Into the Wild Wood and Home Again

The yo-yo of night-time temps: today, I woke up to 49 degrees. Which is notable, not only because the last few nights have hovered around 34, but that yesterday's high was 50. So be it. And it's officially autumn, the equinox having passed while we were busy being cold and damp. Thank goodness for the pellet stove.  I likely will not light it today; G wants to do a thorough cleaning (he's been "meaning to" since June), and I hope he does that tonight after dinner. Cooler days are with us, but the forecast is for days in the 60s, so we'll manage anyhow if he doesn't do it right away. He's got to replace the door seal, too, so it'll likely become a project.  Today, after work, I'll be cutting up tomatoes. Not the green ones; those are still on the vine. And the squashes are still hanging in there. And I hope they continue to do so, because I have other forms of house chores to attend to, and I managed to get a touch of Holly's cold, so I feel...

Heaven help us, 'tis 34 degrees, friends. I need to find some old tablecloth to cover the squash--not that there's a lot of hope, but I have a couple of mini-butternuts (yeah, about the size of a double shot glass), and a couple of four-inch zukes out there. G says we should rescue the rest of the green tomatoes, but there aren't that many. Which, to be fair, is a good thing-- Meg, Holly, and I went out and picked all the ripe ones, found a good bit of green beans, and snagged a few apples. I want to make a pie later today. But, because we don't spray our trees, there is a little more effort required in order to cut off the bruises and bug/bird nibbles. No matter, it'll warm the house up. G says that he'll fill up the pellet stove today for a test run. I think that's a good idea; let's make sure it works, eh? ugh. The woes. It's getting old, but we've replaced various (all?) of the parts here and there. In the meantime, I have a new plaid fleece ...

It'd be really difficult to deny that autumn is upon us, regardless of the calendar. Foggy mornings, chill temps, and bright sunny afternoons are all lovely. But sad, too. I really need to gird myself to go out to the garden boxes and consider what to keep and what to let go.  I suppose there's a metaphor in there somewhere, but I'm not pushing for it. I'm tired. School and home chores and so on-- that's enough to occupy my mind and energy lately. There's so much I want to get done, but it would require some help, so I will likely try, metaphorical hat in hand, to see if there's any chance of Meg helping me do some of the things. She's got her own list of stuff to contend with, so I hate to ask. But tomorrow, when G is home, the weather is supposed to be just awful-- mid-50s and pouring rain. Not a good day to do anything much except bake and grade papers, and yell at football (of course).  It always makes me sad to see the garden go. I had such plans. I...

If you know me, then you know I have an astounding collection of nerdy/sarcastic tee shirts. Mostly short sleeve, but some long, so today, as it's "casual Friday," there should be no surprise anywhere for anyone I'm wearing one of my stellar assortment. (And before you say, hey, there's a lot of ego there, let's just say, one must fake it 'til they make it, and these shirts help.) Today's offering: Em-dash energy-- Oxford comma values. And I can pretty much guarantee that NO one will know what it means. And that it pretty much sums up the contradictions (complexity?) that is me. Whitman would approve: "I contain multitudes." It galls me that one of the so-called "tells" that people use to assert that something is AI-generated is the use of em-dashes. Dang it all. I love those. And I use them.  My brain likes to interrupt itself, and when I'm writing -- and speaking, but you can't see them if it's a spoken sentence-- I in...

I woke up with " Losing My Mind " from Follies in my head. I have no clue why. Just the last two phrases on repeat, actually: All afternoon Doing every little chore The thought of you stays bright Sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor Not going left Not going right I dim the lights And think about you Spend sleepless nights To think about you You said you loved me Or were you just being kind? Or am I losing my mind? And before anyone thinks there's trouble in my personal little paradise, there isn't. It's bigger than that, I think. Reading about forklifts ramming the columns at the Kennedy Center to inflict intentional damage, to justify the stranglehold that is being enacted on the institution and, by extension, all of us, is enough to make a person question their sanity.  The arts keep us alive. They recount the trials, tribulations, loves, sorrows, and aspirations of the Collective. And here's one Philistine kicking over a sandcastle not of his makin...

