Labor Day Breakfast

7 September 2026: Really wonderful to start the day with breakfast at Hannah, Cory, and Theo's. Good food, cool cats, two of my best friends, and their super-fun baby? What more could I ask for?

Rednecks

6 September 2026: "Sid had dug the black veins of West Virginia cola that made hte companies rich that hired these men. Money that could buy mansions on teh shores of cold, clear lakes and twelve-cylinder Italian automobiles and murder in muddy streets behind the gleaming badges of private detective agencies. Coal money, God-strong in Mingo County. Sid smiled because he was risen from the mud of this place, born to meet such men in the street" (9).

Started reading Rednecks, my book club's current selection, today. Digging it so far. And just in time for Labor Day.

Work Cited

Brown, Taylor. Rednecks. St. Martin's, 2024.

Catching up on the social front...

5 September 2026: I've got a list (admittedly not very long, but still) of friends I need to catch up with because I didn't get a chance to see them this summer. Get-togethers delayed, canceled, never scheduled to begin with because I felt too uncertain about where I'd be on any one day.

Got a chance to cross a couple of names off the list tonight, meeting my friends Steve and Kit for dinner in Frederick. We talked for hours, like we always do. Felt wonderful.

Literacy Narrative proposals...

4 September 2026: I spent a big portion of this afternoon reading through my ENGL 101 students' proposals for their literacy narratives. So many good ideas percolating and real depth hiding in some of them. Already, too, evidence of rich and complicated lives.

Lots of work to do--both for them as writers and me as their teacher. But we can do it. 

Sometimes it hits you...

3 September 2026: I really am managing everything well and have been since December. I'm kind of proud of myself about it.

But sometimes it just crashes into me. 

Both gone in less than nine months. So much...just gone. 

I think the thing to do is just feel it. 

And I'll be okay.

Out again on a "school night"

2 September 2026: Second week in a row that I've played Wednesday night trivia at the casino with some friends. Second week in a row that we came in second and won $50. (My friends have been playing every week for longer, but this part of the experience is still new and exciting to me.)

Low-key proud of myself for going out on a school-night and making myself have fun. 

Writing progress...

1 September 2026: I am pleased to be making good progress on a writing project that isn't fun, but is kind of satisfying--and pays. I got to spend most of today making my way through it at home, a luxury I want to both appreciate and protect. 

Mary Oliver: Saved by the Beauty of the Soul

31 August 2026: My goodness, this Mary Oliver documentary precisely the right thing for me to watch right now. 

Such beauty. 

Such attention to the self and the world. 

So necessary.

Annie's Burgers

30 August 2026: Another sign that Annie is settling in as an official member of this family (despite the fightin' with Jo and Veronica): she has been the subject of a "cat and Bob's Burgers" picture.

"Can I get some of that?"

29 August 2026:

ENHANCE!

One week down...

28 August 2026: One week down...and it went pretty well. I was anxious about the usual excitement not coming back, but it did (mostly). Very grateful for that.

Bingo!

 27 August 2026: Just had a blast being the (alleged) "celebrity" caller at Big Bucks Bingo on campus. I was, alas, underdressed, especially compared to Rambo.

The student taking the picture (and the students watching) kept telling me to "do a pose." I did, but I swear that I aged ten years doing so. 

They worked...

26 August 2026:

[Catch-up post]

Grateful to my dear friend, Monica, who left these outside my office door yesterday. They did, indeed, brighten my day.

Back to trivia...

25 August 2026: First time back at trivia since August 4. 

The teams were so kind. Just like when my dad died, I was overwhelmed by their kindness. 

One team brought a big birthday cake for me on August 11, when I couldn't host because I was waiting to hear about my mom's passing. They asked the Rumsey Tavern to keep it in the freezer until the next week. And then the week after.  Today, it thawed wonderfully and was delicious.

They also sang "Happy Birthday" to me. I realized no one else had this year, which is silly, I guess, but also...noteworthy. My parents used to call every year with a "singing telegram," after all. 

