Thursday


29
Aug 24

The gearing up for fall begins

It was a normal Thursday. I went to work, as one normally does. We stopped by a grocery store for fruit and water. I’d also carried a large bin of cut cantaloupe for the ride over.

Campus is just 15 miles, 25 or so minutes, away. We weren’t stocking up for a journey. So the fruit I cut last night was our in-car breakfast. The fruit tray and water was for our beginning-of-the-year department meeting. It was scheduled to run for five hours, including lunch. The meeting ran five hours, and then just a few extra minutes for the traditional grousing and venting that can occur in any meeting, anywhere in America. It was well plotted and well conducted, then.

The meeting began with a few ice breaker. We were asked to list our favorite movie from when we were younger — which was left deliberately vague in an ad hoc way — and how that impacted us. There were 15 people in the room, but it went pretty smoothly. Here are people who have given this thought, live the sort of examined lives that included this precise question or are pretty good at the ol’ razzle dazzle. Since they stand in front of college students and talk for a living, any of these things, all of these things, are possible.

I said The Princess Bride and Spaceballs, which have each, I suppose, informed an irreverent sense of humor. But, I said, lately I’ve been working on another project, which is to each day incorporate a line from Road House into conversation in a contextually appropriate way. The guy sitting nearest to me, an earnest, high energy, fast talking fellow who gives you the impression that he’s seen it all and came back again, said, “Be nice.”

Later I asked him about the message of his t-shirt. It was a direct reference to a British comedy and, he explained, a direct commentary on …

I’d only just met him, but told him we were going to get along just fine.

Much talking was done. Some writing was done. Advice was shared. People had questions. Sometimes there were answers. Other times, the answers would be forthcoming from other series of meetings. Academia in a nutshell.

And while this was happening all afternoon I received an email from the technology people that my new computer setup was in. I’d previously been told it would take a few weeks to arrive. Now, I’m under a barrage of emails, but it hasn’t been a couple of weeks. So a pleasant surprise. I made an appointment to stop by after the faculty meeting to get the new hardware.

There’s a place setup on campus designed to be evocative of Apple’s Genius Bar and that’s where the hardware distribution is taking place. The people there were perfectly lovely, pre-fall-term enthusiasm is a great vibe. I had a nice conversation with a young man where he came to realize that he could talk to me almost like a person who actually knew what was going on. I am not that person, but I know those people, and I have learned, over the years, the deft art of faking it. I walked out a short time later with two armfuls of things.

I did not sign the first document. I assume that they assume I am me because I knew my password.

And tomorrow I’ll start setting up some of that equipment. It was then, a productive day.

Just one song today, so I can cover the whole week. This is the first track from their 13th studio album which is turning 13 this fall. I mishear the chorus. It might be a deliberate choice because, sometimes I’ve finally learned, those are just better versions for you.

  

(Remember, I was shooting that from a ZIP code away, but the audio is pretty good.)

I take it as share the mood, rather than the moon. You can see why the latter works, but the thing that binds us to other people is the shared moment, of course, and that could be something with or without a celestial satellite. We just need a personal satellite, or to be the one orbiting others, maybe. Probably I’m overthinking this. Probably it’s just always been clunky hearing.

I mean it’s right there in the title of the song. I have the album, of course. I’ve seen Amy and Emily play this song live at least three or four times. Doesn’t matter. What is important is the mixture of what it all brings forward. There’s a certain tiredness, a resignation, in the lyrics, but in that third verse, above, there’s something more fundamentally aspirational at play. And it’s all underpinned by the E, by the mandolin and wrapped up in Lyris Hung’s beautiful violin. Who has not been on that road, going somewhere? Hoping to head to someone?

See? It’s a mood.

But I overthink, which is the prelude to overwriting.

And sometimes the prelude to underwriting, too, if you think about it.

So just a normal Thursday, then.


22
Aug 24

You got a saw? You’re gonna need a saw.

At some point, probably over the weekend while we were gone, we had a tree branch fall from one of the stately old trees on the north side of the property. We noticed it Tuesday. Today I did something about it. This is two-and-a-half sweaty hours distilled into a few words and photos.

It was much worse than this photograph, which I shot from the hip. Mostly because I was about a third or the way done with it at this point.

I was texting with someone and I received a good old-fashioned expression about how things were going for them, which made me want to come up with my own expression. So I was standing there thinking, I’m a lumberjack without a saw … which was both creative, and accurate.

But also inaccurate. I was cutting away the branches from the limbs, only I was using a pruning saw. It’s great for dispatching smaller bits, but becomes physical, quickly, with larger lumber. And as hour two turned into hour three, it became physical. Here’s a part of what I’d cut away, again, about a third of the way through the effort.

Not pictured is the stack of heavier sticks, sitting just behind that pile, that’ll make their way to the fire pit this fall. Also not pictured are my scraped up fingers and bloody knee.

And I still have to figure out something to do with the six-foot-tall pile of sticks and leaves. There’s only so much kindling one needs.

And then there’s the actual limb itself. But that’ll wait until another day, giant thing that it is, exhausted as I was.

Part of my repair was a nice shower and the last fresh-from-the-tree peach smoothie of the summer.

That’s right, when I want another one, I’ll have to go to the freezer and pull up some peaches I’d grabbed earlier this year. Or some of the peaches I grabbed last year.

I was too tired to ride my bike, and I can’t swim with my ear yet. Maybe Tuesday. Maybe Wednesday. So I just sat and looked at the water this afternoon.

