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31
Oct 17

Happy Halloween

I was outside from the car to the building this morning, obviously. And I walked back outside from the building to the car at about 8:30 tonight. And in between I think I only even looked out one window, at one point, late in the afternoon. This is the little slice you see if you’re standing in our television studio:

It is a fancy space. You’re looking east there, so you have a great opportunity at about 9:30 to see some nice early sunlight and then at about 5:20, this time of year, you get this view in the evening. But that was the only view I had today. It was a fairly hectic day.

And I didn’t even see any kids begging for candy. Our neighborhood pretty much shuts down at 8 p.m., it seems. I saw one little clutch as I drove back into the top of the neighborhood, their bags bulging, their makeup running and their blood sugars already soaring, I think they were calling it a night.

So these were the costumes I saw today:

Another crew did our humble little news show this evening, as well:

So Halloween is over. I’m hiding the kids’ candy, you say. Bring on November, you say.

Give me April, I say.


30
Oct 17

I sat inside and shivered

The other day I mentioned that Allie now seems to enjoy our brown blanket. When it gets cold, as it was Saturday, a damp, bitter chill was inescapably everywhere, throughout the day, she decided it’d be OK if I put her under the blanket.

The Black Cat has a hard life, is what we’re saying here.

I managed to tear myself away from other things on Sunday afternoon just as the clouds cleared out and the sun was exposed and the light shift caught the trees. This is a tricky, timed business, particularly this time of year. We don’t have a clear view of sunsets from the yard, but there are a few beautiful moments in the golden hour. So I sit and look out our southern-facing windows and enjoy the dance in the tree line behind us.

Of course I missed the magical moment by about two minutes yesterday.

And how was your weekend?


27
Oct 17

The winter squash whodunit

One of our students was carrying around a pumpkin today. I think it was a home economics exercise. He’s toting around a child cucurbita, or a grandbaby gourd.

(I suppose it could be for Halloween.)

Anyway, he left the pumpkin at the television studio this morning. I could have offered to take good care of the squash plant, but it seemed more fun to hold it for ransom. Pay up, or get him back in (pumpkin pie) slices. Give me what I want or the jack-o-lantern-to-be doesn’t get an ear. Call the veggie cops, and he gets crooked eyes.

I couldn’t even work through all of these puns — and they get even worse pretty quickly — before the student swooped in and picked him up. The cultivar custody caper was resolved.

Some shows the students produced last night. A sports desk show:

And a talk show that they’ll put on the air on Sunday night:

But let’s not get that far ahead of ourselves. There’s still a whole weekend to enjoy.


26
Oct 17

The beautiful trouble of autumn

It seems like that time of year where you try to catalog the changing of the leaves, because they’re pretty, but because you want them to stay. So we’ll do that. Here are a few pictures from campus today:

You can never really capture and preserve and share autumn. That’s the trouble, but it doesn’t keep us from trying. And I’ll keep trying.


25
Oct 17

“Have you seen any . . . Martians?”

I produced a podcast today. Actually I just ran the board for it, but some people use those words interchangeably. They shouldn’t — and I’m on a mission to civilize! — but they do. I simply sat behind an Axia console and made sure the levels were consistent and the computer was recording. I did this because the students who normally do it couldn’t join the production today, so I sat with the dean and his two guests from another part of the university:

And they talked about Orson Welles — Indiana University possesses what is believed to be the most extensive collection of Welles performances — and, specifically, the War of the Worlds. You can hear the show here:

And you can find the whole collection here.

After work there was just time enough for a cold evening run:

I’ve found it takes about three-quarters of a mile to run off the initial chill. I’ve found that there’s a particular dip in the path behind the house where the cold air coming off the creek pushes up out of the trees and drops the temperature by about five degrees. And I’ve found that I can run in shorts and a t-shirt, but I’m going to be using gloves a lot.