I see these folks once a week (and some, just once a month), but they make me feel loved and appreciated. It's such a gift. 

First day...

24 August 2026: A very busy first day was probably what I needed today--and it's what I got. Students seem great (as always). Good to see the halls (and campus) full of life.

So much still seems off...but today I am grateful, grateful, grateful. 

80

23 August 2026: My dad would have turned 80 today. 

Just hard to believe how much has changed since his last birthday. 

Tiny Meritus Park...

22 August 2026: Had a really nice time at the Boxcars game with a group from Flagship Trivia. And this giveaway--a Lego(ish) kit to build your own stadium--is one of the coolest I've ever gotten.

Welcome Back Lunch

21 August 2026:

[Catch-up post...]

Friday was a long day, but falling back into the rhythms and seeing folks again felt pretty good at times. 

A definite highlight? Spending time with Hannah, even if most of it was on the very long line to get dirty sodas.

New old table

20 August 2026: 

[Catch-up post...]

Since he wanted to get the boat from the Martinsburg house, Colin also brought down my parents' dining room table for me on Thursday. Very strange and surreal to have it here, but it looks good. 

Bonus, of course, was getting to spend some time with Little Man.

All ready...

19 August 2026: Copied all the syllabi. Prepped for all of Monday's classes. So I am, basically, all ready for Monday.

Honestly, the summer felt like it was so long, but didn't feel a bit like a break. Not sure how well this bodes for the new semester, but a "normal" schedule should be a good thing.

The beach this morning...

18 August 2026: Up early for a long walk before a long day. Marveled at how different the beach can look every time I am down there.

Grateful for a lovely funeral service, for the friends and family who showed up to honor my mom, and to be back in WV tonight.

Where else?

17 August 2026: Where else was I going to visit on my walk this morning?

A couple of long and strange days kicking off today, but grateful for some time to be alone and think before the rest of the day unfolds.

Soaked through...

16 August 2026: Took a long walk before driving up to NY today. Probably should have had an umbrella with me. Mostly, though, it just sprinkled.

Then the skies really opened for the last block or so. 

Felt appropriate. 

And maybe a bit renewing?

Walked through the door soaked, but it was okay. 

(Symbolism aside, I had to change and shower anyway before hitting the road anyway.) 

These two...

15 August 2026: Where would I be without these two? They have been kind of perfect through all of this. And they are navigating having Annie join us with more patience than I could have imagined. 

That picture of BabyCat was taken about ten minutes after Annie chased her all the way down the upstairs hall and down the stairs. Her face show she's mostly recovered from the "WTF?" of it and is in "I hate this, but okay..." mode. 

Exploring...

14 August 2026: Cat paws on the TV. Cat paws behind the TV.

Annie's exploring range is expanding. 

Pushing on...

13 August 2026: A dull headache persisted all day today, having set up shop on Monday. But it's okay. Very busy day, which is also okay. Lots of kindness from friends, which is more than okay.

49

12 August 2026: 49 years ago, my mom brought me into this world. This morning, she slipped past its bounds and gained her heavenly home. 

I am so grateful for all that she gave me and grateful that she is at rest. 

"Softy and Tenderly"

11 August 2026: Praying for her heavenly homecoming and so many joyful reunions.

Jo at 4

10 August 2026: Lil Soups for everyone today as we celebrated Jo turning 4! I woke up with her sleeping hard by my legs. On days like these, when I wake up sad, it means so much to feel her there.

Here's a photo that summarizes the big excitement in her life lately: being intrigued and intimidated by and sometimes angry at her new housemate. Really, she's been remarkably patient and easy-going about Annie's arrival, as has BabyCat. Very proud of them both. (Proud of Annie, too, but really hoping she gives up her aggressive colonizer attitude soon!)

There at 4:30 a.m.

9 August 2026: Made it back to WV by 2:00. 

Keep thinking about the wonder that is hospice. Called them at 4:30 this morning because my mom had a fever. There they were, ready to tell me and Yasmine what to do, what to look for, and to tell us to "get some rest." I can't even think about that kind of beautiful service without crying. 

