Monday


15
Sep 25

‘Four years (prostrate) to the higher mind’ is doubly ironic

This is quick, because I am doing class prep. We’re reading two stories in Criticism tomorrow. In Org Comm we’ll be talking about the very important and incredibly interesting definitions of communication. It’ll probably be the slowest week in that class for the semester. You need baselines for everyone, though, because there are students from multiple majors and it’s important to make this approachable. Next week will be more fun, this week is definitions.

That’s what I’ll tell them tomorrow.

And there’s also my online class, which is new. Three new classes to wrangle, every week, between now and December. It seems like a lot to me, but I’m gamely going to try.

And that’s why this is quick.

For some reason, even on a mild day, the irrigation systems out in the fields look refreshing. This was part of an easy 20 mile ride on Saturday afternoon. It was one of those days where I set out to go this way, got halfway there, and then went that way instead. It was a good day for that.

Sure, it was right out of the neighborhood and then a mile and a quarter down to the stop sign. There, instead of going straight, I turned left. We go this way sometimes, but I don’t do it often when I’m on my own. It’s an up and down thing, and then you cross a busy intersection — if you can catch the light — and go by the warehouses that they’ll never finish building or fill with inventory. Down to the river, and back up through some farm land and you can keep going down that road, where you’ll eventually run into a town, and the big river, and have to change directions, or you can turn early. This is what I did today. There are two or three roads that you can turn onto that will lead you back to another road that can point you home. But we rarely cut those short, and so it’s a guess: Is this a road that crosses over to the highway, or is this a road that dead ends in a corn field?

And so I’m going down this side road, hoping it is an in-between road, trying to remember if I remember it or not. The features don’t really help. It feels right, but not distinctively so.

Then, the road bends to the left, and forks to the right. This is where a white Cadillac decided to pass me in a slow and unsafe way. (Thanks for that, young person driving your grandparent’s Caddy … ) She went left. I went right, and I was rewarded with distinctive features. I was on the road I wanted, a double tree-lined affair that was quite and pleasant and demanded you sit up and go slow — which wasn’t a problem for me.

Eventually, I ran into this sign.

If you turn right, you’d go this way, and wind up down at the river, or someplace.

If you turn left, you wind your way to another tributary, but the highway which will take me back toward home.

I stood there and felt the sun and listened to the wind for a few pleasant, long minutes. It was the perfect time of day in a lovely little place and I had it all to myself, all of it. And maybe that’s the reason we should ride bikes.

OK, here’s the last clip from last week’s show. Four, from me, is a pretty decent amount of restraint. Anyway, because they’ve been at it for four decades now, the Indigo Girls obviously have to play the hits. And they’ve long established their most mainstream number as a regular big finish. It got a lot of people in the door, and those people won’t let you leave without it.

(I wonder how long a show would be if they played all of everyone’s favorites. We already wound up taking a late train out of town, and they didn’t play all of my favorites this time. They can’t play them all. They should play them all.)

Anyway, the regulars are counting songs and they know it’s about to come and OK, everybody sing along. And also here’s three-time Grammy Award winner, and holder of Four CMA awards, Jennifer Nettles, to help us out too.

  

I hope we get to see them again next year.


8
Sep 25

Week two, what it do?

We are now starting week two of the term and in another week or so, he said foolishly, everything will settle and click into place.

Also, the first things to grade are filtering in this evening.

The good news is that every day this week is more or less scheduled. Reading today, class tomorrow, grading tomorrow and Wednesday, class on Thursday, meetings on Friday. Maybe the better news is that the work of preparing for the week is all done. So it’s just a matter of seeing it through! Seeing the whole week through.

Here’s a weekend neighborhood sunset. I was coming back from picking up takeout.

We had Indian. I enjoyed the lamb vindaloo. Quite tasty. Not as plentiful as it was, before shrinkflation hit. Previously, this would have been dinner and lunch. Now it’s dinner, and about one extra bite — which means just a little more dinner.

Here’s a road I rode on this evening’s bike ride. The road just goes up and up.

Or just up. But not even that. It’s flat here, and after that curve you pretty quickly get to the overpass and that’s the big geographical feature. I probably couldn’t climb a real hill anymore if I tried. (I did the one climb in Switzerland this summer, the tot de splitsing, a hot, slow, grinding mess. One mile, 500 feet, danger at every pedal stroke. The danger being, Can I stay upright at this low a speed? So maybe I can still do one hill. Not sure I could do two…)

Phoebe doesn’t not have much faith in my climbing abilities, either. She’d rather put her head on the underside of a foot than see me struggle up a proper hill.

And Poseidon, well, he’s a fan of going to higher up places.

There are a few things in my home office that I don’t want him on, which of course demand his immediate and perpetual attention. We have the same disputes three or six times a day. But, this weekend, I had that big bin on the floor, and the basket full of towels and sheets, and I think I’ve found a way to keep him off the bookshelves.

So the cats, you can see, are doing great. But only if they get their required amount of pets this week. We’ll see.


