Into the Wild Wood and Home Again

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,/ ... And wild plum trees in tremulous white/ ... And not one will know of the war, not one Will care at last when it is done From Sara Teasdale, " There Will Come Soft Rains " Memorial Day, and pouring rain. At least it's not that cold, but the pellet stove is still humming along--it's damp and uncomfortable. For years, when I was in high school, our band marched in parades, but more often, we just marched to cemeteries to honor the dead on Memorial Day. We had a very small band to begin with, and then people would not show up-- but I did. One year, I was up puking all night with food poisoning, but I went. That was the year that, when we figured out how few of us were there for the "parade," I marched beside a tuba and the drums. I played clarinet. No matter, though: we always had one talented trumpet player there to play taps from behind shrubbery. It was pretty moving, regardless. I have military mem...

"When the day of Pentecost arrived, they were all together in one place. And suddenly there came from heaven a sound like a mighty rushing wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. And divided tongues as of fire appeared to them and rested on each one of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance."  ~ Acts 2: 1-4 I wonder how this plays out in our current times. I'd like to think that it is an occasion to speak the truth, the kind of Truth that can burn away all the misinformation, hatred, vengeful words, and hurtful rhetoric that we are surrounded by. The news is full of ugly things being done, the shifting and erasure of what we know to be true, all in the name of creating an even uglier space that is unsafe and unwholesome for everyone. This cannot stand. This practice cannot be sustained.  And it'll be up to us to speak out about what is right and just.  Come, Holy S...

After a really exhausting week (and a super long day yesterday), I slept hard last night, with too many busy dreams. And today, I'm off to Lisbon for a fundraiser for the Sophomore Class. I hope we sell out early, to be honest. I'm supposed to be there from 9-2, but it's cold (though it will warm up), and I'm still tired.  That all said, at least it's sunny. And there will be a middle school softball double header in progress. It could be worse. I do need to find my bug spray-- black flies have entered the chat.  At least it is a "long weekend" and part of what I accomplished yesterday was the pile of grading I needed to get done. So, a weekend without school work --well, after today's thing. We'll be at the Community Field with yard sale and baked goods. If you're local, come on down. It's Lilac Weekend in Lisbon, and there are events, live music, food trucks, and kiddie rides all weekend. Today there is a parade at 11, as well. Most of th...

TWENTY NINE DEGREES.  Ugh. Mother Nature is still in charge. I hope my plants are not all crisped up and frozen. We got the two new honeyberry bushes in yesterday, but G put them in the shed, just in case. Likely, the petunias are a little irritated, but the herbs should be okay. I have not planted basil outdoors yet. This, after several days of 80s and 50s at night. So be it. Today is Senior Defense day-- the seniors all have to do what is basically a form of exit interview. They present their portfolios and discuss the guiding questions, all of which should reflect what they've learned in high school. Not class or course by course, but the overarching things, such as, what is your internal model of good work?  There are nine guiding questions, but they all lead to that sort of thing. And they have to have a slide show (ergg), but their oral presentation is what matters most. I hope they are good; we advisors sit on panels, and we watch/listen, then, after the student is done...

There's a lot going on in my head, mostly I don't share the anxiety, the hurt, the sense of overwhelming cultural devastation, because who can manage that firehose of dread and pain?  So, two things. The Library of America is having a one-hour discussion about Whitman and his political writings (and I ordered the book) online on June 2. The link is here , and it's free to attend. The other thing that I have to offer is a poem by Wordsworth, one that lives in my head: The World Is Too Much With Us The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;— Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have g...

Well, we didn't plant anything after Holly got out of school. She had a project to do with Meg; they made tie-dye shirts. O lordy. I'm glad it was not in my kitchen! I sent over a white tee shirt of mine with a quote from The Secret Garden on it and I told them to surprise me. It'll be fun! (And it doesn't count as another tee shirt, since I used an existing one.)  Speaking of tee shirts, I have an almost embarrassing amount of nerdy tee shirts. Not so many long sleeve, but plenty of short sleeve. Everything from a fairly innocuous "POET" shirt, to quotes from Emerson, Pessoa, and others. And some snarky ones. And some that require you to know something from literature. Take, for instance, the one I wore to work Tuesday: "HWAET!" (We had a dress-up day thing, where I was twinned --well, tripletted- with two others and we wore black tee shirts and jeans.) It's the first word, in Anglo-Saxon, that starts the Beowulf epic. I have a great purple one...