As for the time between that call and when I left four hours later...it was like an alternate reality. Quiet. Profound. Ordinary. Sad. Normal. Just sat with her and thought and thought and thought and prayed. 

Saturday morning at Rocky Point Beach

8 August 2026: Back yet again. Took my walk early this morning as it's hot and humid here. 

The guy heading out in his kayak reminded me so much of Ryan that it almost took my breath away.

Another surreal day.

I leave tomorrow morning and thinking about how that will feel is almost beyond my imagination.

Yasmine

7 August 2026: Tonight, I watched my mom's caregiver feed her an entire Glucerna drink with a teaspoon.  In the midst of so much sadness, it was beautiful to witness.

Not even a year ago...

6 August 2026: Headed up to NY tomorrow for what will be a very hard visit. 

I was scrolling through blog entries from last August just to be sure I was right about Jo's birthday. (I was; it's on Monday.)

Felt my breath catch when I scolled by this post. Less than a year ago. 

Surreal.

She's home...

5 August 2026: For the first time since early June, my mom is home in her own bed tonight. So grateful.

Not Quite a Ghost, again...

4 August 2026: I am trying to get as much day-to-day course prep done ahead of time as possible, which is why I have spent the past couple of days rereading Not Quite a Ghost. I am teaching it for the first time, including it in the Young Adult Lit class. It's been fun working through it again through the lens of teaching and I find myself looking forward to diving into it with my students in October.

Comfort

3 August 2026:

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am." John 14: 1-3. 

My favorite superhero...

2 August 2026: Spider-Man remains my favorite superhero and I really enjoyed Brand New Day today. A kid from New York who wants to the right thing...

It was also good to get out for a bit after a couple of mostly solo and quiet days here. I just wasn't up for "cheap" society, to paraphrase Walden a bit. I even skipped a fundraiser last night that I had already bought a ticket for...but I just couldn't do it. 

Too sad. Too in my own head. 

But also okay. 

And (I think?) maybe more okay because I didn't go. I gave myself permission to stay home and just be. 

Then Spider-Man was a great way to get out for a bit. 

One day at a time...

"After My First Breakup, My Father Writes His First Email"

1 August 2026: This poem, by Emily Jungmin Yoon, has been in my inbox since it arrived via the Poem-a-Day email on Tuesday. I keep coming back to it. 

These last three stanzas, man...

How easy it was to forget this man’s sensitivity,
his love for music, that he took saxophone lessons,

             coming home to an unlit apartment.
             A taciturn man, who sings alone.
             Who, when years later asked 

what instrument he likes listening to the most,
said, the human voice.

Banana bliss...

31 July 2026: Yesterday, Jo provided some much needed light through her essential Jo-ness. Today, it was BabyCat's turn, showing off her glorious fluff while passed out after playing with the old catnip-filled banana. 

Dramatic snoozing...

30 July 2026: Another day about which, boringly and depressingly, I feel compelled to say that so much is bad and sad and hard. Grateful for the light that shines through, including from this silly, dramatic bundle of chaos and love.

Hadestown

29 July 2026: Got a chance to see the filmed version of Hadestown just before it ended its theatrical run. Really enjoyed it and found myself thinking about all the Orpheus-themed works I've encountered over the years. Really is the summer of being grateful for your early training in mythology. 

Caught her mid-prance...

28 July 2026: This cat loves to prance. I always think she looks like a cat ballerina when she walks.

"This Isn't Final"

27 July 2026: 

"Don't give up on all that you love

Just because it's getting hard

And don't give up on the person you've become

Just because it's getting dark" --Lily Kershaw, "This Isn't Final"

Sunday snapshots...

26 July 2026: Some images from today that make me happy. 

(BabyCat lives here, too, and is always worth looking at--I just didn't catch her posing when I had my phone out.)

Home makes me happy.

First day in WV...

25 July 2026: Made it back to West Virginia in great time and she's getting settled in. Not happy, but does seem to like the open window. She'll stay in the office by herself for a least a couple of days, I think.

