...

9 March 2026: Long and busy day (but a good one!). An HLC team was on campus today for a mid-cycle review which meant three separate meetings--in addition to the usual slate of teaching and office hours. But that all went well--with the weather getting points for mood-lifting and energizing vibes. 

Despite the fact that I have a lot of work to get done tonight, I am so pleased to be home, changed into comfy clothes (after a nice bath!), and sitting here grading, watching Bob's Burgers, and smelling the sweet fresh air coming through the open windows. Literally just stopped, closed my eyes, and breathed it in.

And it's still bright out. 

I know yesterday's post was similar, but my goodness: I needed all of this. 

Springing forward...

8 March 2026: Grading ENGL 102 essays (not too bad!) with the windows open while Bob's Burgers reruns play on the TV. Jo, who has been moving between the window and my chair/lap, is settled on the ottoman. Though most of the day was kind of cloudy, the sun is shining now--noteworthy because it's after 6:00 p.m.

So yeah: loving this time change and the spring vibes (though I know we aren't done with chilly weather--and I know tomorrow morning will be rough). 

Home again...

7 March 2026: Got home around 7:00 tonight, almost exactly 36 hours after leaving. It's been a long day and a half, but everything went as well as it could.

I don't think I've ever been to a funeral where the people who talked did a better job creating a perfectly precise and moving depiction of their loved one. There was a single false note. Just a wonderful set of remarks about a very loved man who lived a heck of a life. 

Road trip partner...

6 March 2026:

[Catch-up post...]

Drove up to NY with Erin for Troy's funeral. We've made too many of these trips together lately, but I couldn't ask for a better co-pilot. Somehow we talk the whole time, but it never feels forced. On these last three trips (to see my dad when he was sick, to go back up for his funeral, and now this one), we've literally laughed and cried. We talk stuff out, think through things out loud, and work through big emotions. 

Basically, this is a baby sister appreciation post. Very blessed to have her in my life. 

When you look up...

5 March 2026: ...and this little face is looking back you? That makes a work-from-home day even better.

"Two Friends"

4 March 2026: Had a blast teaching Mary Wilkins Freeman's "Two Friends" in my seminar today, particularly its structure, what it leaves unsaid (and perhaps why), and the ways that "friend" is such a beautifully capacious word.

"I Was There to Hear Your Borning Cry"

3 March 2026: 

   

This morning, I came across the program from my dad's funeral services. My eyes went to the lyrics for this hymn, which we sang at the end. I can remember those moments so clearly, feeling comfort on his behalf--the Lord had him now--and incredible sadness for us, who didn't have him anymore.

This morning, I once again found myself crying at both its reassuring beauty and the ache that remains in his absence.

Crying again hours later, typing this, thinking about yet another funeral this weekend, this one for Troy.

So much in the world is (still) so very hard. I mean, my God, another war? 

The Lord is here for us, though, and has been since the beginning.

"This human life"

2 March 2026: 

"...But from the inside 

this life feels enormous, unlimited 

by the self—by selfness—"

Grateful to come across this Maggie Smith poem in my "Poem-a-Day" email. Sometimes I think about the vastness Smith writes about here and then wonder about the vastness in others. 

It seems to me one of the great projects--responsibilities, even--of living is acknowledging that vastness in others. Getting glimpses of it is often one of life's great pleasures. 

(This is also why the two most recent papers I've been working with my students on--profiles--are so rewarding.)

"On the Dark Side"

1 March 2026: Just saw that Eddie and the Cruisers is streaming on Pluto TV. My dad always loved that movie and the hit from it: "On the Dark Side." 

Listening to it now and thinking of him. Makes me cry and it makes me smile. 

First open window in months...

28 February 2026: I have to close them soon as the evening draws near, but temperatures in the mid-60s today have made for a couple of open windows and a couple of very happy cats. 

Come on, spring!

Ciao Pasta

27 February 2026: Very excited to have found a new restaurant: Ciao Pasta in Hagerstown. Fresh, real Italian food. A perfect dinner after seeing the fun-enough-but-not-great Scream 7.

Farewell to Tracy...

26 February 2026: Our wonderful registrar's retirement reception was today. She's been such a steady presence during all of my time at Shepherd. I'll miss her a great deal. 

She told me, "I guess it's up to you to keep things on track now..." Ha! 

Legacies...

25 February 2026: Today I was working with Grady, one of my English 102 students, on his essay. It's a profile of Matt, the coach of his mountain biking team. Grady is working out how best to make the point he wants to make: that Matt has impacted so many lives. Coaching, of course, is a kind of teaching. 

And that had me thinking about teaching in general. No need to write it because I've written it so many times before but here it is again: the time I spent today in the classroom and with my students in my office? The best part of the day.

I've been thinking a lot about legacies lately; losing your dad, seeing your best friend lose her partner, and then losing a cousin in three months will do that to you. 

So, too, will a messed up world get you wondering about what difference you can make.

There are so many reasons a career in teaching is a gift, but the clearest reason is how, if you do it even kind of right, you are leaving a legacy. 

Thought about that some more this afternoon when I recognized a former student working at Walgreen's. I just had him for one semester--in English 204--but the very kind (and unprompted) things he said about that class today almost got me teary.

I kept thinking about it all as I moved to the greeting card section to pick up sympathy cards for my aunt, uncle, and cousins. And then I really got teared up, right there in Walgreen's. (Getting emotional at the pharmacy? It's happened a few times before.) 

I am not saying teaching will be my whole legacy someday, but if it's most of it? That's enough.

Singing telegram...

24 February 2026: Another long day, but one highlight was delivering a "Happy Birthday" singing telegram to Aidan, who turned 21 today. He's such a good kid: friendly, kind, and genuinely fun to talk to. 