The night-time temps are on a yo-yo string. This morning's temperature was almost 20 degrees warmer. Weird. I really should go browse the garden and see what needs picking. If anything. The tomatoes are waning down, but there may be green beans. And I am still nonplused about the silly squash plants. They are beautiful plants, had gorgeous blossoms... but nada production. I'll figure that out today, perhaps. There may be one or two tiny ones hiding under all those leaves.  I am tired this morning, too--entirely my fault--I've gotten really hooked on the show on Britbox I wrote about the other day, Monarch of the Glen . It's delightfully silly and sweet. I have never watched so much television as I have this last year or so-- I think it's the fact that it provides me with a real antidote to the sturm und drang cesspool that is our daily lives as seen in the news.  It's hard to compartmentalize, isn't it? I look outside at the sky (overcast today, so far), s...

Quick note. It's chilly. 35 degrees this morning. And I woke up with the strangest mash-up running through my head: "The Tango Maureen" from Rent, but rewritten in my brain as "Cellblock 13"-- don't ask, I don't know.  Yesterday, I wrote a fairly lengthy poem, once again involving my complicated relationship with my now-dead mother. And this morning, I got an email that said one of my prose poems is long-listed for an award. I won't win, more than likely, but hey, it's on the list. Kinda cool. So maybe my brain is finally percolating with poems?  O yeah, I also got asked to speak to a Rotary luncheon about my work and how it is being an author. I asked to be put on the June schedule. It'll take me about that long to figure out how to answer the question.  Have a super day, C

Ah, Monday. You found me.  Holly got the first week of school cold. Poor bean is home sick today.  I graded a pile of essays yesterday. While I want them handwritten, why did every single kid go with pencil on white paper? Hard going. I'm going to request pen.  Most were not awful. Some were. We have work to do today.  Some of the kids who need to hear what I'm going to talk about are on a two-day field trip. Figures, eh? I have work, errands, house cleaning on my agenda. I bought one of those long-handled Swiffer 360 dusters. I'm going to battle the cobwebs. I won't win the war, but I might make things a little less festooned with grey swaths of dust and filament.  I like that phrase. Remind me to use it in a poem.  Have a good day, friends. The world is scary, and our leaders don't seem to mind that they are chaos engineers.  God help us all.  C

Temps are much warmer today (56), but it's pouring rain. Again. And yes, we probably do need it, but gee whiz. I wanted to go to the farmers' market. We'll see if this weather pushes off. If not, so be it.  I've been immersed in a fun series on BritBox called Monarch of the Glen . It's funny and sweet, and, for those of us of a certain age, it sort of has Newhart vibes. At any rate, it's a pleasant diversion, of which we all have a real need, I think. Among its engaging cast is an actor that I know from Shakespearean plays, chiefly Much Ado About Nothing . Richard Briers plays the "old laird" MacDonald, and he's spot-on: funny, curmudgeonly, endearing. There are seven seasons, so I'll be set for a bit.  Today, though, I have a stack of essays to grade. Likely some will be fine, others will be iffy, and I know there are a couple that are going to be heavy lifting (metaphorically speaking). My Brit Lit crew is not the most energetic or enthusias...

Saturday, and it was a long "short" week. Mostly, school stuff was fine. Home stuff was generally fine (though the dust around here is ridiculous-- that'll be dealt with as soon as I can). Already, I spent the morning doing minor but necessary chores: who has three bottles of juice well past expiry in the back of their fridge? ugh. I cleaned and organized the fridge-top freezer, too. There are far too many ice packs in there, leftovers from when I was packing Holly's lunch last year. I think some will migrate to her house. Not much to toss there-- found an ancient frozen burrito that got the pitch, though. And I have ideas about stewing down a couple of chicken carcasses-- maybe not soup, but chicken and biscuits for Sunday dinner. And I can freeze some chicken broth from the process as well. That's always a nice thing to pull out of the freezer to make rice or gravy. And I did some dishes by hand (some things just can't go in the dishwasher), diced more tomat...

