She's At It Again

Anya has a book of reversible poems that she enjoys perusing from time to time. This weekend, while sitting in the kitchen listening to the Moth Radio Hour--I had it on while cooking dinner--she doodled a few reversible poems of her own.

Her other doodles made reference to a $2,000,000 poker jackpot.

Word of the moment: juxtaposition.

October Weekends

As usual, October is whizzing by far too fast.  I want to spend my time lingering over tea and going out for long walks in crisp air and then coming home to curl up in the living room in front of fires or movies with my family and cooking and knitting up a storm...

That's my ideal October. My actual October is filled with blue books and meetings and classes and commuting and hassles.  It includes Saturday morning cleaning and grocery shopping and kid anxiety over assignments and ripping out a knitted gift project in order to start over. Again. 

But somehow, on the weekends, I do manage to squeeze a little bit of that October magic into my life.  Even if I do have to fit it around grading blue books.

Fall in New England just might be an argument for heaven.

This is what happens...

...when Anya sits in the kitchen doodling while NPR is on.

Facing the Tidal Wave

Today at work was nonstop: a meeting about a new grant, followed by my 100-level class, followed by an office hour trying to find answers for a student planning to study abroad next semester, followed by an upper-division colloquium, followed by a department meeting, followed by work on the train. All "free" moments were spent checking on, answering, and organizing emails. Somewhere in there I ate soup.

Until 6:30, when I moved my laptop off the dining room table and put on Julia Nunes while throwing together my part of "leftovers for dinner" and waited for my son to get back from karate.  We settled down to a candle-lit, un-fussy meal and I heard about the kids' days. At one point, I leaned on my husband and soaked in the goodness of life--this family that I come home to at the end of a long day, meeting together around the table my brother made with his own hands.

I am fortunate to have (mostly) interesting and meaningful work. But in October--that most beautiful of months in New England--that work gets really busy, really fast.  It's this crazy little family that keeps me from losing it altogether. They sustain me.

And so tonight I will relax with them. Tomorrow, again, I will put forth my best effort to make our little corner of public higher ed meaningful for both students and faculty alike. 

There are worse ways I could spend my time at 50.