Today I will start a chapter that I'll send off to some other "scholars" who are writing about service-learning and composition. It's part of the deal for academics; we teach and write. My project with the After Breast Cancer group was a good one. It resulted in a book that I just did the final edit on yesterday. The article I wrote about the project is under review, and if I can stop blogging and get the chapter done, so too will it be part of my tenure portfolio.
But what about the book I'd like to write? I don't really know what it would be. If autobiographical, the plot line would be: Catholic Jersey kid leaves home at fifteen, moves West, then East, then West, then East, marries, has children, gets divorced, gets doctoral degree. Wow, that's exciting! Maybe if I put in the part about the clown business I had . . .
Maybe I'd write a book about a boy who builds a spaceship and goes to Mars and finds out that Mars is full of people and stuff . . .oh wait, that's a Belle and Sebastian song.
I know, I'd write a book about the dark, dirty underside of school politics in a small central New York village, where missing money leads to murder and then it turns out that . . .oh wait, that's really happening in Clinton. Well, not the murder part, yet.
You know, when I really think about it, I don't want to write any of that stuff. Maybe writing scholarship isn't so bad after all. My friend Prisci says she can get me work writing porn, but I'm sure I won't do that until after tenure.
What would your book be about, if you could write any book at all?
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Dirty Little Secrets
Mikey says my blog is getting boring; Lu says I need to be more hard-hitting. Last night, the idea of posting dirty little secrets came up. Wow, what a great idea for my tenure year! Thanks Lu. Also, thanks for the critique guys because for the first time in a long time I have writers block, and I can't thing of a thing to post that could be interesting. Sure I had some good ones: for example, "Oooh, How Do You Like Your Eggs?". Now that idea seems kinda lame.
Maybe I should make up something. I could use this blog to reveal the truth that Alicia and Catherine have different fathers (ala Graham Swift's last novel, Tomorrow, which sucked) and see how long it takes them to read their own mother's blog. Don't tell, okay?
Think about it; they don't look alike at all, do they? I mean besides the fact that they both have mustaches.
So, I'm adrift with nothing much to say unless I get started on the whole Michelle Obama needs to leave me along thing. I could put something threatening in this post and see how long it takes for the Secret Service to show up outside my door.
There it is, my post! I'd like to hear from you about how many emails you're getting from candidates. I'm hearing from Barack, Michelle, Joe, Dennis, and some guy named Jon I've never heard of. Not just once, mind you. I'm hearing from Michelle (I call her Shel) all the time now, and Barack just sent me a video clip. I hope it's the Real Burnouts.
You hearing from anybody? Left or right, I don't care, let me know. What's the most ridiculous one you've gotten so far? Mine is still "Did you see Michelle on TV?" from Barack. Is this an American Idol campaign? I wanna get an email from his campaign that spells his name wrong. Whatchu got?
Maybe I should make up something. I could use this blog to reveal the truth that Alicia and Catherine have different fathers (ala Graham Swift's last novel, Tomorrow, which sucked) and see how long it takes them to read their own mother's blog. Don't tell, okay?
Think about it; they don't look alike at all, do they? I mean besides the fact that they both have mustaches.
So, I'm adrift with nothing much to say unless I get started on the whole Michelle Obama needs to leave me along thing. I could put something threatening in this post and see how long it takes for the Secret Service to show up outside my door.
There it is, my post! I'd like to hear from you about how many emails you're getting from candidates. I'm hearing from Barack, Michelle, Joe, Dennis, and some guy named Jon I've never heard of. Not just once, mind you. I'm hearing from Michelle (I call her Shel) all the time now, and Barack just sent me a video clip. I hope it's the Real Burnouts.
You hearing from anybody? Left or right, I don't care, let me know. What's the most ridiculous one you've gotten so far? Mine is still "Did you see Michelle on TV?" from Barack. Is this an American Idol campaign? I wanna get an email from his campaign that spells his name wrong. Whatchu got?
Friday, August 29, 2008
Mikey, ooooooooooooooooooooh!
Please tell Catherine that Missy wants to move in with her. She'll know what that means.
Kisses,
MNYAGG
Kisses,
MNYAGG
It Could Have Been a Brilliant Career
Yup, that's my theme song this week. I guess the first week of teaching has left me a little melancholy. As I look out at my students (all freshies, very nice)I can't help but wonder a few things. When you're in graduate school, you think little about the future because you're busy trying to survive the minute. But now, five years later, I have to stop and think about what's what. So I spent the summer writing some pretty smart stuff, now I'm back to helping people start their college writing careers. Daunting responsibility? No. Slightly depressing? Not really. But that starting at square one can be a bit deflating.
Thank goodness for humor. One of my students wants to be called Chocolate Thunder. He'll be fun. One came up to the table and took my coffee mug. Ouch! Both classes respond a lot, good. One class responds too much, okay. I'll be fine.
I have a reading next week at the Tramontane Cafe in Utica. I have two new poems and I like them both. I read with fun, smart people, and there's an open mic, so if you're in the area get out your guitar, zither, whatever and step up to the plate.
So now that this week's over, what has been your theme song? Has it been some ironic, funny song like mine that pokes fun at the whole idea of a career? Has it been some sappy ballad because you're so in love? Has it been a rap song about booty (Mikey I know you wanna spice up my blog, so respond)?
My song is out there on the Internet if you want to hear it. Right now I'm listening to Jens Lekman sing about Nina and his lesbian "girlfriend" situation, and you can just let me know what you're listening to, if you want.
I gotta take my melancholy self to the backyard with my mower, so let's hope when my three hours of homeowner bliss are done they'll be some encouraging comments. BTW Mikey, my blog is not getting boring. You're just not getting it.
Thank goodness for humor. One of my students wants to be called Chocolate Thunder. He'll be fun. One came up to the table and took my coffee mug. Ouch! Both classes respond a lot, good. One class responds too much, okay. I'll be fine.
I have a reading next week at the Tramontane Cafe in Utica. I have two new poems and I like them both. I read with fun, smart people, and there's an open mic, so if you're in the area get out your guitar, zither, whatever and step up to the plate.
So now that this week's over, what has been your theme song? Has it been some ironic, funny song like mine that pokes fun at the whole idea of a career? Has it been some sappy ballad because you're so in love? Has it been a rap song about booty (Mikey I know you wanna spice up my blog, so respond)?
My song is out there on the Internet if you want to hear it. Right now I'm listening to Jens Lekman sing about Nina and his lesbian "girlfriend" situation, and you can just let me know what you're listening to, if you want.
I gotta take my melancholy self to the backyard with my mower, so let's hope when my three hours of homeowner bliss are done they'll be some encouraging comments. BTW Mikey, my blog is not getting boring. You're just not getting it.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Did You See Me?
That was me running in Clinton yesterday at about 4:30. I wasn't breaking any records by any means, but I was out there, water bottle in hand, enjoying a little run after my last back injury. Enjoying, you say? Well, sort of. That brings me to today's topic -- why run?
1) Even when I think I'm in good shape, running reminds me that I've far to go.
2) Even though I walk a lot, running reminds me that things are actually somewhat loose and jiggly.
3) Running evokes comments from people, like the mother of a young child who said "yes, she's running!"
4) Running is horrible in so many ways that it feels great when it's done.
5) Running enables me to avoid conversations with other locals, when I need to stop chatting and get down Kellogg Street.
6) Running is fast, compared to walking, and therefore ends quicker.
7) Running makes me sweat, and that's probably a good thing.
8) Running renders me incapable of thought. Sure, I can remember not to cross a busy street, but I can't worry about tenure, or what that black thing hanging on the side of my house is, while running.
9) Running is in line with my leftist, liberal agenda. I hope someone out there will dispute this one.
10) Running lets me think I can run away from scary dogs (scary students) if I need to.