Lots of Big Thoughts on my drive. So much sadness. It's the anniversary of losing Ryan, too. 

But it's a profound thing to take an animal in and commit to loving it and caring for it. And it's striking how quickly they work their way right into your heart. 

Somewhere in New Jersey, "You Are the Sunshine of My Life" came on. I thought to myself, "this little cat is just that--sunshine breaking through all this darkness. And 'that's while I'll always be around' for her." 

I don't like change and this will be a big adjustment for Jo and Veronica. But we'll make it work. 

Cat-napping...

24 July 2026: Tomorrow morning, this little one, my parents' cat Annie, will join me for the long ride to West Virginia. Praying that she adjusts well to life with Veronica and Jo (and me). She's a real sweetie and just the perfect amount of weird.

We meet again...

23 July 2026: Stopped by my youthful angst stomping ground this morning on my walk. 

Slightly better vibes than the previous two stops.

Free knots...

22 July 2026: At the end of a very long day (a nine hour drive to NY--three hours longer that usual; a visit with my mom at the hospital for about four hours), I stopped at a local pizza joint in Rocky Point for a slice. Because I am me, I talked to the guys working there. I told them a bit about my long day--mostly because I was grateful they were still open. 

I told them how I always gotta get a slice when I am up here. They were so wonderful and kind...tried to give me a free second slice and when I said "no, thanks," they threw in some garlic knots instead.

Don't believe what people tell you about New Yorkers. They rule. 

2.5 hours of distraction...

21 July 2026: Another trip to NY tomorrow and there's so much on my mind and heart. Grateful for the 2.5+ hour distraction of the weekly trivia game. 

It's not just a distraction, of course: it's also the chance to be around nice people hanging out with people they like and having a good time. It's pretty cool. It's also "bring your grandchildren" season, which makes me smile. 

Twelve!

20 July 2026: Rough day in our family, but a bit of joy found its way in, as Evan turned 12. He and I had a nice phone chat (complete with my singing telegram). Then later, Tara sent me a video of him showing off the Lego model that I sent him and he put together. He's just a good kid and makes me smile.

Sunday morning tableau

19 July 2026: 

This lovely little tableau sort of stopped me in my tracks when I got out of the shower this morning. 

The open window.

The new curtains--that just delight me--blowing in the breeze.

Jo's beloved Gray Mousie.

Jo herself, waiting for me to throw it.

On the bedside table, the little plush Jesus that Jane got me months ago because when she sent a pic to the group chat, I said it was "cute." (It is.) She finally had a chance to give it to me last week.

Took a moment, breathed it in and thought,  "My home...and I am so lucky."

Vigil

18 July 2026: Not sure how I feel about George Saunders' Vigil, which I finished this afternoon, but these lines sure did speak to me at this moment in time:

"I could comfort.

I could.

Thank you, thank you, I whispered" (172).

Work Cited

Saunders, George. Vigil. Random House, 2026.

Three boxes...

17 July 2026: 

Kind of made her choose...we are back to just two. (The newest, the one she's sitting in above, is now in the recycling bin.)

For the historical record (ha!), I also want to note that the air quality is so bad from the wildfire smoke that my eyes burned on my walk. The smoke smell also gets in the house, even with all the windows closed. Apocalyptic vibes, indeed.

Mid-July vibes...

16 July 2026: Pretty quiet day here today, but I managed to get a lot done. Got a lien-free title for the car (took less than 15 minutes at the DMV, I think?), did some cleaning out of my kitchen cabinets and took a bunch of stuff to Goodwill (inspired by cleaning out the Martinsburg house), and did some "work work," too. 

All of that is good...but the vibes all around sure seem oppresive. Can't be outside too long because of the heat and the wildfire smoke. Can't even eat salad or berries without worrying. So many signs of broken systems in a broken country. And so much uncertainty with my mom.

I meant to get even more done tonight, but might just take is easy. Checking out the new Little House on the Prairie. Hope it's good.

Trivia playing...

