Well, yesterday was a bad day. One of the weirder things about grief is, as with post-traumatic stress, there aren't a whole lot of reserves of energy, of compassion, of coping skills. One of the truest things anyone has ever said to me, was said to me this week. A friend also going through a terrible time said: I'm fed up with proving how fucking resilient I am.
Me. Too. It's like that old stupid saying about what doesn't kill you making you stronger. Well too many people I love are Hercules for fucks sake and I am tired for us all.
There. Rant over. And I am not really prepared to talk about what exactly triggered the bad day, but suffice it to say that the litany of what is going wrong in my life and in the lives of people I love makes me think someone has been going around sticking post-its on our shirts. They all read hello my name is Job.
Ooooh. Cranky and a Bible reference.
I'm better today. A couple of my students rocked their last working draft, I finally got the information on their final (the school requires all 101s to give the same final and I had NO CLUE until yesterday what it was going to look like), I have two more classes left to teach and then the final exam, and best of all the paper is out, the real estate guide is gone, I got to have tea with a dear friend, and now I am home and the stove is getting warm, I have groceries, I have poems to read, I have no immediate deadlines, and, yes, some time off.
One of the going not so great things is the academic job search. I've gotten a letter and an email saying two different searches have been postponed due to the crappy economy. I think the majority of places I've applied are state schools and since 41 states at least are facing major budget shortfalls, my guess is a lot of jobs are going to go unfilled this year. And competition for the remaining jobs is going to be fierce.
So a plea, and plan B. If you know of any great teaching jobs for a poet, pass them on. And if you have connections at any of the places that are hiring, put in a good word for me please. If you have an amazing plan B, I'd also love to hear it. For example, I could really use a benefactor. I'm inexpensive to keep and if you know someone with a lot of money and a need for a major infusion of karmic capital, well feel free to offer me up as someone's good deed.
I can't keep doing what I'm doing. This has become really quite clear.
Plan C involves taking all my savings, buying camping equipment and guide books and dried food and hiking boots and a ticket to Georgia in the spring so I can walk the Appalachian Trail home.
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
not much news
I decided no whining, so I haven't been blogging much. Yesterday I developed a weird eye twitch and it lasted for almost 24 hours. Of course I googled and discovered that twitchy eyes are usually caused by fatigue, eyestrain, stress, or sleeplessness.
Or maybe all of the above.
So I put out the real estate guide and went to bed at 9:30. No reading, no grading, no watching a movie, no playing on the computer. Today the eye is better, so I got up at 5 to grade, taught, worked, and tomorrow we put out a huge paper. They will all be big-ish between now and the end of the year.
But I got some good stuff out of the library, I have a draft to work on, and once I finish teaching and doing office hours Thursday, I'll have a three-day weekend in which to rest, eat, sleep, write, read and generally play.
Plus I made rice pudding so I have delicious breakfasts for awhile. My recipe involves brown rice, plain soymilk and/or soy cream, a tiny bit of sugar (a teaspoon or so) and vanilla. Cook the rice in the milk (you can use plain old cows milk if you want) slowly on the stovetop adding more milk/cream if it gets too thick until the rice is just barely not crunchy any more. (If you want a more creamy pudding, cook the hell out of it). After it cools a little, add chopped dried fruit (I added cranberries, golden raisins, dried blueberries, and dried cherries) and chopped or slivered almonds (or other nuts). This is my favorite winter breakfast reheated in the microwave.
Variations include using cinnamon and/or cardamon instead of vanilla, or doing it the Greek way with lemon, or doing the really custardy version with lots of eggs and in the oven. Mostly I like the nutty, textury flavor of this version.
Or maybe all of the above.
So I put out the real estate guide and went to bed at 9:30. No reading, no grading, no watching a movie, no playing on the computer. Today the eye is better, so I got up at 5 to grade, taught, worked, and tomorrow we put out a huge paper. They will all be big-ish between now and the end of the year.
But I got some good stuff out of the library, I have a draft to work on, and once I finish teaching and doing office hours Thursday, I'll have a three-day weekend in which to rest, eat, sleep, write, read and generally play.