I should say that this running thing isn't really new for me. I used to run 3 miles a day, six days a week. Then I took up walking, and I thought I would always be a walker. Maybe taking up running again will put me in a walker, but a lot of doctors advise their "back patients" to run. Today, my spine says "good girl!" Who knows, tomorrow, it might say "are you crazy? You're too old to do this again!" If you think I'm nuts for starting up again, let me know. If you run, or like running, let me know.
This post isn't really about running, though; it's about questions. I know that some of you out there have expertise to answer some questions. Some are things I've been wondering about; some are things I probably should know; one isn't even really my question. So, here goes:
1) Why aren't all plants perennials?
2) What is CSS, and how can it be used (this one's for Clark)?
3) What happens to bulbs when we plant them in fall? I mean what really happens?
4) What does the average Canadian really think about nationalized health care? It might be an American issue soon.
5) Why doesn't everybody have a favorite Belle and Sebastian song?
6) How do I know whether to cover shrubs or not?
7) Is the Internet a good "place" to educate people? Moopy, I'm expecting a response to this one.
8) If you used to live here, why did you leave central New York?
9) What's the best way to bake bread in a bread machine? I'm getting out the Breadman this weekend, and I've been less than successful thus far.
10) What color should I paint my house?
If you know the answer to any of the above, let me know. Gotta go get ready for work and see if Carlie's jumping around too much from those chocolate covered coffee beans.
Peace to everybody; peace for everybody.
BTW, former Factory Times people, a name change is being talked about. What do you think about that?
1) Even when I think I'm in good shape, running reminds me that I've far to go.
2) Even though I walk a lot, running reminds me that things are actually somewhat loose and jiggly.
3) Running evokes comments from people, like the mother of a young child who said "yes, she's running!"
4) Running is horrible in so many ways that it feels great when it's done.
5) Running enables me to avoid conversations with other locals, when I need to stop chatting and get down Kellogg Street.
6) Running is fast, compared to walking, and therefore ends quicker.
7) Running makes me sweat, and that's probably a good thing.
8) Running renders me incapable of thought. Sure, I can remember not to cross a busy street, but I can't worry about tenure, or what that black thing hanging on the side of my house is, while running.
9) Running is in line with my leftist, liberal agenda. I hope someone out there will dispute this one.
10) Running lets me think I can run away from scary dogs (scary students) if I need to.
I should say that this running thing isn't really new for me. I used to run 3 miles a day, six days a week. Then I took up walking, and I thought I would always be a walker. Maybe taking up running again will put me in a walker, but a lot of doctors advise their "back patients" to run. Today, my spine says "good girl!" Who knows, tomorrow, it might say "are you crazy? You're too old to do this again!" If you think I'm nuts for starting up again, let me know. If you run, or like running, let me know.
This post isn't really about running, though; it's about questions. I know that some of you out there have expertise to answer some questions. Some are things I've been wondering about; some are things I probably should know; one isn't even really my question. So, here goes:
1) Why aren't all plants perennials?
2) What is CSS, and how can it be used (this one's for Clark)?
3) What happens to bulbs when we plant them in fall? I mean what really happens?
4) What does the average Canadian really think about nationalized health care? It might be an American issue soon.
5) Why doesn't everybody have a favorite Belle and Sebastian song?
6) How do I know whether to cover shrubs or not?
7) Is the Internet a good "place" to educate people? Moopy, I'm expecting a response to this one.
8) If you used to live here, why did you leave central New York?
9) What's the best way to bake bread in a bread machine? I'm getting out the Breadman this weekend, and I've been less than successful thus far.
10) What color should I paint my house?
If you know the answer to any of the above, let me know. Gotta go get ready for work and see if Carlie's jumping around too much from those chocolate covered coffee beans.
Peace to everybody; peace for everybody.
BTW, former Factory Times people, a name change is being talked about. What do you think about that?
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
I Like the Java Jive and It Likes Me
I've been thinking a lot about coffee since yesterday. My financial adviser, who is responsible for keeping me out of the poorhouse (and we all know there isn't even a poorhouse anymore) came over last night and declined a cup of coffee. He said he'd had about nine cups already. Nine cups! Yet he seems so calm.
I love coffee. I had my first taste of this luscious beverage when I was about nine years old. Mrs. Murphy said "you won't like it," but, oh, she was wrong. I remember the cup and saucer it was served in, white with yellow flowers, even though the cup contained only a few small sips. I don't know when I actually started drinking coffee, but I know I've consumed it for a long, long time.
Mrs. Murphy made the strongest coffee I've ever tasted. While the label on the coffee can says one tablespoon per cup, my mother uses one "scoop" per cup and adds an extra scoop "for the pot." I can't tell you precisely how big these scoops are, but they result in some high-powered coffee. Imagine people from NJ jacked up on coffee. Yikes!
When I was married, my husband liked his coffee weak (I could say like his women here, but that would be ridiculous), and when the Murphy clan came to visit they would politely ask that I make a pot of stronger coffee. My coffee must have seemed like, well I don't know, dishwater, pisswater, you fill in the blank here.
Now I make really strong coffee, but there's a catch; it's half decaf. My doctor told me last year to reduce stress, so I "cut" my coffee. It's a crappy street version of real coffee in some ways, but with it I can close my eyeballs for more than one second at a time. And I can shut up too, sometimes.
Which leads me to my question of the day. What's your coffee history? Or, how do like your coffee? If you don't drink coffee, tell me about your favorite beverage, hot or cold. Right now I'm sitting here with a cup of half-decaf laced with nonfat half and half. What are you drinking? Whatchu got?
I love coffee. I had my first taste of this luscious beverage when I was about nine years old. Mrs. Murphy said "you won't like it," but, oh, she was wrong. I remember the cup and saucer it was served in, white with yellow flowers, even though the cup contained only a few small sips. I don't know when I actually started drinking coffee, but I know I've consumed it for a long, long time.
Mrs. Murphy made the strongest coffee I've ever tasted. While the label on the coffee can says one tablespoon per cup, my mother uses one "scoop" per cup and adds an extra scoop "for the pot." I can't tell you precisely how big these scoops are, but they result in some high-powered coffee. Imagine people from NJ jacked up on coffee. Yikes!
When I was married, my husband liked his coffee weak (I could say like his women here, but that would be ridiculous), and when the Murphy clan came to visit they would politely ask that I make a pot of stronger coffee. My coffee must have seemed like, well I don't know, dishwater, pisswater, you fill in the blank here.
Now I make really strong coffee, but there's a catch; it's half decaf. My doctor told me last year to reduce stress, so I "cut" my coffee. It's a crappy street version of real coffee in some ways, but with it I can close my eyeballs for more than one second at a time. And I can shut up too, sometimes.
Which leads me to my question of the day. What's your coffee history? Or, how do like your coffee? If you don't drink coffee, tell me about your favorite beverage, hot or cold. Right now I'm sitting here with a cup of half-decaf laced with nonfat half and half. What are you drinking? Whatchu got?
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
It has begun!
As I was pulling on some flannel pajama pants this morning, I decided I'd write about summer's end, yet again. I want to say that I love autumn. My birthday always occurs during peak foliage season, and when I was growing up I thought the whole foliage thing had been designed for me. Now I'm older and I know that it was designed for me. Seriously, autumn, fall whatever you call it is my favorite season, and I know it's here in central New York by some welcome (and some not-so-welcome) signs. Since fall is election time, I'll combine the two and come up with a list of how I know it's fall and election time:
1) I was pulling on flannel pj's at 6:30 this morning.
2) When Linell and I walked yesterday, red leaves scattered the lawns of some yards.
3) I have 25 Barack Obama posters in my car (anybody want one?)
4) In my inbox this morning were messages from my new friends, Michelle and Joe. When Joe first wrote me the other day, the salutation read "Murphy".