15 July 2026: For the first time in forever, I was a trivia player and not a host. A couple who plays at Rumsey every week have been asking me (also forever) to join them for a different company's game at the Casino. Finally decided to do it and had a really great time. Hope I can do it again.

Gotta find fun and joy when/where I can.

"The Eye"

14 July 2026: "You can dance in a hurricane / But only if you're standing in the eye..."

Trying to get to the eye today, if not to dance, to simply find some control. 

This summer's research agenda...

13 July 2026: In the spring, when I was thinking about this summer, I had a modestly ambitious research plan: work on turning my conference paper on Not Quite a Ghost into a full-length article. By the time the summer started, with my mom's health crashing, I knew that wasn't going to happen. My heart and my head just weren't in that writing mode. 

A few weeks ago, I started to think about another summer with not much to show for it. I am kind of used to not having big adventures or fun stories, but I can usually at least say, "I got a lot of work done." And I don't want to keep dumping sad news on folks.

Tonight, though, I am realizing two things: 

1) I've gotten a heck of a lot done this summer already. Wrote a big grant application. Taught the Summer Institute. Worked on Common Reading stuff with Hannah. Got two syllabi ready. And a bunch more little projects. That makes me feel good, even if it doesn't scratch that writing itch in the same way. 

2) I also got professional development work done--just a different kind. And here I am grateful for two new Associate Editor roles that I've taken on: for the McFarland series and for Studies in American Humor. I've reviewed and sent out articles for the journal, learning new skills and to read in a slightly different way. For McFarland, I am once again working through a manuscript that excites me so much--and that I feel I can help make even better. This kind of work--easier to wrap my distracted head around--is meaningful.

Now I find myself tempted to erase everything above. I want to push away those cliched, "Things seemed bad, but here's a bright spot" kind of posts, which I think I write too often. And texts from New York as I write this are so bleak and sad. Who the hell cares about a research agenda? 

Maybe I'll let it stand, though, as an artifact of a moment in this hard, sad, and strange summer.

The "Little Ones" Cleaning Team...

12 July 2026: Erin met me out at my parents' Martinsburg house to help with the clean-up/clean-out. I can't say enough how much help she was and how much real progress we made together. I feel a million times better about it all--despite being tired and dirty afterwards. 

She is a rock for me and a sanity checker. Profoundly grateful for her. 

As for the post's title, when we were growing up, the rest of the family called us "the little ones..."

A friendship divided...

12 July 2026: 

[Catch-up post...]

Had a great time yesterday with Jane, Kara, Patrick, Connor, and Maggie seeing the Nats play the Yankees.

This was my first Yankee game in forever. Seriously: it might be 20 years?

The Yankees won with a home-run driven come-back in the 8th (just like the night before). They also won today, again with a comeback.

"each wind is self-registering..."

10 July 2026: "The wind-driven rain had carved ruler-straight ridges behind each pebble, from which he could read the precise direction of the storm. 'All this is perfectly distinct to an observant eye,' he wrote, 'and yet could easily pass unnoticed by most. Thus each wind is self-registering.' With this he closed his Journal, his great monument to self-registration, forever" (Walls 493).

Finished the Thoreau biography this morning in the waiting room of the walk-in clinic. I think being in public prevented me from getting too teary as it closed out. 

Amazing life. Amazing book. 

(Finally decided to get this crud looked at. The verdict is something viral. Got a nasal spray and steroids.) 

Work Cited

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

Cold Case

9 July 2026: Yesterday I discovered that a network I didn't even know I had is showing a block of Cold Case episodes every afternoon. 

This is very good news: I really liked this procedural in my grad school days--Rita and Vogel used to come over to my apartment to watch it. We'd cook dinner and everything. And I remember some of these episodes so well. (We'd also play a game where you had to guess the killer before the last act break.)

It's also potentially very bad news, maybe distracting me from my work. Ha.

Anyway, an episode started today that I instantly remembered, including that Jason Dohring, who I loved so much on Veronica Mars, was in it. And man--rewatching this? You see everything in that performance that you would later see in Logan Echolls.