Plus I made rice pudding so I have delicious breakfasts for awhile. My recipe involves brown rice, plain soymilk and/or soy cream, a tiny bit of sugar (a teaspoon or so) and vanilla. Cook the rice in the milk (you can use plain old cows milk if you want) slowly on the stovetop adding more milk/cream if it gets too thick until the rice is just barely not crunchy any more. (If you want a more creamy pudding, cook the hell out of it). After it cools a little, add chopped dried fruit (I added cranberries, golden raisins, dried blueberries, and dried cherries) and chopped or slivered almonds (or other nuts). This is my favorite winter breakfast reheated in the microwave.
Variations include using cinnamon and/or cardamon instead of vanilla, or doing it the Greek way with lemon, or doing the really custardy version with lots of eggs and in the oven. Mostly I like the nutty, textury flavor of this version.
Monday, December 01, 2008
Crass consumerism
Virgin ask in the spirit of the season, what 10 things you'd buy for yourself with unlimited funds. Well, here goes:
1. A new car. Nothing flashy or fancy. A new Honda CR-V, hybrid if they'd get off their butts and make one. Maybe a cute little Suzuki SX-4. Something 4 wheel drive and economical and fun.
2. I wanted to say a bank. But that seems like a bad bet these days.
2.5. A house on a lot of land. With an orchard. Apples, peaches, pears. Land for berries—raspberries, strawberries, blackberries, blueberries. Enough land and fruit for all my friends to build houses and eat berries and fruit.
3. Another house. Near an ocean. In a different part of the country. Small and spacious and open to the breezes. Maybe the outer banks, Okracoke. Nova Scotia. Catalina. Or the west of Ireland. Or Skye. Isle of Man. Hebrides. Orkney.
4. First editions of every book of poems I love. Or maybe just a really good bookstore. Yeah, I'd buy myself a bookstore.
5. Since we're buying impossible things, I'd buy yet another piece of land and endow it for ever as an animal sanctuary. Lots of land to roam, food, warm beds. I'd also make it a people sanctuary. Because dogs need humans. And humans need animals. And everybody should have a place to go for awhile. It would also be a working farm, so there would be honest work to be done, hay for the horses, milk from the soybeans, moos from the cows. And writers would always be welcome to come and stay and wander around muttering with the rest of the mad and abandoned.
6. A drawing that hangs in the Kuntzmuseum Dusseldorf. I call it Ruins of a Gothic Church. I don't know if it has a real name. Or who drew it. And some more paintings by Grier, since I'd have lots of places to hang them.
7. Apple Computer. Not an apple computer. The company. But I'd totally let them do their own thing. They are way smarter than I am about all of it. But I would get the coolest toys. First. And unlimited downloads at itunes.
8. Forget the bookstore. First editions of all the books I love and the Boston Public Library. Because I like to share.
9. Huh. Books, dogs, homes, something to drive. I'm out.
So what would you buy? Can you make it all the way to 10?
1. A new car. Nothing flashy or fancy. A new Honda CR-V, hybrid if they'd get off their butts and make one. Maybe a cute little Suzuki SX-4. Something 4 wheel drive and economical and fun.
2. I wanted to say a bank. But that seems like a bad bet these days.
2.5. A house on a lot of land. With an orchard. Apples, peaches, pears. Land for berries—raspberries, strawberries, blackberries, blueberries. Enough land and fruit for all my friends to build houses and eat berries and fruit.
3. Another house. Near an ocean. In a different part of the country. Small and spacious and open to the breezes. Maybe the outer banks, Okracoke. Nova Scotia. Catalina. Or the west of Ireland. Or Skye. Isle of Man. Hebrides. Orkney.
4. First editions of every book of poems I love. Or maybe just a really good bookstore. Yeah, I'd buy myself a bookstore.
5. Since we're buying impossible things, I'd buy yet another piece of land and endow it for ever as an animal sanctuary. Lots of land to roam, food, warm beds. I'd also make it a people sanctuary. Because dogs need humans. And humans need animals. And everybody should have a place to go for awhile. It would also be a working farm, so there would be honest work to be done, hay for the horses, milk from the soybeans, moos from the cows. And writers would always be welcome to come and stay and wander around muttering with the rest of the mad and abandoned.
6. A drawing that hangs in the Kuntzmuseum Dusseldorf. I call it Ruins of a Gothic Church. I don't know if it has a real name. Or who drew it. And some more paintings by Grier, since I'd have lots of places to hang them.