Twenty-five years ago, our world changed. Moreso here in the United States, but globally as well. The terrorists targeted two symbols of American "strength"-- financial and military-- and struck at the heart of what the nation seemed to hold nearest and dearest. Some would say that they hit at symbols of hubris; and in some ways, that makes sense. Western civilization has always trended toward patterns of domination, and other cultures and the earth itself has paid the price, over and over again. That corrective, if we want to call it that for sake of argument, worked to bring people together, to unite in ways that hadn't been experienced in ages. But it also served as a means of division; this new-found cultural unity, if it was that at all, left out whole segments of society, and anti-Muslim hate has continued to flourish and even be applauded by people in the highest elected places of our society. But yet, a nation that supported the terrorists is now a "most favo...

After a wet and chilly day yesterday, it's kind of odd (and welcome) to wake up to 65 degrees-- it warmed up overnight. These are the days when you just are not sure what to wear to work.  Disappointing evening of Boston sports, eh? ugh. Still, the Sox are not dead yet, and the football season just started. Hope is a hard commodity to come by, but hey, what else do we have? School is trundling along-- a lot of kids out sick, field trips galore over the next couple of weeks, and I am grateful I do my planbook in pencil. We'll manage. It's just a bit upending. Kind of daily.  And so it goes, eh?  Holly has a book order for us to fill out! I miss the days of coming home with the flimsy paper form from Scholastic. So what did I do? Went online to the site to order books, and let's just say, I shopped. The prices are crazy good, and there was a deal for an extra book for free if you spent 35.00. So, I did. I ordered a lot of level one readers. She's ready to read, and fr...

Wednesday.  It's going to be a long, long day-- I will be staying at work til 3 (staff meeting), then home to race around and see if there's any practical anything I can get done. Patriots start the season tonight-- why a Wednesday? Who knows?-- at 8:20. I suspect I'll maybe manage the first half. Rude. It's a work night. Don't the programmers know that? Sigh.  OK, enough whining. That webinar last night was atrocious--promised a lot, delivered very little, and was a full hour infomercial about their training program. Damn. I will not be wasting any further time on that nonsense tonight or Thursday.  Holly's first day went well, other than her tripping over the thresh-hold into the school. Whups. She's fine, had a super experience, and today will go easier, I believe. It's awesome Meg was home to oversee day one and two. Tomorrow, Tim will have to solo shot the morning, and I'll pick her up. We'll get this routine down soon enough.  So, you might...

Yesterday was pretty great, and I got a lot of small chores done. I got to hang out with Meg and Holly for a lot of the day, too. I did not get out to the garden boxes, though, and I really need to. Maybe this afternoon after work? I hope so.  In the meantime, today is: the day we celebrate the Virgin Mary's birthday the day we vote in NH primaries the day Holly starts her new school We'll need your prayers, good thoughts, blessings, and whatever else you can throw at us for all of these things.  O yeah, it's picture day at school, too. Ugh.  And I have an online webinar tonight. Maybe ugh? I hope your day is a treasure box of good things. Hugs all around, C

Up early, even though it's a day off-- I have fed the sourdough starter (bread later!), and banana nut muffins are in the oven. It was 43 degrees when I got up, and it's going to be a lovely late-summer day. Temps should rise to mid-70s. I have a few projects to get into (cleaning Holly's den corner, baking cinnamon bread), but other than that, I'm going to coast as much as possible.  I stayed up way too late last night chatting with Meg and watching Notre Dame football. They won. Handily. And earlier in the day, the Sox swept the Orioles, and it was another good game. G is back to work today, so the housework will be a little less. I know, that sounds mean, but dude wears his "don't worry, they're clean" shoes everywhere in the house. And thus, sand. I will sweep today, and it'll stay swept for a bit. That is a small win.  I have a full week ahead, even though it's a four-day work week. Tomorrow, we vote in the primary. And it's picture da...

Song: Simple Gifts (ft. Yo-Yo Ma and Allison Krauss) Rainy/damp start to this Sunday. I'm glad we don't have plans to go to the fair or any other outdoor-specific stuff. It's supposed to be nice later on, though, so G can likely finish the woodshed and put the first ton of pellets under cover. We'll be getting two more, but not until November-- they are backordered. But we are on the list, so we'll get 'em. The price on pellets is relatively stable, but omg the price of heating oil is horrid. We got the tank topped off the other day, and it was 5.65.9 (why can't they just say 5.66?) a gallon. Ugh. To hear over and over again that the "conflict" (war) in the Middle East is "small potatoes" and to be told that someone in a high place just won't believe that all of this upheaval is disrupting people's lives/ wallets is so irritating.  Nothing is safe, eh? Food, medicines, transportation, costs of basic needs... it goes on and on and...