In fact, I was just thinking that when a graphic popped up...

Okay, StartTV...why is your programmer targeting me this way? 

"How swiftly, at last, but unnoticed..."

8 July 2026: In 1859, shortly after his father died, Thoreau wrote to a friend, "How swiftly, at last, but unnoticed, a generation passes away!" (qtd in. Walls 437).

Once again, this biography reveals a Thoreau whose life and words stretch through time, touching this moment. As I work to clean up and clean out the my parents' Martinsburg house, they are especially poignant and well-timed. 

Less than thirty pages left and I find myself sad that I'll be done soon...

Work Cited

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

His favorite spot...

7 July 2026: Thinking about something I learned today from someone who knew my dad. Something that changed--just a bit--how I feel about a subject that he and I really disagreed about. I know I am being vague, but it's enough to say that I am grateful for that insight. 

Progress...

6 July 2026: I've got a weird little summer cold--not ideal--but I tried not to let it slow me down today. Again, I feel the need to get as ahead on everything as I can, especially in a week with no travel and not a long on my calendar. 

So, it felt good to make a lot of progress on my ENGL 301 course prep, some work for Studies in American Humor, and on closing out our Department of Education grant. That last one feels really good. Cannot wait for that all to be done.

Also have a fresh manuscript for McFarland to look over (in my role as Associate Editor of the series). I'll really dive into that tomorrow.

As I type so often, bit by bit...

Sundays with Henry, Veronica, and Jo...

5 July 2026: 

"When Min, a Maltese kitten, joined the household, her wild freaks delighted him and he played with her by the hour, pausing to shake his head in his Journal: 'What sort of philosophers are we, who know nothing of the origin and destiny of cats?'" (Walls 283).

Still working my way through Walls' biography of Thoreau, seeing connections--both profound and silly--on every page. 

Work Cited

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

250th...

4 July 2026: Spent the day with some of my favorite people. Home by late afternon just in time for some big storms to roll through and break the heat. Nice to have the windows open after days...

Culture Gabfest

3 July 2026: A few years ago, I started to wonder about what it would be like if/when podcasts I've been listening to for well over a decade end. It's like a pale version of imagining the end of a "real-life" relationship. I don't even want to type of the names of some these...like it would releasing bad mojo.

Anyway, I listened to the final Slate Culture Gabfest episode on my walk this morning. I can still remember where I was walking when I heard certain segments over the years. Today I thought about their discussion of Big Night in the early days of the pandemic, with a clear memory of turning onto Hensel Drive on hte final loop home.  

Sad to see it end and grateful all the years of content and conversation. 

I'll miss them.

Paperwork days...

2 July 2026: A couple of "paperwork days" have me feeling a bit caught up and crossing some big items off of my lists. I still feel behind, especially with course prep, but day like these (and a heatwave keeping me inside by late morning) are helping with that. 

Strange summer, to put it mildly, but anything I can do now to stay on task or even get ahead will be such a relief...

"All I Want"

1 July 2026: I've always really liked this one and get swept away by that last reprise of the chorus, wrapped around new lines:

"And it feels so close (All I want is to feel this way)

Let it take me in (Be this close, feel the same)

Let it hold me so (All I want is to feel this way)

I can feel it say (Evening speaks, feel it say)"

90s nostalgia, for better or worse, hitting me really hard these days.

"in the midst of human stories, God reveals himself"

30 June 2026: Quite moved by Pope Leo's comments here.

"Leo also explained that writing, as a human exercise, ultimately leads to God.

'When we delve into the very depths of our humanity, we are not far from God; for there, in the midst of very human stories, God reveals himself,' Leo said."

That's it, right? That's the beauty and power and the point of it all. 

"Hot Pants Rain Dance"

29 June 2026: Sitting here now watching the Bob's Burgers episode "Paraders of the Lost Float" This one never jumped out at me before, but tonight I am loving how it's ultimately about embracing joy and fun when it comes to us. "Hot Pants Rain Dance" epitomizes this vibe, of course--a vibe that I welcome this evening. 