1
Sep 25

Happy Labor Day

Welcome to September. And to fall. And the semester. Anything else? Everything else. And so long summer. Except for the second summer, which is here for a time. Second summer, a mild, brief, way to overwrite the memory of the heat wave and the sweats you didn’t ask for. Quite, slow and mild, give me three or five months of 70s and 80s and I’ll be ready for spring. In this way we can also overwrite the season that actually offends in favor of a sequence of days and weeks and months of weather just like this. Who needs a winter anyhow?

Sometimes it’s easy to miss a subtle joy of spring, overlook an earnest day of summer, or the calm and thoughtful afternoon of fall for dreading what comes next. It’s a shortcoming; being aware of it doesn’t solve the problem. I guess one day I should find ways to enjoy the winter.

Thinking of it somehow just highlights the problem.

I mean, here I am, going on and on about that on a perfect mid-year day, the beginning of a beautiful September, which was hearkened forth by the beautiful end of August. A day which, just a bit ago, I was outside watering plants, covering the grill, and counting my blessings: health, a peaceful day, a delicious dinner, and so on. Everyone should have those things.

This was the view from the backyard, while the grill was going.

And while we had perfectly made steaks, we also enjoyed our own fresh-grown okra. Took all season, and we got one large meal out of the yield. Worth it.

Today, being the first day of the month, means cleaning the computer, updating some files, building new subdirectories, and so on. One of those little tasks is tracking the site data. August, for some reason, had the most visits in the 21 years of the website. I don’t know why people keep coming back, but I’m glad they do.

And also the bots, I suppose, but I appreciate the people more. So thanks for being here.

We had a bike ride with Miles, the neighbor, on Saturday. They dropped me near the end, but I took this shot 30-some miles.

Ours was a morning ride, which is unusual. Especially after the fact. There was a full day still to go. There are so many things to discover about early mornings. Rediscover, actually. I did morning drive for about a decade and, years later, I am still revolting against the notion of early alarms.

I went for a solo ride this evening, a much more normal time for a bike ride, if you ask me. And no wonder, look at these views. This is some farm land not far from the house. I wonder if they put in any okra this year.

I missed the perfect shot here as I pedaled along, but there is also a little cut out in the treeline, and I knew it was coming. So I framed up the sun. Not a bad composition for off-the-hip soft pedaling. Just staying upright and getting close to the photo you want is sometimes a thing. Putting the sun between those trees in the foreground and the trees in the background, simultaneously? That’s real talent.

Along that same road, the tree, the moon, the chip and seal.

And just over that hill is a beautiful old swayback Appaloosa, enjoying dinner.

You wonder if horses ever look at sunsets. You wonder what they think about when they do.

Classes start tomorrow. Guess I better figure out what I’m going to talk about, huh?


25
Aug 25

Relax, my back

I wrenched my back out of whack. Exercised it out of whack, to be more precise. Doing planks on Thursday night something didn’t feel perfect. And doing planks on Friday it got my attention. Well, this weekend my back decided it liked the attention and so now here I am.

It’s fine. I can move. I can carry things. I just can’t bend over and straighten up cleanly at the moment. But I am developing this technique where I move my hips forward and press up beneath them. That seems to work. Still, last night I said, Would you mind filling the cats’ water bowl? because, really, why get down there if you don’t have to.

Tonight I’ll try a bit of a painkiller and maybe I’ll sleep the whole thing away!

But, hey, I can sit comfortably in most any position, which is great, since I devoted just about the entire weekend, it seemed, to class prep.

I am working on my last class now, which is great since the semester begins in eight days. But now I have a secret weapon. This class is a class my lovely bride teaches, and she is, of course, coming through in a big way. We stand on the shoulders of giants.

Anyway, I am working on populating the Canvas shell now. I understand the structure of the class. I know all but the most specialized of the material. I’ll gain proficiency in that in the days to come.

The other thing I did this weekend was hear from the cats. They wanted their regular Monday slot back, and who am I to argue the point, especially when I have no real reason to delay them. So we’ll move right into the site’s most popular feature, our weekly check in with the kitties.

There is no cat in the world that relaxes harder than Phoebe, and you can’t convince me otherwise.

And when she’s not relaxing, or giving you the opportunity to pet her, or demanding that you pet her, she has a wonderfully playful streak. It doesn’t really come across here, but she’s studying and playing with the light beams and or the dust motes in the afternoon sun.

Poseidon, god of the TPS reports, has been dutifully checking in on my work progress. Things are moving along at their best possible speed, Poe.

I’m sure he’s done this before. And probably I’ve seen it and don’t recall, but the other night he slipped under the ottoman. And it wasn’t just that he got there, but how quickly and easily he got in there.

So that’s a new hiding place to look for him, I guess.

If he had opposable thumbs we’d really be in trouble.

OK, now to take a tip from Phoebe and go relax.


11
Aug 25

21 years, 7 million … and counting

Last week marked the 21st birthday of the website. (And you didn’t get me anything!) I didn’t say anything because I knew, from my handy spreadsheets, that this week we’d break seven million visits to the site. These things should be acknowledged together, and just once.

So let me simply thank you. I appreciate your being here. I don’t know why you keep coming back, but I’m glad you do. Thanks for that, too.