5) I got out my rake to rake up some grass trimmings and left it out because I'll be using it on leaves soon enough.
6) I put on a sweater (cotton) to sleep in last night because I couldn't find any winter pajamas.
7) Some democrat is giving a speech in Denver every time I turn on the tv.
8) I am avoiding the tv (and radio) because of 7 above.
9) Related to 6, I'll be getting out my winter clothes this weekend.
10) As I write this, I'm sitting under two blankets, still wearing said sweater.
I can't tell whether I'm complaining about autumn in this list or not, but I know I'm complaining about the election. I am so sick to death of the whole thing that I can understand why people don't vote: they're just too tired by November. One of my friends said that we really have to work hard between now and the election, and I understand that. But I just wish it were done.
Well, I feel better now. I can concentrate on going to work to teach 44 freshpeople and make them smarter and make the world a better place. I just added the last part because I like people to think that's what I do. If anybody out there wants to share observations about autumn, the election, or anything else, please do. How do you know it's turning fall where you live? Do you like it? How about election years? Do you think they're exciting? Joe and Michelle, you're out of this one. I think we know how you feel.
I'm still looking forward to peace group retort suggestions. Thanks, Jess; you're a hoot. As for the restayouse, whatchu got?
Peace Out Y'alls
1) I was pulling on flannel pj's at 6:30 this morning.
2) When Linell and I walked yesterday, red leaves scattered the lawns of some yards.
3) I have 25 Barack Obama posters in my car (anybody want one?)
4) In my inbox this morning were messages from my new friends, Michelle and Joe. When Joe first wrote me the other day, the salutation read "Murphy".
5) I got out my rake to rake up some grass trimmings and left it out because I'll be using it on leaves soon enough.
6) I put on a sweater (cotton) to sleep in last night because I couldn't find any winter pajamas.
7) Some democrat is giving a speech in Denver every time I turn on the tv.
8) I am avoiding the tv (and radio) because of 7 above.
9) Related to 6, I'll be getting out my winter clothes this weekend.
10) As I write this, I'm sitting under two blankets, still wearing said sweater.
I can't tell whether I'm complaining about autumn in this list or not, but I know I'm complaining about the election. I am so sick to death of the whole thing that I can understand why people don't vote: they're just too tired by November. One of my friends said that we really have to work hard between now and the election, and I understand that. But I just wish it were done.
Well, I feel better now. I can concentrate on going to work to teach 44 freshpeople and make them smarter and make the world a better place. I just added the last part because I like people to think that's what I do. If anybody out there wants to share observations about autumn, the election, or anything else, please do. How do you know it's turning fall where you live? Do you like it? How about election years? Do you think they're exciting? Joe and Michelle, you're out of this one. I think we know how you feel.
I'm still looking forward to peace group retort suggestions. Thanks, Jess; you're a hoot. As for the restayouse, whatchu got?
Peace Out Y'alls
Monday, August 25, 2008
Peace Group Retorts
So, as I said yesterday, I'd like to hear some retorts I could use to the top three negative "shout outs" my peace group gets at our Sunday vigil. You can send as few or as many as you want. You can consider peaceful replies, or just tell me what you would say if a passing motorist said any of the following:
1) I love George Bush!
2) Get a life!
3) Go home!
I also encounter various hand/finger gestures and facial contortions, but those are too hard to describe in writing. So help me out with some snappy replies, will ya? Whatchu got?
1) I love George Bush!
2) Get a life!
3) Go home!
I also encounter various hand/finger gestures and facial contortions, but those are too hard to describe in writing. So help me out with some snappy replies, will ya? Whatchu got?
Sunday, August 24, 2008
This one's for Z: a collaborative post
Today I'm asking my friend Daryl to help me with a post called "Ten things We Miss About Our Friend Z". Let's see if she can figure out who posted what about her. Here goes:
1) I miss the way Z smells, always great.
2) I miss the way Z always makes sure I take a break for coffee.
3) I miss having coffee with Z.
4) I miss Z's parties at her house.
5) I miss Z calling me darling.
6) Without Z, I have no friends whose first names begin with Z.
7) Six was lame. I miss Z because she is worldly and funny, and as you can see from six, not all of my friends are.
8) I miss Z because she's such a good sport.
9) I miss Z because now there's nobody to say "bon Appetite" when we're out to dinner.
10) I miss Z because she always assumes I know more math than I actually do.
So Z, if you're reading this blog, now you know that we miss you ten different ways, well maybe even more. See if you can guess which one of us is which, post-wise.
For the rest of you out there, tomorrow I (Pat) am going to ask you a favor. Every Sunday I do a peace vigil with my peace group (the Mohawk Valley Peace Coalition). Sometimes folks say less than supportive things as they drive by instead of honking for peace. Tomorrow I'm going to reveal three phrases that have been yelled at us and ask you what you would say in reply.
So tune in tomorrow,
Peace
1) I miss the way Z smells, always great.
2) I miss the way Z always makes sure I take a break for coffee.
3) I miss having coffee with Z.
4) I miss Z's parties at her house.
5) I miss Z calling me darling.
6) Without Z, I have no friends whose first names begin with Z.
7) Six was lame. I miss Z because she is worldly and funny, and as you can see from six, not all of my friends are.
8) I miss Z because she's such a good sport.
9) I miss Z because now there's nobody to say "bon Appetite" when we're out to dinner.
10) I miss Z because she always assumes I know more math than I actually do.
So Z, if you're reading this blog, now you know that we miss you ten different ways, well maybe even more. See if you can guess which one of us is which, post-wise.
For the rest of you out there, tomorrow I (Pat) am going to ask you a favor. Every Sunday I do a peace vigil with my peace group (the Mohawk Valley Peace Coalition). Sometimes folks say less than supportive things as they drive by instead of honking for peace. Tomorrow I'm going to reveal three phrases that have been yelled at us and ask you what you would say in reply.
So tune in tomorrow,
Peace
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Last weekend of freedom, well of something, or welcome to your tenure review year
So, Alicia Billman is gone, having jetted back to Portland, OR yesterday, and I'm all alone with Missy, the compulsive paw licker. Today I am making resolutions that involve Missy, my career, relationships, you know the sort of stuff we do because change is on the cards, as Stuart Murdoch says in the song . . . can you name that tune Mikey?
Here are the things I want to do better:
1) pay more "real" attention to Missy. She knows that she is often competing for my attention with the computer, phone, etc. So I'm going to make an effort to have real quality time with her, whatever that means
2) pay better attention to my students' blog comments on my comp blog. I really didn't utilize the blog the way I wanted to last time, so this time it becomes a vigorous part of the class
3) for those of you who are already bored with my lame resolutions, here's one: get down and boogie. I'd like to take a movement-oriented class of some kind. It doesn't have to be dance, just something that's not walking that can get me in a room with some other people who are also tripping over their own feet
4) since I'm serving on a new committee at work, find time to devote to the other committees on which I serve. This will be tricky, but anyone in academe knows committees make the world go 'round
5) get a digital camera and take my own pictures for a change. Those pics I put up this morning? Yeah, I stole them off the Internet.
6) OMG, of course I have to add "keep up with my blog"!
7) this one's for later on: use my happy light every day in the morning. Vitamin D absorption is difficult to come by here, so pills and lights are a must for those who don't drink milch (there, you learned the German work for milk)
8) should I keep up with my German theme and say that I'll finally take that German class I've been talking about for four years? No. Why? Because I'm gonna buy a digital camera, and I'm too cheap to pay for a German class. Es tut mir Leid, but that's the way it is. Wouldn't it be cool if the government would give us all free language lessons? And new cars? And digital cameras?
9) call my mother when I say I'm going to call, not the next day. The thing is, I get busy on the weekends (I just realized how that sounded). My mom has caller ID and call waiting now, and her phone announces who is calling, so I can't use the "I tried to call but the line was busy" tactic I tried once, okay twice.