And contemplated chainsaws.

Now, it’s coming into the evening. More on that tomorrow.


15
Aug 24

Up in the trees

I probably should have spent my day doing things other than what I did, but you can’t fix that now, can you? You can only blame past-you for mistakes like that. And that guy has no recollection of the problem and, seldom, any remorse anyhow. So there’s no use in that, whatsoever.

I didn’t even do, today, the things I need to do for tomorrow or this weekend until late this evening. It’s been one of those days. But, hey, past-you tells yourself when he is present-you, sometimes you deserve a day like this.

And we all know what those days are like. We all know, even as those days are unique to each of us, what that means.

Anyway, this is coming down tomorrow. The soon-to-be erstwhile pest control company is coming out to take care of this. Mostly because I don’t want to risk it, and we still have this company and it’s their fault, really.

If you read around online, the suggestions for dealing with great big nests like this are to attack in the early morning or evening, be sure of your escape route, and wear a lot of layers.

Oh, I thought up a whole plan for this, but the more I thought about it, “boiling soapy water and run like crazy” didn’t seem like much of a strategy. There’s always close air support, but to drop something on this nest is to also hit the house, so the pest control company gets one last chance to impress here, even as their efforts and attentive eye lead to this basketball-sized condo of 2,000+ stingers.

Speaking of up in the trees, we are coming to the end of the peach harvesting season here at Smith Orchard. This also means we are desperately trying to give more peaches away. I’ve eaten a lot. We’ve eaten some more. We froze still more. Joe the Elder’s wife has been over a couple of times to collect some for them. Then, because she is a delightfully sweet person, she makes us a cobbler. With our peaches. The ones we are trying to foist onto others.

This evening, I took some of the peaches which are turning over for them to share with the deer that live in the woods behind them. In addition to the deer sneaking over whenever they want and eating freely from the tree, they’re now getting about two baskets worth of locally harvested fruit.

Joe the Younger’s family will get some peaches tomorrow. We’ve packed up sacks full for other people as well.

I’ll still have about two baskets to deal with.

But, look, I’m actually picking them off the tree.

This, I maintain, is a positive step. I am not playing catch up, and just picking up the ripe one from the ground. I can be assertive. I took that photo, such as it is, thinking it was the last peach on the tree.

It was not.

There are still quite a few more to go. Peaches can be quite overwhelming.

So you really need to stop by. (They are quite tasty.)

I’m taking a day off the site tomorrow. All will be explained Monday. See you then, and have a great weekend.


8
Aug 24

Nature’s candy in my hand

A friend came over for a visit today. While she was distracted, I put two bags of peaches in her car. A basket’s worth of peaches, right there in the front seat. So this status update isn’t exactly accurate.

We only have five baskets of peaches in the kitchen right now. And I had a giant smoothie. We’ll still have a week or more of peaches to bring in. And a lot of these have to be given away. So, again, come and get some peaches.

By the weekend, we will be hurling them at the neighbors.

Elsewhere, we’re getting rain from the former hurricane in the Gulf. The temperatures have dipped a bit, into the 70s, and it’s been a good day to stay inside and catch up on things.

There are many things on which I am behind. But I am now trimming things off the To Do list, and deleting emails from the inbox. I’m calling it productive.

ANd now I have to go get some more peaches off the ground.


1
Aug 24

New stuff in the routine

At the beginning of each month I do a lot of important and boring things. I create a few new subdirectories for the site. I delete a bunch of stuff from the desktop of my computer. I update a document that holds a lot of standard code shortcuts that I use.

And so on. It is all terribly exciting.

One other interesting thing that I do is update the images on the front page. The rotating photos now feature a small piece of something we saw in California this spring. Head on over to the front page to check those out. It’ll take you 54 seconds for the rotation to carry you through. We’ll be right here when you get back.

My joking complaint about triathlons is that they start too early. We need hobbies, I say, that cost less and don’t start at dawn; if they don’t require too much running, more the better.

So, last night, because the story of this day began last night, as so many of them do, my lovely bride told me that she’d signed up for a super sprint triathlon she found a half hour away. And would I like to go? Also, the race started at 6:30 in the p.m.

Since that was my complaint, it seemed only fair that I should go in support.

Super sprints are short, but I had a long swim the day before, and I haven’t run in a while, so it’s just support, and that’s probably for the better. I’ve done one super sprint, thinking, at the finish line, that I am not able to get everything going in the right direction in those short distances.

Which is a shame, since they are shorter, and I am slow.

But I am a great observer of races. I am well practiced in this area. And, of all of the races we’ve done, I don’t recall having seen one with a flyover.

She’s out there, somewhere. She’s the one swimmer among much of the thrashing. It was just a 500 meter swim, and even then, the water was shallow enough that some of the dudes just stood up in the last 50 or so and waded in.

They all looked gross. This little pond is fed by this, South Branch Rancocas Creek. And it isn’t as nice as you might imagine here. There was a fine black particulate. The Millpond mildew. Something thinner than rubber, and thicker than dust, clung to everything. Whatever was contracted from this event will be given a name in due time.

The bike leg, she said, was nice. Good pavement, fast roads.

  

The run was one big loop. Neither that, nor the bike ride, would wipe away that stuff that latched on to everyone in the water.

When we left, because it was an early evening tri, we timed the sunset just right. I liked it. Almost didn’t take it. But I did, and I’m glad for it.

We celebrated with Chick-fil-A. The triathlon, not that last photo.