7. Apple Computer. Not an apple computer. The company. But I'd totally let them do their own thing. They are way smarter than I am about all of it. But I would get the coolest toys. First. And unlimited downloads at itunes.
8. Forget the bookstore. First editions of all the books I love and the Boston Public Library. Because I like to share.
9. Huh. Books, dogs, homes, something to drive. I'm out.
So what would you buy? Can you make it all the way to 10?
Sunday, November 30, 2008
My cleanest dirty shirt
Sunday. Gray. Winter storm coming. Not snow, but sleet, rain, freezing rain, ice. To do list: clean house, put away travel stuff and clean laundry, make rice pudding, iron work clothes, hem 2 pair of pants, go to work for the money job, grade papers, write peer review guidelines for class, bring in a lot of wood so it won't be wet, hike with dogs, clean at least one room, make soup for suppers this week, meet friend for dinner in town (weather permitting), write something, send at least 3 submissions out, update AJS calendar to see what is coming up next.
Whew. Am I ever glad Sunday is a day of rest.
Whew. Am I ever glad Sunday is a day of rest.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Home again
Arg. I think shotgun season for deer just opened. Which adds a little spice of anxiety to any hike these days. Maybe we'll stick to the roads and brave the killer donkey and unleashed neighborhood dogs instead of loaded men with loaded guns. (Yes, among the many forms of flora and fauna in the neighborhood, there is a very cranky donkey who is rarely fenced and has charged out onto and then across the road to quote unquote investigate us.)
I'm thankful for this season for a lot of things, including the going and the coming home. And Trader Joe's. And friends who send Trader Joe's gift cards tucked into symathy cards.
I'm a hoarder. I've talked about hoarding music so I always have something new. Well my friend Six knew how much I love TJs and did send a generous and lovely card in a sympathy card months ago. I hoarded it. I knew that there would come a day when about the only thing that would console would be stopping at the store and filling a few bags and being able to swipe a card. She knew that there is no TJs close to me, but there is one on the way back to my house from New Hamsphire. And she knows full well how going back to the parental home with a parent missing has become really, really difficult (she lost her mom around Christmas a year ago).
So on the drive back, I pulled in and got busy. It isn't a very exciting list, unless, of course, you are me, but the TJs treats included bags of brown basmati rice, smoked tofu, dish soap, vitamins (chewable, in a little bear-shaped container), crumpets, pita chips, olive oil, raw almonds, spinach tortillas, goat-cheese gouda, and soy milk. Luxuries include a jar of cranberry-apple butter, lemon crisp cookies and of course the must-have chocolate covered pretzels. I wish six were here right now, watching the fire burn, drinking hot tea and munching on the best pretzels on earth with me.
Is it wrong to want all my friends to live in the same area, to know each other, to love each other as I love all of them? I know it is a dream, but the scattering is hard. As much as I love the phone and the internet, I love the people fact-to-face more and I miss them all.
One of my if-I-won-the-lottery scenarios is a huge piece of property in a great place so all my friends could build vacation or year-round cottages on the land and we could drop in on each other all the time and cook for each other, and babysit and spend time talking and laughing and being together but still each have a place to retreat to when we need or want. Kind-of like a year-round writers' conference. Huh.
I'm thankful for this season for a lot of things, including the going and the coming home. And Trader Joe's. And friends who send Trader Joe's gift cards tucked into symathy cards.
I'm a hoarder. I've talked about hoarding music so I always have something new. Well my friend Six knew how much I love TJs and did send a generous and lovely card in a sympathy card months ago. I hoarded it. I knew that there would come a day when about the only thing that would console would be stopping at the store and filling a few bags and being able to swipe a card. She knew that there is no TJs close to me, but there is one on the way back to my house from New Hamsphire. And she knows full well how going back to the parental home with a parent missing has become really, really difficult (she lost her mom around Christmas a year ago).
So on the drive back, I pulled in and got busy. It isn't a very exciting list, unless, of course, you are me, but the TJs treats included bags of brown basmati rice, smoked tofu, dish soap, vitamins (chewable, in a little bear-shaped container), crumpets, pita chips, olive oil, raw almonds, spinach tortillas, goat-cheese gouda, and soy milk. Luxuries include a jar of cranberry-apple butter, lemon crisp cookies and of course the must-have chocolate covered pretzels. I wish six were here right now, watching the fire burn, drinking hot tea and munching on the best pretzels on earth with me.