10) continue in my progress at being a good life partner. Unless you don't know me at all, you know that I'm a really uncompromising person sometimes. I'm going to be . . .jeez, I don't know what I'm going to be, but it's going to be better.
So, now I don't have to make any New Years' resolutions, but I should resolve to look at these on January 1st to see if I've progressed at all. How about you? Anything you'd like to resolve?
Here are the things I want to do better:
1) pay more "real" attention to Missy. She knows that she is often competing for my attention with the computer, phone, etc. So I'm going to make an effort to have real quality time with her, whatever that means
2) pay better attention to my students' blog comments on my comp blog. I really didn't utilize the blog the way I wanted to last time, so this time it becomes a vigorous part of the class
3) for those of you who are already bored with my lame resolutions, here's one: get down and boogie. I'd like to take a movement-oriented class of some kind. It doesn't have to be dance, just something that's not walking that can get me in a room with some other people who are also tripping over their own feet
4) since I'm serving on a new committee at work, find time to devote to the other committees on which I serve. This will be tricky, but anyone in academe knows committees make the world go 'round
5) get a digital camera and take my own pictures for a change. Those pics I put up this morning? Yeah, I stole them off the Internet.
6) OMG, of course I have to add "keep up with my blog"!
7) this one's for later on: use my happy light every day in the morning. Vitamin D absorption is difficult to come by here, so pills and lights are a must for those who don't drink milch (there, you learned the German work for milk)
8) should I keep up with my German theme and say that I'll finally take that German class I've been talking about for four years? No. Why? Because I'm gonna buy a digital camera, and I'm too cheap to pay for a German class. Es tut mir Leid, but that's the way it is. Wouldn't it be cool if the government would give us all free language lessons? And new cars? And digital cameras?
9) call my mother when I say I'm going to call, not the next day. The thing is, I get busy on the weekends (I just realized how that sounded). My mom has caller ID and call waiting now, and her phone announces who is calling, so I can't use the "I tried to call but the line was busy" tactic I tried once, okay twice.
10) continue in my progress at being a good life partner. Unless you don't know me at all, you know that I'm a really uncompromising person sometimes. I'm going to be . . .jeez, I don't know what I'm going to be, but it's going to be better.
So, now I don't have to make any New Years' resolutions, but I should resolve to look at these on January 1st to see if I've progressed at all. How about you? Anything you'd like to resolve?
Friday, August 22, 2008
What's in a Name?
As Alicia (Bighead's real name) gets ready to leave today, I've been thinking about names. She and Catherine (Pinhead) have a different last name than mine, and sometimes I wish they didn't. I guess I wish they could join the zillions of other Murphy's out there whose last name is the "Smith" of the Irish. Their last name comes from their German heritage, and they can trace that heritage way back. What they get from my side of the family is the knowledge that my grandmother and her mother left England and a tyrannical husband/father (my grandmother's words, not mine) to go to NYC and work as maids in huge houses. Their grandfather's father left Ireland (with the law on his tail) to become a NYC employee. And on my mother's side of the family, all I know is that they were all Irish (with a wee bit o' Welsh) and had always lived in NYC.
My name came from my two aunts -- Grace and Eleanor Lamb. I'm named after their middle names, sort of. My mother didn't relish the name Eleanor, so my middle name is Ellen. Patricia Ellen Murphy, pretty bland.
But you know I love my name. When it was Billman I was always sort of put out when people asked if I was of German descent. Nothing against Germans, mind you, but there's not one speck of German in me. When I "got my name back" I really started thinking about what it meant to me in a different way. I didn't forget and sign checks with my old name, well once but years later, and by that time I was senile. I stepped right back into being Patricia Ellen Murphy, with one difference. When I came back to the East, my mother's dream came true; people started calling me Patricia. Cool, very grown up. Some people call me Murf, even cooler.
So, how'd you get your name? Yeah, I'm really interested and not just using this as an excuse to write about how fascinating my little name and life are. If you haven't read Jessica's comments on family traditions, do so immediately. They are hilarious.
So my daughter, Alicia Vida, is leaving today and I hope you feel sorry enough for me to post about your name. You should feel sorry for me because she refuses to take the dog with her. Whatchu got?
My name came from my two aunts -- Grace and Eleanor Lamb. I'm named after their middle names, sort of. My mother didn't relish the name Eleanor, so my middle name is Ellen. Patricia Ellen Murphy, pretty bland.
But you know I love my name. When it was Billman I was always sort of put out when people asked if I was of German descent. Nothing against Germans, mind you, but there's not one speck of German in me. When I "got my name back" I really started thinking about what it meant to me in a different way. I didn't forget and sign checks with my old name, well once but years later, and by that time I was senile. I stepped right back into being Patricia Ellen Murphy, with one difference. When I came back to the East, my mother's dream came true; people started calling me Patricia. Cool, very grown up. Some people call me Murf, even cooler.
So, how'd you get your name? Yeah, I'm really interested and not just using this as an excuse to write about how fascinating my little name and life are. If you haven't read Jessica's comments on family traditions, do so immediately. They are hilarious.
So my daughter, Alicia Vida, is leaving today and I hope you feel sorry enough for me to post about your name. You should feel sorry for me because she refuses to take the dog with her. Whatchu got?
Thursday, August 21, 2008
You're teaching what?
When classes at SUNYIT start on Tuesday I'll be standing there in front of two groups of freshmen. I haven't taught two freshman classes in quite awhile, so it might be a bit of an adjustment, especially since most freshpeople at SUNYIT are traditional students, as in eighteen years old. At least two of you who read this blog remember what it was like to schlog to class three times a week to listen to me drone on and on. And on the phone the other night one of you told me that f.c. was a rather challenging class. I think challenging means good in this former student's case, but sometimes students say teachers are challenging and would rather use other, less flattering words. Having said that, I thought I'd do a tribute to beginning college students, freshpersons, whatever you want to call them. Here is why I like teaching freshman composition:
1) I have taught it I don't know how many times, and I still learn something new each time
2) I can practice being compassionate (when appropriate) and maybe someday I'll actually become compassionate
3) The students rarely bring small children to class
4) The students have great "writing myths" that they bring to class from high school teachers (which should be the subject of another blog) that I can debunk
5) I really believe that what I teach students in composition helps them become better writers througout their college careers
6) Students in f.c. sometimes raise their hands and ask if they can go to the restroom, and while it's disarming it's also charming
7) Traditional freshpeople are literally on the brink -- of adulthood in some cases, of becoming college students, of critical thinking -- and I can push them over the edge, but in a good way
8) They know that the class is going to be terrible, just terrible, and I think most (some?) of them leave it feeling a little better about writing
9) When I want to feel old, really old, all I have to do is talk about music with them. I think two or three (in five years) have heard of any band I listen to. Neither have I heard of their "musical artists," so if they do a paper comparing and contrasting music lyrics they have to provide hard copy
10) They mature tremendously in the course of the semester (well, not everyone does), and while they initially come to class thinking they have nothing to say, most find out they have something to say.
11) Yes, I'm adding an eleventh item. When I do service-learning with freshpeople, I really am proud of the way they handle themselves. So in spring they'll be (fingers crossed) working with a new group, since the breast cancer project is done. They will impress the heck out of me, I'm sure. And the service-learning experience will impact them a good deal, if my survey responses are accurate.
So, that's it. That's why I like freshpeople. Now Nick and Josh, you might be thinking that it sure didn't seem like I liked freshies when you were in my class, but you're wrong; I just didn't like the two of you. Of course that was a joke. It's my blog; I get to put up bad jokes.