I seem to be picking up the serious, melancholy, and thought-provoking in everything lately. G and I went to see an amazing production of Putting It Together , which strings together Sondheim lyrics (no spoken dialogue the entire show), and traces the inner workings of two couples' relationships set in a somewhat fraught "party." The voices at Weathervane are amazing, and Sondheim's lyrics and the score are always a little tinged with danger, sadness, and what I'd rather call the sound of the human condition. That said, if you are local and without something to do right away, go see it. They are only doing four shows.  What was particularly show-stopping, for me, was when Marisa Kirby (she's a powerhouse) nailed " Could I Leave You" from Follies. Breathtaking. And thought-provoking; relationships, especially long-standing ones, are never all hearts and flowers. There's a lot of incidental, accidental damage that happens, too. Where you go from t...

It's finally Friday, and it's been a really brain-draining week. I'll get used to the mental load, but this week, I've been particularly tired. My eyes are tired, too, which does not help a whole lot. That all said, hooray, we made it! And tonight, G and I have theatre tickets to see what is essentially a Sondheim review. I'm excited.  And hey, the Red Sox pulled out a win. What with changes to the lineup and key players getting on the injured list, we're limping into September. And so it goes, most years.  The national/international news is fraught with horrible things, each day getting more and more dystopian. Usually, we can turn to literature to see how people survive this sort of thing. If they do. I can't find too many inspiring stories, and that's troublesome, as well. I wonder what the literature of these times will look like? I mean, what comes after dystopian literature? There's apocalyptic, but sheesh, no one makes it out of that situation...

Finally, a day when the sophomores were talking. Woo! And the juniors in APLit are doing well, too. Maybe we've found a rhythm?  And it's rainy. And it's still summerish. Tomatoes are still producing, I have to check on the late beans, I have to snip herbs, I have to hope that there's some squash in the tangle (though I dunno what's up...lots of blooms, not a lot of fruit, even though they are right next to the bees). No beets. A few carrots. A few cukes, though they went ball-shaped again. The garden is looking tired, and I have to admit, I understand it completely. So am I. Still, there is a three-day weekend coming up, and the reset that I need will happen. I say will, not might. I want to bake some bread, I want to work on my book, and I need to sort out some clothes in my closet. Work clothes for warmish weather-- in other words, put away the super casual summer stuff, the stuff I didn't wear but might have, and bring to the front all the things I can wear ...

Finally, I got up at the time I should, and I have a few minutes of grace to collect myself before catapulting out of the house. Getting back into the school-time routine takes a bit, especially now-- I'm not young and full of zip. I'm older, and really wishing I could just hang out and drink coffee and watch the birds. It's unfortunate that those who can afford to do jack-squat with their adult lives are plotting to raise the retirement age again. I wish them dysentery.  Anyhow. We move along with Grendel and Chaucer and so on with the Brit Lit kids. A few talked yesterday, so I'll count that as a win. AP Lang is a lot more fun; those kids are fun to be with, they get stuff pretty quickly, and they talk.  Yes, I want students to talk. I am not in the biz to pontificate. I want to know, first hand, what they see, what they question, what they are confused by. Sitting like a group of avocadoes in the rows is no help to anyone.  And you'd think I'd welcome some qu...

 We went to see Coyote vs. Acme last night. I expected to laugh, but I didn't expect--and truly appreciated-- the more serious points that the movie made. Yes, there was the usual zany Looney Tunes stuff, but the why behind all of the physical damage to the cartoon characters is what underpins the film. The movie makes a stronger point about how the "little guy" (average citizen) is just training ground for large corporations, that the damages are part of the process, to secure safer/better things for those with more power and influence.  Wow. Social commentary. Go see it.  And on another, sadder note, the poet Wendell Berry has died. His poem "The Peace of Wild Things" has been an anchor poem for me for a good many years. A kind, gentle, environmentalist-farmer-poet who saw the world around us as a gift to be treasured, to be comforted by-- he will be missed immensely.  Have a good day, friends. I'm behind my time yet again. Ever have one of those days wh...