Is it wrong to want all my friends to live in the same area, to know each other, to love each other as I love all of them? I know it is a dream, but the scattering is hard. As much as I love the phone and the internet, I love the people fact-to-face more and I miss them all.
One of my if-I-won-the-lottery scenarios is a huge piece of property in a great place so all my friends could build vacation or year-round cottages on the land and we could drop in on each other all the time and cook for each other, and babysit and spend time talking and laughing and being together but still each have a place to retreat to when we need or want. Kind-of like a year-round writers' conference. Huh.
Friday, November 28, 2008
I'm in New Hampshire. Thanksgiving was good in that nobody fought, nobody melted down, and the food was good. The first major holiday without my Mom, so it was also very, very hard. Today we had breakfast out in a cold, rainy morning. Me and the boys—my 8 year old nephew and my 82 year old stepfather. Last night the boy and I built Legos. He is totally crazy about Legos—loves the big, complicated projects.
I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving.
Today I have to find a post office, run some errands, stay away from anything remotely resembling a store. My sister, on the other hand, was at Wal Mart at 7 this morning. One store opened at midnight, one at 4 a.m. Ahh, the taste of desperation.
I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving.
Today I have to find a post office, run some errands, stay away from anything remotely resembling a store. My sister, on the other hand, was at Wal Mart at 7 this morning. One store opened at midnight, one at 4 a.m. Ahh, the taste of desperation.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
Prezzies
I have a whole list of care packages/presents that need sending. A. List. Not 1. Not 2. Two is not a list. I've already sent 3 and still there is a list. My goal is two a week. Saturday, I sent two. I'm not telling to whom. Ha. So, you know, watch your mailboxes people. Who knows. By January I might get through my list and your name might be on it.
Yesterday I bought myself presents. Start with the Best New Poets 2008. My friend Morgan is in it and Mark Strand picked the poems. Reason enough. I also bought two books of poems that I had borrowed from libraries and renewed and renewed and must shortly send back but I don't want to and so I bought them. Then I went on to the library system and ordered up 5 or 6 more books of poems I want to read before I consider buying. It feels like Christmas is coming early.
Not coming early enough is the new pair of winter boots I ordered from L.L. Bean. They should arrive today along with the snow. My old boots are older than some of my friends and both my dogs. I've had them for more than 20 years. They still keep me warm, but the soles are worn slick and that is a tad problematic.
Send good thought to my friend Six today. She is having a lot of knee trouble and it is keeping her from training and making her anxious and cranky. She heads back to the doctor today, so hope for a speedy cure. Because, and I'm no expert, I'm pretty sure doing a triathalon would be tricky with only one good knee.
Yesterday I bought myself presents. Start with the Best New Poets 2008. My friend Morgan is in it and Mark Strand picked the poems. Reason enough. I also bought two books of poems that I had borrowed from libraries and renewed and renewed and must shortly send back but I don't want to and so I bought them. Then I went on to the library system and ordered up 5 or 6 more books of poems I want to read before I consider buying. It feels like Christmas is coming early.
Not coming early enough is the new pair of winter boots I ordered from L.L. Bean. They should arrive today along with the snow. My old boots are older than some of my friends and both my dogs. I've had them for more than 20 years. They still keep me warm, but the soles are worn slick and that is a tad problematic.
Send good thought to my friend Six today. She is having a lot of knee trouble and it is keeping her from training and making her anxious and cranky. She heads back to the doctor today, so hope for a speedy cure. Because, and I'm no expert, I'm pretty sure doing a triathalon would be tricky with only one good knee.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Funny
I got home from work today and it was a whopping 31 degrees and I actually thought—hey, a heatwave! Then I went hiking. Funny how several days of temps in the teens and twenties can make 31 feel warm. I didn't wear a hat. Then I did some yard work until the light gave up, then I came in.
I'm working on a draft. Yay.
I was talking tonight with a friend who also heats with wood and lives fairly remotely and we were talking about how finally, with daylight savings gone, and temperatures down, we become happily interior creatures. We write more. We read more. It gets dark by 4 or so here, so there are all those hours of darkness before bed to read and write and do projects and feed the stove to keep yourself warm. After our frantic summers, it is a pleasure to give up the outdoors and come in.