So, how will I parlay this one into a question? Well, I think it falls into the category of things you like about your job that other people might not understand or appreciate. In my field teaching freshman comp is not the "glam" part of the job, but somehow it seems like a good deal to me. Of course, when I get two sets of papers at a time, we'll see if I'm as optimistic. What do you do in your job that you enjoy? Maybe it is something that others don't understand, or don't want to do. Maybe you can just tell me about your job, especially Nick since I have no idea what you do. Whatchu got?
No peace table today at the Clinton Farmers' Market. I didn't make the decision, but my bad back and I are glad of it. But I'll wish you peace nonetheless. And since two of you took f.c. from me you know that nonetheless is one word, yes?
1) I have taught it I don't know how many times, and I still learn something new each time
2) I can practice being compassionate (when appropriate) and maybe someday I'll actually become compassionate
3) The students rarely bring small children to class
4) The students have great "writing myths" that they bring to class from high school teachers (which should be the subject of another blog) that I can debunk
5) I really believe that what I teach students in composition helps them become better writers througout their college careers
6) Students in f.c. sometimes raise their hands and ask if they can go to the restroom, and while it's disarming it's also charming
7) Traditional freshpeople are literally on the brink -- of adulthood in some cases, of becoming college students, of critical thinking -- and I can push them over the edge, but in a good way
8) They know that the class is going to be terrible, just terrible, and I think most (some?) of them leave it feeling a little better about writing
9) When I want to feel old, really old, all I have to do is talk about music with them. I think two or three (in five years) have heard of any band I listen to. Neither have I heard of their "musical artists," so if they do a paper comparing and contrasting music lyrics they have to provide hard copy
10) They mature tremendously in the course of the semester (well, not everyone does), and while they initially come to class thinking they have nothing to say, most find out they have something to say.
11) Yes, I'm adding an eleventh item. When I do service-learning with freshpeople, I really am proud of the way they handle themselves. So in spring they'll be (fingers crossed) working with a new group, since the breast cancer project is done. They will impress the heck out of me, I'm sure. And the service-learning experience will impact them a good deal, if my survey responses are accurate.
So, that's it. That's why I like freshpeople. Now Nick and Josh, you might be thinking that it sure didn't seem like I liked freshies when you were in my class, but you're wrong; I just didn't like the two of you. Of course that was a joke. It's my blog; I get to put up bad jokes.
So, how will I parlay this one into a question? Well, I think it falls into the category of things you like about your job that other people might not understand or appreciate. In my field teaching freshman comp is not the "glam" part of the job, but somehow it seems like a good deal to me. Of course, when I get two sets of papers at a time, we'll see if I'm as optimistic. What do you do in your job that you enjoy? Maybe it is something that others don't understand, or don't want to do. Maybe you can just tell me about your job, especially Nick since I have no idea what you do. Whatchu got?
No peace table today at the Clinton Farmers' Market. I didn't make the decision, but my bad back and I are glad of it. But I'll wish you peace nonetheless. And since two of you took f.c. from me you know that nonetheless is one word, yes?
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
You can take the girl outta Jersey
Thanks again to Jess for noticing my absence. See your blog girl, if you don't know what I'm talking about.
I thought I'd blog today about the kinds of things that make me realize that being from NJ makes me the kind of person who . . .
1) drives and yells (at the same time)
2) talks really loud while in NJ (not that I'm exactly quiet the rest of the time)
3) stays aware of my surroundings all the time (when I lived in Idaho people thought it odd that I always look over my shoulder while in conversation)
4) says "yeah" and "alright" too much as place markers
5) doesn't care if anyone "has a nice day" as opposed to my next five points
You can tell I lived in Idaho because . . .
1) when I talk to Idahoans, including my daughters, I immediately sound like I'm from Idaho
2) when it cools off at night in the summer (in CNY, not Jersey), I expect it to cool off to near-frigid temperatures like it did in the desert
3) when I smell smoke in the summer (from bonfires in people's backyards) I immediately think everything will soon be consumed by flames
4) I have been know to say "you bet" instead of you're welcome
5) I can recognize Mormon missionaries, when other people think they're Jehovah's Witnesses
So I'm a hybrid, and those are just a few of the things that resulted from living in two such different (and wonderful) places. How about you? Do you bring with you cultural practices and habits from different places you've lived? If so, what are they, and where do you feel most at home? I'll answer that last question before I close. I gotta say, I've got a lot of Jersey-pride, but I'm feeling pretty CNY most days.
Moopy, it didn't seem like you wanted a tribute, but it's coming soon. I'm sending off the article today, unless you tell me otherwise.
I thought I'd blog today about the kinds of things that make me realize that being from NJ makes me the kind of person who . . .
1) drives and yells (at the same time)
2) talks really loud while in NJ (not that I'm exactly quiet the rest of the time)
3) stays aware of my surroundings all the time (when I lived in Idaho people thought it odd that I always look over my shoulder while in conversation)
4) says "yeah" and "alright" too much as place markers
5) doesn't care if anyone "has a nice day" as opposed to my next five points
You can tell I lived in Idaho because . . .
1) when I talk to Idahoans, including my daughters, I immediately sound like I'm from Idaho
2) when it cools off at night in the summer (in CNY, not Jersey), I expect it to cool off to near-frigid temperatures like it did in the desert
3) when I smell smoke in the summer (from bonfires in people's backyards) I immediately think everything will soon be consumed by flames
4) I have been know to say "you bet" instead of you're welcome
5) I can recognize Mormon missionaries, when other people think they're Jehovah's Witnesses
So I'm a hybrid, and those are just a few of the things that resulted from living in two such different (and wonderful) places. How about you? Do you bring with you cultural practices and habits from different places you've lived? If so, what are they, and where do you feel most at home? I'll answer that last question before I close. I gotta say, I've got a lot of Jersey-pride, but I'm feeling pretty CNY most days.
Moopy, it didn't seem like you wanted a tribute, but it's coming soon. I'm sending off the article today, unless you tell me otherwise.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Did You Miss Me?
Yeah, I didn't blog for a few days. I went to MA to see Catherine Billman, then to NJ to see the Murphy's. I will be posting about the various drivers I encountered along the way (in NY, MA, CONN, NY again and NJ)later,but for now let's just say the driving (about 750 miles with that bad back) was nothing compared to the tree that fell on and levelled my mother and father's garage Sunday night/Monday morning. The neighbor's giant (I mean over 71 years old because the neighbor has lived there 71 years) walnut tree uprooted itself (no wind, no rain) and took out our garage and "summer house" (half of the garage had been converted by my father to what we called the summer house, a place where we ate our Sunday meals with extended family in the, duh, summertime). Gone, all gone. I'll post the pics from Licia's cellphone later. It is sad to make a list of things for the insurance company when you're making a list of things that were such a part of your family history. But, nobody was hurt, and actually if the tree had fallen ten feet in another direction, somebody would've been killed. We make our trees big in Jersey.
So here's a prompt for you. Family traditions. What did your family do/have as tradition that made those family times special? Here are a few of mine:
1) eating in the now-flattened summer house and then listening to everyone talk while I swam in the pool, which was just a few feet away. I'm not proud that I splashed my family from the pool sometimes, but maybe it was refreshing.
2) sitting on my father's lap way late at night in the hottest part of summer when it was too hot to sleep and we had to have the porch light off (June bugs, big ones) and listening to his stories and the "Anne Boleyn" song. My siblings were there, but I choose to ignore that and make it a father-daughter tradition.
3) switching from summer to Christmas -- opening presents on Christmas Eve because my fater was a UPS man in the city, and he didn't get home until midnight, that biggest package night of the year (dude, I said biggest package).
4) name any Sunday and my extended family was at our house. My mother was the only cook of the three Lamb sisters, my grandmother died before I was born, so there we were, all crowded into a house with no dining room, eating in the living room. But that's not the whole tradition. We'd eat early, then everyone would stay and we'd eat deli (cold cuts, if you're from Jersey) and watch TV.