Strange, silly, but ultimately true that this show has gotten me through so much hard stuff. 

"Nature is not yours until you are more hers"

28 June 2026: Still working my way through Laura Dassow Walls's biography of Thoreau. The section on Margaret Fuller's death provides moving details that I didn't know before (some of them disturbing). Walls concludes that section with an idea that really struck me: 

"Once again harrowed by tragedy, Thoreau turned not away from the things of nature, but towards them, voicing again his awe before the fundamental strangeness of materiality. Nature is not yours until you are more hers: that sympathy had been part of Fuller's legacy to him" (294).

Work Cited

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

"Boulder to Birmingham" (Live)

27 June 2026: On my drive back to WV today, this version of "Boulder to Birmingham," one I had never heard before, really moved me. And made me think of my dad.

Three nights of dinner...

26 June 2026: 

[Catch-up post]

Every night that I was in New York, Chris, Jen, and Aidan invited me to join them for dinner. Twice, they cooked. And on Friday night, they took me to "Food Truck Fridays" at a local park. 

(I think I type the next seven words all the time, but here it goes again...) So much is so hard right now, but I am blessed beyond measure that my brother and his family are sources of light and literal and figurative sustenance. 

In my rearview...

25 June 2026: 

[Catch-up post]

Someone was very good for her vet visit.

Her anthem...

24 June 2026: 

[Catch-up post]

It's very hard that all my mom wants is to go home and she can't accept that we can't just make that happen. It's very hard that she keeps saying, "I want to go home." It breaks your heart.

Every once in while, though, she reveals a sense of humor still there. "You want me to hoist up the John B sails?" I asked her. And she smiled just a bit.

(The next day, after a long period of silence, she said, "Hey, Heidi: guess where I want to go?" I realized she was being just a bit cheeky, so I answered her, "Hawaii?" And again, she smiled ever so slightly.)

Sunshine just in time...

23 June 2026: Taking it as a good sign that the rain stopped and the sun came out in just enough time that I could mow the lawn this afternoon. Had to get it done today or it would have had to wait until Sunday or Monday...and even those days might not have worked. In the grand scheme of things, that's not a crisis, but I do get fixated on stuff. Having one less thing to fixate on? I'll take it. 

So yeah: that sunshine was quite welcome.  

Fixed!

22 June 2026: Finally got a long-delayed home repair completed today, thanks to some well-prepared, compentent professionals. It's always so cool to interact with folks who are so very good at what they do and take real pleasure in doing things right. 

Porch reading...

21 June 2026: Didn't expect Father's Day to hit me the way it has; I'm okay, but it's...hard, especially because of everything going on with my mom. 

Earlier today, I fought off some weepiness by going outside to read on the porch. (Would be weird to sit on the porch in broad daylight and cry.)

Sitting there with my big old Thoreau bio, I realized that wasn't a bad tribute to my dad, who would take his books out to the deck to read, often with Sugie or Snow with him. My girls stayed inside, but one of them wasn't happy about it. 

Saturday phone call

20 June 2026: Grateful for a long-delayed phone conversation today. And to my brother, who facilitated it. 

Left it all on the field...

19 June 2026: Site visit is done. Proud of us and the work we've done. Left it all on the field, as they say. Now we wait. 

And, after I clean up the classroom, I am heading home to crash and try to relax this evening. 

Ready for tomorrow...

18 June 2026: Valerie and I set up a classroom for our site visit for a grant to support the SUWP. The room looks pretty good, considering it's hard to "show" a lot of what our NWP site does. I like this picture, though, based on an idea the third member of our team came up with last week: we asked the teachers in our current Summer Institute to respond to the prompt. They did great. I mean, present company excluded, teacher have great handwriting--but beyond that, their comments are golden. 

Boxcars!

17 June 2026: It's sometimes hard not to feel guilty about doing "fun" things these days, but man, I had a great time tonight at my first Boxcars' game of the season with Carrie and Amy. Perfect night for baseball (even if the home team couldn't pull off a win).

"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.