Pranks in heaven?

23 February 2026: My cousin Troy died today, after a long battle with cancer. He was a good guy with a mischievous streak that matched Ryan's. So today I find myself wondering if there are pranks in heaven, because if so, it's about to be a bit more "lit" up there. (A hidden reference there to one of their favorite pranks.)

Just so much loss this winter. It's overwhelming and I don't know what to say to my aunt, uncle, and cousins. But I'll do my best and start with "I'm just so sorry."

Editor hat...

22 February 2026: Got to wear my (Associate) "Editor hat" today as I finally spent a decent chunk of time going over a manuscript on Alcott that we're hoping to publish in the same series that my book is part of. I've been in this kind of role in much smaller ways--journal articles, a special issue of Studies in American Humor--but this is more intense--and cool! I am not sure how up I'd be for the head editor role, but this stuff? So far--fun, interesting, and the good kind of challenging. 

Academic Showdown!

21 February 2026: Had a lot of fun moderating three games at this Academic Showdown held on campus today. Channeled my inner Ken Jennings, though I will admit I was nervous! I didn't want to mess anything up for these wonderfully nerdy high school kids. 

"Too Late"

20 February 2026: We've had a good week in my seminar (I think?), moving through a week of stories by Rose Terry Cooke. She's an author who fascinates me, but I wasn't sure if students would feel the same way. 

Of the stories we did this week (which also included "Mrs. Flint's Married Experience," "How Celia Changed Her Mind," and "Freedom Wheeler's Controvery with Providence"), "Too Late," which we discussed today, is probably the hardest sell. But I think they appreciated it--both its artistry and its enduring value. 

What a blast it's been teaching this course! 

Board stuff...

19 February 2026: Last spring, I took on an administrative task that I was not happy about: serving as the faculty representative to our Board of Governors. I was willing to serve, but I was also downright angry about it. Today, though, during a very long and important meeting, I realized that all of that anger is gone. 

We are a group of very different people who disagree about so many things, but it's really inspiring to see us come together in support of what's best for the University. 

To realize that anger is gone? Pretty awesome. 

And yes: another reminder that there is something so special about Shepherd. 

5 game streak!

18 February 2026: Very busy day, one with a couple of not fun meetings. What powered me through? Knowing where I was headed to when that last meeting ended: over to the Butcher Center.

What a treat to see the women's basketball team win their fifth game in a row tonight. They are 7-1 since January 24. That loss? It was by one point. 

So much fun to watch them play!

Little spring preview...

17 February 2026: Warmest day here since mid-November, I think. I didn't take my walk until nearly 5:00, but did so in just a sweater. It felt so good. Come on, spring!

Back at Bender's

16 February 2026: First of two weeks subbing at Bender's tonight. Always nice to see the crowd there, who are so friendly and fun. I expected to be more stressed about the "lost time" to get work done, but I must really be on the last turn of this stretch of busy weeks because my vibes are pretty good. 

"Wuthering Heights"

15 February 2026: Saw the new "Wuthering Heights" (whose creators/marketers insist must be put in quotation marks) this afternoon. I keep thinking about Dana Steven's review--with the subtitle "Emerald Fennell’s Wuthering Heights is gorgeous, throbbing, and proudly idiotic"--and how spot-on it is. Beautiful, horny as heck, and dumb...but dumb fun. I just told myself, "shut off any obvious objection and just enjoy it." And I did. 

"We can be heroes..."

14 Feburary 2026: "Many pundits have observed that the world hasn’t been quite right since David Bowie went from earthly starman to heavenly black star a decade ago. 2016 was hard on the world, and especially cruel for music fans the year we lost both Bowie and Prince. But in 2026, as we persist in the fallen world, Bowie left us one marked by cruelty, strife and hardship. And as people on street do their best to fight back against injustice, I can’t help but think that the Thin White Duke had it exactly right. We really all can be heroes. Just for one day." --Chris Molanphy at the end of Part 2 of the Hit Parade episode about David Bowie. 

I found this ending so moving. Molanphy isn't usually this pointed and stirring in his (always excellent) podcast. But these are extraordinary times and we need all the inspiration we can get.  

Senseless...

13 February 2026: Tough day for our campus community. A student was killed in a shooting early this morning. Right across the street from my house, in fact. Nineteen years old. What is there even to say?

Pre-Birthday Lunch for Hannah...

12 February 2026: Busy day on campus, but not a bad one. (I wonder how many times I've written some version of that very simple sentence...) The best part, though, was having a pre-birthday lunch with Hannah. It means a lot to be able to celebrate someone so special to me and the world.

It says a lot about Hannah that celebrating her birthday is a kind of gift for me. Our lunches are always, paradoxically, never long enough and just what I need. 

"Surprised by joy"

11 February 2026: Yesterday, Tim told me--when we were talking about changes on campus--that he was happy to see me looking hopeful. So that's been on my mind (in a good way).

As I am starting to wrap up a stretch of extra-intense work (might fully catch my breath a week from tomorrow? fingers crossed!), it felt great to get over to the women's basketball game this evening and watch them notch another win. They're 6-10 now, but are on a little hot streak. Just fun, fun, fun to see them win. 

This post's title, the titular opening words of a Wordsworth poem, came into my head today when I was thinking about all of this: "Surprised by joy..." 

What I remember about studying this poem for the first time is how it shifts even in that first line--there's such drama in it. It opens not in the moment of joy, but in the moment after, when the speaker realizes he is surprised by it. And then it shifts to grief. 

I was surprised by joy--and yes, right there in the surprise, in fact, pushing it into being was (is) grief. But the grief didn't swallow the joy. 

There is something else there, though, ridiing alongside joy and surprise...a fear that the rug will be pulled out again. Can't let that fear take over, though.