5) sitting around at the dining room table (when we finally had a dining room) with the ladies in my family while the male relatives watched sports or whatever. This was when I was older, and my friends from school always wanted to come over because my women were so cool.
Okay, that's it. I can't type on D's split keyboard anymore. If there are aton of typos, blame them on ergonomics. Gotta go: first day back at work, unless you count the two hours I was there yesterday. Whatchu got for family traditions? BTW, you're forgiven for not wondering what happened to me over the weekend. You're busy, I'm busy. But it's time to step up to the plate and blog . . . draft
So here's a prompt for you. Family traditions. What did your family do/have as tradition that made those family times special? Here are a few of mine:
1) eating in the now-flattened summer house and then listening to everyone talk while I swam in the pool, which was just a few feet away. I'm not proud that I splashed my family from the pool sometimes, but maybe it was refreshing.
2) sitting on my father's lap way late at night in the hottest part of summer when it was too hot to sleep and we had to have the porch light off (June bugs, big ones) and listening to his stories and the "Anne Boleyn" song. My siblings were there, but I choose to ignore that and make it a father-daughter tradition.
3) switching from summer to Christmas -- opening presents on Christmas Eve because my fater was a UPS man in the city, and he didn't get home until midnight, that biggest package night of the year (dude, I said biggest package).
4) name any Sunday and my extended family was at our house. My mother was the only cook of the three Lamb sisters, my grandmother died before I was born, so there we were, all crowded into a house with no dining room, eating in the living room. But that's not the whole tradition. We'd eat early, then everyone would stay and we'd eat deli (cold cuts, if you're from Jersey) and watch TV.
5) sitting around at the dining room table (when we finally had a dining room) with the ladies in my family while the male relatives watched sports or whatever. This was when I was older, and my friends from school always wanted to come over because my women were so cool.
Okay, that's it. I can't type on D's split keyboard anymore. If there are aton of typos, blame them on ergonomics. Gotta go: first day back at work, unless you count the two hours I was there yesterday. Whatchu got for family traditions? BTW, you're forgiven for not wondering what happened to me over the weekend. You're busy, I'm busy. But it's time to step up to the plate and blog . . . draft
Friday, August 15, 2008
for my friend T
My friend T pointed out that I have not written one thing directly about her on my blog. She has been great about commenting and says she reads my blog faithfully. So here, dear friends, is a list of why Miss T is a fine friend:
1) she is smart but not all puffed up about being smart
2) she is always the optimist, so much so that ya gotta wonder sometimes (he he)
3) she is fun and funny, but not in a who-can-turn-the-world-on-with-her-smile sort of way
4) she manages to have three children and still be a person (looks good, doesn't have mysterious child-related stains on her clothes)
5) she manages to be a person and still be a mother (her children can pick her out of a crowd, or lineup, if necessary)
6) she is a great teacher and always thinks about her teaching
7) she is tall (this one may not mean much to you, T, but it's always good for short people like me to have tall friends)
8) she believes in our school and makes us look good whenever she represents us
9) she cries when she reads what she's written about her children
10) she admires me
So that's it, Miss T. Moopy's next on the friends tribute, but I gotta warn you, that is gonna be one hell of a long, weird list.
Let's hear about your friends. What do they do that deems them worthy of your friendship? Nick, where the heck are you? Lost on the Garden State Parkway? You and Jess are gonna write about each other, I know. Bring it on. Whatchu got?
1) she is smart but not all puffed up about being smart
2) she is always the optimist, so much so that ya gotta wonder sometimes (he he)
3) she is fun and funny, but not in a who-can-turn-the-world-on-with-her-smile sort of way
4) she manages to have three children and still be a person (looks good, doesn't have mysterious child-related stains on her clothes)
5) she manages to be a person and still be a mother (her children can pick her out of a crowd, or lineup, if necessary)
6) she is a great teacher and always thinks about her teaching
7) she is tall (this one may not mean much to you, T, but it's always good for short people like me to have tall friends)
8) she believes in our school and makes us look good whenever she represents us
9) she cries when she reads what she's written about her children
10) she admires me
So that's it, Miss T. Moopy's next on the friends tribute, but I gotta warn you, that is gonna be one hell of a long, weird list.
Let's hear about your friends. What do they do that deems them worthy of your friendship? Nick, where the heck are you? Lost on the Garden State Parkway? You and Jess are gonna write about each other, I know. Bring it on. Whatchu got?
Thursday, August 14, 2008
lidocaine
Yes, that's what I've been putting on my back for the last twenty-four hours, a lidocaine patch. It hasn't done much good, unfortunately. Today is the peace table at the Farmers' Market, and Licia (who still hasn't guest blogged) kindly volunteered to go help Shirley (fellow peacenik) set up. I'll hobble down there later and try to smile peacefully at people. But enough about my stupid back.
Today's post will be about something happy and near and dear to my heart, music. When things get me down, I turn to music. Since I have a rich (and very aural) inner head, I don't even need to play music to be cheered up by it. Right now I'm thinking about how Stuart Murdoch of Belle and Sebastian was housebound for years with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and still wrote great songs, many of which wound up on Tigermilk. Music can really help us through those bad times, and I, like Nick Hornby's character Rob from High Fidelity have a whole list of songs that remind me of certain times in my life. So here are a few of them in no order whatsoever:
Belle and Sebastian's "I Spent the Summer Wasting" Summer 2000, Pocatello, Idaho
Jimmy Johnson's "(I'm a) Jockey" mid 90's, American Falls, Idaho
"The Anne Boleyn Song" all my life, New Jersey, sung by my father
The Decemberists' "July, July!" Summer 2002, Portland, Oregon and Richie
The traditional Irish "Mountains O' Mourne", anywhere, anytime there's a chance for me to sing it a capella, but the first I heard it was the Don McLean version in the 80's
The Smith's "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now", first done in 1984, but I didn't hear it until 2000, late bloomer that I am. I have it in my head at work sometimes, nuf said.
And my all time in my head right now song, always my end-of-summer-song is (drum roll please) . . .
REM's "Nightswimming", 1992, but perfect for the end of any summer. It's nostalgic and sweet and slightly sexy, in a teenage discovery sort of way.
So those are the songs I rely on when I need to have a song in my head, for whatever reason. What songs do you hold dear? Whatchu got?
Today's post will be about something happy and near and dear to my heart, music. When things get me down, I turn to music. Since I have a rich (and very aural) inner head, I don't even need to play music to be cheered up by it. Right now I'm thinking about how Stuart Murdoch of Belle and Sebastian was housebound for years with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and still wrote great songs, many of which wound up on Tigermilk. Music can really help us through those bad times, and I, like Nick Hornby's character Rob from High Fidelity have a whole list of songs that remind me of certain times in my life. So here are a few of them in no order whatsoever:
Belle and Sebastian's "I Spent the Summer Wasting" Summer 2000, Pocatello, Idaho
Jimmy Johnson's "(I'm a) Jockey" mid 90's, American Falls, Idaho
"The Anne Boleyn Song" all my life, New Jersey, sung by my father
The Decemberists' "July, July!" Summer 2002, Portland, Oregon and Richie
The traditional Irish "Mountains O' Mourne", anywhere, anytime there's a chance for me to sing it a capella, but the first I heard it was the Don McLean version in the 80's
The Smith's "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now", first done in 1984, but I didn't hear it until 2000, late bloomer that I am. I have it in my head at work sometimes, nuf said.
And my all time in my head right now song, always my end-of-summer-song is (drum roll please) . . .
REM's "Nightswimming", 1992, but perfect for the end of any summer. It's nostalgic and sweet and slightly sexy, in a teenage discovery sort of way.
So those are the songs I rely on when I need to have a song in my head, for whatever reason. What songs do you hold dear? Whatchu got?
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
What a bummer, dude!