Tonight I used those hours to organize all my teaching materials—by unit, by class, by administrative vs teaching tools vs actual syllabi. All in tidy folders and tidy piles. This is the compulsive in me coming out. And the darkness. And the being indoors. We still have almost a month in which the darkness increases, and then the long slow climb out of November and into daylight again.
I think one thing Obama could do to stimulate the economy and freak people out is to toss out the old agrarian school calendar and send kids to school in the summer when we wouldn't have to heat the buildings, and shut the schools for half of December, January and February. What if the school year began in March and ended before Christmas?
Plus I am a firm believer in the four-day work week. We could shut those office buildings down for three days in a row and save tons of money on heat and air conditioning. And for parents, what kind of a blessing would it be for you to have a day off to get stuff done when your kids are in school? Of course teachers wouldn't have a four-day week, but they get those lovely winters off, so they can't really complain.
I'd love to teach over the summer and have the short winter days off. I hate going to work in the dark and coming home in the dark.
I'm working on a draft. Yay.
I was talking tonight with a friend who also heats with wood and lives fairly remotely and we were talking about how finally, with daylight savings gone, and temperatures down, we become happily interior creatures. We write more. We read more. It gets dark by 4 or so here, so there are all those hours of darkness before bed to read and write and do projects and feed the stove to keep yourself warm. After our frantic summers, it is a pleasure to give up the outdoors and come in.
Tonight I used those hours to organize all my teaching materials—by unit, by class, by administrative vs teaching tools vs actual syllabi. All in tidy folders and tidy piles. This is the compulsive in me coming out. And the darkness. And the being indoors. We still have almost a month in which the darkness increases, and then the long slow climb out of November and into daylight again.
I think one thing Obama could do to stimulate the economy and freak people out is to toss out the old agrarian school calendar and send kids to school in the summer when we wouldn't have to heat the buildings, and shut the schools for half of December, January and February. What if the school year began in March and ended before Christmas?
Plus I am a firm believer in the four-day work week. We could shut those office buildings down for three days in a row and save tons of money on heat and air conditioning. And for parents, what kind of a blessing would it be for you to have a day off to get stuff done when your kids are in school? Of course teachers wouldn't have a four-day week, but they get those lovely winters off, so they can't really complain.
I'd love to teach over the summer and have the short winter days off. I hate going to work in the dark and coming home in the dark.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Roundup with weather report
Today it was bitter cold—12 degrees when I woke up, never warmer than about 20 with a bad wind. We hiked anyway, idiot that I am, and the wind blowing across the dam actually gave me freeze-brain.
I'm not kidding. I got the exact same flash headache you get with ice cream, only without all the yummy goodness.
If I could have this weather on demand, I'd test it as a cure for migraines. Which will only make sense to anyone who follows the literature. Otherwise, chalk it up to general madness.
It is supposed to warm up to 30 tomorrow and then snow all week. Including the night before and morning of Thanksgiving.
Letting the woodstove bake an apple is a great idea. I think I may spend the winter seeing just how much can be cooked in a woodstove. And I may have to invent a special class of cookware—nothing that would melt in the oven, stuff that would keep the ash out and withstand occasional direct flame. Basically tinfoil. Really sturdy tinfoil.
Now that I'm in C. Dale's caption contest, I am totally and completely stumped for my first caption. I predict a swift, graceless exit.
Owls keep coming up in drafts lately. What is up with that?
I decided to try to get all the books of poems nominated for the National Book Award from the library and read them. So far, I did one.
I'm not kidding. I got the exact same flash headache you get with ice cream, only without all the yummy goodness.
If I could have this weather on demand, I'd test it as a cure for migraines. Which will only make sense to anyone who follows the literature. Otherwise, chalk it up to general madness.
It is supposed to warm up to 30 tomorrow and then snow all week. Including the night before and morning of Thanksgiving.
Letting the woodstove bake an apple is a great idea. I think I may spend the winter seeing just how much can be cooked in a woodstove. And I may have to invent a special class of cookware—nothing that would melt in the oven, stuff that would keep the ash out and withstand occasional direct flame. Basically tinfoil. Really sturdy tinfoil.
Now that I'm in C. Dale's caption contest, I am totally and completely stumped for my first caption. I predict a swift, graceless exit.
Owls keep coming up in drafts lately. What is up with that?
I decided to try to get all the books of poems nominated for the National Book Award from the library and read them. So far, I did one.
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