Like bison...

30 September 2026: According to Saeed Jones on the episode of Vibe Check that I listened to this morning, folks say that bison walk (or run) towards storms, somehow knowing that they'll get out faster when they do than if they run from them. "If you go toward the storm," he explained, "you can get to the other side instead of being chased by it."

Maybe, he and Zach suggested, this is how we should treat grief. 

Zach noted, "If you go through it, you'll get through it."

"Keep walking," Saeed added.

Walking up High Street, on a morning when my parents had been on my mind, I thought to myself, "Amen"...and kept going. 

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.

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. 

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!

"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.

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.

"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. 

"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.)

"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.  

A moment of delight...

9 January 2026: It hit me this morning on my walk, right by the Shepherdstown Train Station: the Pop Culture Happy Hour "core four" were talking about their 2025 resolutions and it was just so silly and fun. I felt myself smiling and giggling. And there it was: pure delight and happiness. A lightness and even joy. 

This isn't to say I haven't feel delight and happiness in the couple of months, but this particular strain? This particular combination of circumstances (a sunny day, a good walk, podcasters who feel like old friends, and silly laugh)? Just lovely to feel and recognize it. 

Lovely way to say (almost) hello to the new semester. 

"Elephant"

6 January 2026: Traditionally, I listen to New Yorker Fiction Podcast episodes while putting up and taking down the Christmas lights. I don't think I did in November when I put them up for this season, but that was a surreal afternoon. Regardless, I kept the tradition today when the lights came down, listening to Miriam Toews read Raymond Carver's "Elephant." 

What an interesting story this one is! It made me laugh and feel stressed. And then it takes a beautiful turn. And, like everything lately, it made me think of my dad. 

"What the Living Do"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am living. I remember you."

"The Stone"

7 December 2025: 

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

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

When We All Get to Heaven

21 October 2025: I am only one regular episode (and one bonus episode) into this series, but my goodness, it is powerful and moving. It is also, I suspect, precisely the kind of history we need to be reminded of right now.

"You need me, I need you..."

10 October 2025: "There’s something about loving someone else and taking care of someone that makes the hierarchy of the world feel much smaller and more focused—and I do take everything so seriously and I am so engaged—but there’s a relief in coming home and saying, ‘You need me, I need you. Let’s lean in together.’" --Zach Sanders on this week's episode of Vibe Check, talking about his life now that he's adopted a dog. 

Listened to this on my walk this morning and couldn't agree with the sentiment more. It sums up how I feel about having Veronica and Jo in my life. 

"Samantha Smith vs. the Cold War"

30 September 2025: I didn't know anything about Samantha Smith before I listened to this episode of You're Wrong About... today on my walk.  Something about learning about this kid who pushed for peace and understanding--who did what grown-ups wouldn't do--moved me almost to tears on a day in which our president and his henchman declared war on American citizens. 

Pretty sweet Sunday...

20 July 2025: I know I sometimes document days like today--posts that are basically lists of things I did. They aren't the most interesting posts, I know, but for me, they can serve as little snapshots of ordinary but sweet days. So here's one:

I got an early start with a trip to campus (my first in over a week!) to do a little work and (almost more important to me, at least emotionally) water my plants. 

It's pretty cool to be close to the end of my reading for the "Year's Work" essay. My syllabi are coming along well, too. On Friday, I accepted a new role--Coordinator of First-Year Writing--that means a course release for me, which cut that syllabizing work down quite a bit.

Once I got home, I took my walk through the neighborhood. Laughed really hard at an Extra Hot Great episode. 

From there, I was basically inside the rest of the afternoon. (Still pretty hot out there; it's been an intense summer.) I watched some TV (finished You, which was okay) and read a horror novel by a local writer. I'm enjoying it and have about 120 pages to go.

Then Amy and I saw Magdalene, a CATF play. I really enjoyed it; terrific acting, as always, and some cool ideas. From there, we had dinner at King's.

Home now and just finished a phone call with Tim. Bob's Burgers time (it continues to be my comfort show) until some more reading, bath, and bed!

"joyful rigor"

13 July 2025: Another great episode of Vibe Check this week. I loved Saeed talking about the "joyful rigor" of writing. And even segments about shows I don't watch (like Love Island) are still so interesting and fun. 

"Two Men Arrive in a Village"

10 July 2025: Listened to Edwidge Danticat read this Zadie Smith story on the New Yorker Fiction Podcast today while I mowed the lawn. So good and sadly, eternally timely. 

"Tired of Love Poems"

3 July 2025: 

"What we tire of is that we never tire of it.

How it guts us. How it fails, then reappears.

Because what is the bird compared to you?"

Saeed Jones read Megan Fernandes's "Tired of Love Poems" on this week's Vibe Check and I really enjoyed it. That was before the awful news about the dumb bill passing and just more and more awfulness closing in everywhere. 

I read the poem again this evening and I am thinking about it still, glad for the reminder that we never tire of love (even when it is a big risk, when it hurts, or when it ends badly), and that love feeds hope, and both keep us going and fighting.