Those of you who know me may remember my back injury almost two years ago. I had a ruptured disc that was hugely painful and spent months using a traction device to try to avoid back surgery. I did get through it without surgery and restored my back almost to its former glory. I've very active (which is good because I eat a lot) and I try to stretch as often as I remember. But, alas, (redundant that, but I wanted to use alas) I've had a relapse. Now, while oldest daughter Alicia (aka Bighead) is here, I'm doing traction, sitting with a heating pad, and thinking about calling the chiropractor. Too bad Pinhead isn't here to give me a massage.
So the topic of my blog today is vulnerability. I'm a pretty fearless sort, and I don't let much stop me, but back pain is more than pain. It makes me feel vulnerable, prone to further injury, off kilter, not at one with the universe. Okay, I added that one-with-the-universe-stuff just to end the line. I don't even know what that means. All I know is I don't feel like SuperPat today, and I'd sure like a little sympathy.
So I guess I should ask for advice. What do you do when you're out of sorts, injured, or ill? Should I go for it? Maybe go for a jog like some doctors tell their back injury patients to do? Should I be looking for muscle relaxers? Check myself into a spa? Heating pad or ice? So many options. Anybody wanna entertain my 27 year old kid for the day?
Step up and at least send me some sympathy, even you anonymous.
So the topic of my blog today is vulnerability. I'm a pretty fearless sort, and I don't let much stop me, but back pain is more than pain. It makes me feel vulnerable, prone to further injury, off kilter, not at one with the universe. Okay, I added that one-with-the-universe-stuff just to end the line. I don't even know what that means. All I know is I don't feel like SuperPat today, and I'd sure like a little sympathy.
So I guess I should ask for advice. What do you do when you're out of sorts, injured, or ill? Should I go for it? Maybe go for a jog like some doctors tell their back injury patients to do? Should I be looking for muscle relaxers? Check myself into a spa? Heating pad or ice? So many options. Anybody wanna entertain my 27 year old kid for the day?
Step up and at least send me some sympathy, even you anonymous.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Season's changing
Those of you who are in denial will not want to hear this, but I'm gonna tell ya anyway. I was driving home from Utica last night and there they were: trees with red and orange leaves on them. Yup, summer is in decline, and I go back to work in less than one week. Moopy says it was cold last night in Idaho too, so it's not just a central New york thing.
You might not be feeling too sorry for me if you're the kind of person who doesn't work in academe, who doesn't have the summer "off," as non-academic types think of it. I have to say I've had the best summer in a long while. I wrote two articles, four poems, planned my work year at SUNYIT, and had some fun along the way. My family was healthy and relatively happy. And so, as summer dwindles and I look forward to facing two classes of freshmen I'm making some resolutions for fall:
1) be kind to them; they're new at this college thing
2) teach more grammar, but in fun ways, like using msword and messing around with it to reinforce syntax
3) be kind to my superadjuncts, who are delightful people
4) get the freshpeople involved in campus life
5) that's enough lovefest. I can't think of a fifth work-related thing. Oh yeah, get tenure -- yikes!
What are you gonna do this fall? Your answer doesn't have to be work-related. If you're gonna start a diet, that's cool, tell me about it. If you're gonna finish a novel (Lena) that's way cool. Whatchu got?
You might not be feeling too sorry for me if you're the kind of person who doesn't work in academe, who doesn't have the summer "off," as non-academic types think of it. I have to say I've had the best summer in a long while. I wrote two articles, four poems, planned my work year at SUNYIT, and had some fun along the way. My family was healthy and relatively happy. And so, as summer dwindles and I look forward to facing two classes of freshmen I'm making some resolutions for fall:
1) be kind to them; they're new at this college thing
2) teach more grammar, but in fun ways, like using msword and messing around with it to reinforce syntax
3) be kind to my superadjuncts, who are delightful people
4) get the freshpeople involved in campus life
5) that's enough lovefest. I can't think of a fifth work-related thing. Oh yeah, get tenure -- yikes!
What are you gonna do this fall? Your answer doesn't have to be work-related. If you're gonna start a diet, that's cool, tell me about it. If you're gonna finish a novel (Lena) that's way cool. Whatchu got?
Monday, August 11, 2008
Still waiting
for guest blogger Alicia Billman to step up to the plate. Yeah, I'm back online, but from the coffee shop not from home. I know that it's not my modem at least. This whole not being online thing has revealed to me what an internet slut I am. I checked my work email last, btw.
So today it's raining in central New York, after a night of nasty thunder and lightning. Missy (the dog) is still alive but shaken, after a night of trying to get under the bed, in the bathtub, in the kitchen cupboard, etc. Today's post is dedicated to Missy, my faithful companion of 8+ years. Five things I love about Missy are:
1) She is cute, in an aging diva hound dog sort of way
2) She is sweet, in an over needy, high strung sort of way (no, that doesn't mean she's just like me)
3) She is pretty well behaved (unless you count food obsession as a behavior problem)
Okay, so there are only three things I love about Missy. What about you? Gotta pet that you love/don't love, tolerate? Lemme know. Step up to the plate and post, why don'tcha? This means you, Mikey.
Peace
So today it's raining in central New York, after a night of nasty thunder and lightning. Missy (the dog) is still alive but shaken, after a night of trying to get under the bed, in the bathtub, in the kitchen cupboard, etc. Today's post is dedicated to Missy, my faithful companion of 8+ years. Five things I love about Missy are:
1) She is cute, in an aging diva hound dog sort of way
2) She is sweet, in an over needy, high strung sort of way (no, that doesn't mean she's just like me)
3) She is pretty well behaved (unless you count food obsession as a behavior problem)
Okay, so there are only three things I love about Missy. What about you? Gotta pet that you love/don't love, tolerate? Lemme know. Step up to the plate and post, why don'tcha? This means you, Mikey.
Peace
Sunday, August 10, 2008
While I'm waiting
for Alicia Billman to come up with a guest post, I think I'll say a little bit about one of my real passions that not too many people know about. I have recently debugged my desktop computer, which was loaded with a ton of trouble, mostly viruses with horrible names. In doing so, I have been reunited (and it feels so good) with my Scrabble game. Let me say that I used to play at least two games of Scrabble at the Master level before leaving for work every day. My game was still there when my computer was funky, but it ran sluggish and sometimes froze.
So Scrabble and I are back together. Problem is, I now suck at it. In the months of not playing, I seem to have lost my ability to generate good words or capitalize on the Maven's played words in any decent manner. I may have to set the difficulty level lower for awhile. I am losing and losing big.
Are there other things in the world that should be of greater concern to me? Yes. And yes I'm aware that admitting to an addiction a computer-generated Scrabble game is not even as cool as admitting to an addiction to the online version or to online porn. But it's what I got, and I used to be damn good at it. And now I'm not. But I'll be back on top someday. You wait and see.
So what kinds of uncool (or cool, if you insist) addictions, fetishes, habits, whateva, do you have? I'm leaving the rating scale to your discretion.
If you're driving through Clinton, NY between 4:00 and 5:00, guest activist Alicia Billman will be on the Village Green holding up a sign with the rest of us. Honk for the hottie!
Good Day and Peace Out
So Scrabble and I are back together. Problem is, I now suck at it. In the months of not playing, I seem to have lost my ability to generate good words or capitalize on the Maven's played words in any decent manner. I may have to set the difficulty level lower for awhile. I am losing and losing big.
Are there other things in the world that should be of greater concern to me? Yes. And yes I'm aware that admitting to an addiction a computer-generated Scrabble game is not even as cool as admitting to an addiction to the online version or to online porn. But it's what I got, and I used to be damn good at it. And now I'm not. But I'll be back on top someday. You wait and see.
So what kinds of uncool (or cool, if you insist) addictions, fetishes, habits, whateva, do you have? I'm leaving the rating scale to your discretion.
If you're driving through Clinton, NY between 4:00 and 5:00, guest activist Alicia Billman will be on the Village Green holding up a sign with the rest of us. Honk for the hottie!
Good Day and Peace Out
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Music
Last night I went to the Trama-something Cafe in Utica, New York. There was live music by local artists and they rocked the house. It got me to thinking that everyone out there who reads this blog lives in a place where local artists live and work, often unsupported by anyone/thing other than their equally poor fan base. I'm kinda lucky because while I do write and read poetry locally, I also have a cushy state job to pay the mortgage with, that is until the State of New York cuts $96 million from the budget this year and I go start a new career at Jiffy Lube.
So here's to local artists, like (in Utica) Jenny Penny, the Real Burnouts, Figments of Your Imagination, all the writers who stand up and read at coffee shops, and all their listeners who come out and say thank you and give us a pat on the back.
You've got great local performers/artists where you live, so let's hear about some of them. Names names; maybe it'll help sell a cd or maybe you'll wind up having some great artist come on tour and sleep on your couch.
Whatchu got?
So here's to local artists, like (in Utica) Jenny Penny, the Real Burnouts, Figments of Your Imagination, all the writers who stand up and read at coffee shops, and all their listeners who come out and say thank you and give us a pat on the back.
You've got great local performers/artists where you live, so let's hear about some of them. Names names; maybe it'll help sell a cd or maybe you'll wind up having some great artist come on tour and sleep on your couch.
Whatchu got?
Friday, August 8, 2008
Catherine forgot
that she also meant to ask you what it is you look for in a friend. Remember, she's new at all this.
Guest Blogger Catherine Billman
Catherine (aka Pinhead) is too lazy to set up her own blog, but she is going to do a guest spot on mine, probably a tribute to me. Ha, ha! She told me that I have approval of all comments; we'll see.
Ladies and gentlemen, Catherine Billman
I'm thinking that maybe in some time we can turn this blogarama into a talk show or variety show.
here's something that has been on my mind lately.
HOW TO CHOOSE YOUR FRIENDS
first of all when choosing friend you must first reach into the depths of your own life and find out what qualities you do and don't have. You do want your friends to complement your great qualities and ignore or at least not heckle you about your short falls, so NO assholes (sorry mike).
second you may want to choose people who are either less attractive or not as smart as you especially if you plan to ever go out in public with them. If they are smarter than you offer them a haircut because at least that way you can guarantee that they are less attractive and remember kids always cut in a bald spot.
If you have a very good looking stupid friend go shopping and tell them that they look GREAT in a moomoo. remember they're stupid.
third, now that you have chosen stupid or ugly friends, you might want to consider height I like to choose people who are taller and wider then I am. This way you can always ensure that you will look thin and small. This step is not nearly as important as the second step.
fourth In general you may find that your friends have great qualities such as kindness and loyalty. Don't let them know that you know this about them. Tell them that they are mean and flaky.
fifth always choose people who you can beat up either mentally or physically, or make sure you can run faster than they can. Here I would suggest "accidentally" breaking their legs when they are not looking. You can do this by pushing them down the stairs. This is what I did to my mother it seems to have worked. But be careful everyone she's pretty smart and very good looking, needless to say I didn't choose her she chose me.
sixth, Always choose people who think that you're listening although you never really are. I tend to use terms like uh huh, and really when not listening and I know that nobody really reads this blog so no one will every know that I'm never listening. My mother uses other tactics so see if you can catch on to these.
seventh, this one is really important, your friends need to have money. A job is the best way of obtaining money and you can always let them know this, it's a great way to ridicule hobo's. Trust fund friends are great but they may overstay their welcome.
So everyone, now that you realize that your friends are better looking, more intelligent, make more money, have better qualities, are better listeners and can beat you up; pack all of your belongings and relocate to an area called Nebraska. Nebraska is where everyone who has followed Catherine's seven steps to great friends has relocated to, so I'm sure you'll meet some lovely people there. Just don't talk to them.
I also wanted to make a note about friends who like to stay in, these are the best kind of friends, because they only make you look like an ugly asshole in the privacy of your own home. Choose wisely, but always make sure you are the one who is choosing.
Thank you for purchasing "Seven Steps to Great Friend". That'll be $17.95.
I'm Patricia Murphy, and I approved but did not punctuate this post.
Ladies and gentlemen, Catherine Billman
I'm thinking that maybe in some time we can turn this blogarama into a talk show or variety show.
here's something that has been on my mind lately.
HOW TO CHOOSE YOUR FRIENDS
first of all when choosing friend you must first reach into the depths of your own life and find out what qualities you do and don't have. You do want your friends to complement your great qualities and ignore or at least not heckle you about your short falls, so NO assholes (sorry mike).
second you may want to choose people who are either less attractive or not as smart as you especially if you plan to ever go out in public with them. If they are smarter than you offer them a haircut because at least that way you can guarantee that they are less attractive and remember kids always cut in a bald spot.
If you have a very good looking stupid friend go shopping and tell them that they look GREAT in a moomoo. remember they're stupid.
third, now that you have chosen stupid or ugly friends, you might want to consider height I like to choose people who are taller and wider then I am. This way you can always ensure that you will look thin and small. This step is not nearly as important as the second step.
fourth In general you may find that your friends have great qualities such as kindness and loyalty. Don't let them know that you know this about them. Tell them that they are mean and flaky.
fifth always choose people who you can beat up either mentally or physically, or make sure you can run faster than they can. Here I would suggest "accidentally" breaking their legs when they are not looking. You can do this by pushing them down the stairs. This is what I did to my mother it seems to have worked. But be careful everyone she's pretty smart and very good looking, needless to say I didn't choose her she chose me.
sixth, Always choose people who think that you're listening although you never really are. I tend to use terms like uh huh, and really when not listening and I know that nobody really reads this blog so no one will every know that I'm never listening. My mother uses other tactics so see if you can catch on to these.
seventh, this one is really important, your friends need to have money. A job is the best way of obtaining money and you can always let them know this, it's a great way to ridicule hobo's. Trust fund friends are great but they may overstay their welcome.
So everyone, now that you realize that your friends are better looking, more intelligent, make more money, have better qualities, are better listeners and can beat you up; pack all of your belongings and relocate to an area called Nebraska. Nebraska is where everyone who has followed Catherine's seven steps to great friends has relocated to, so I'm sure you'll meet some lovely people there. Just don't talk to them.
I also wanted to make a note about friends who like to stay in, these are the best kind of friends, because they only make you look like an ugly asshole in the privacy of your own home. Choose wisely, but always make sure you are the one who is choosing.
Thank you for purchasing "Seven Steps to Great Friend". That'll be $17.95.
I'm Patricia Murphy, and I approved but did not punctuate this post.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Daughters, they're the best
My oldest daughter Alicia (aka Bighead) will be here tomorrow night. My youngest daughter Catherine (aka Pinhead) is here right now, asleep upstairs. So I thought I'd take a moment and talk about daughters. My daughters are my greatest asset, my best friends, my confidantes, and my comic relief. We have a relationship that is a little atypical, to say the least. They have seen me through emotional turmoil that I thought would take me under, and they've listened to me when I didn't even want to hear my own voice, but for some reason I kept talking anyway. They remember the winter of 1999-2000 all too well I'm sure because it was the darkest time of my life. Thank goodness they were teenagers, and they were busy, what with the getting into trouble and small town Idaho (non Mormon) fun.
Now my daughters are 27 and 25 years old, which means that I am damn old. As I look forward to having them both in the same place for a few days, I can't help but think about last summer, when we all sat by mother's bedside while she was in intensive care at Holy Name Hospital (don't go there, go to Englewood Hospital, or anywhere else for that matter). Alicia came from Portland and Catherine from Clinton because my mother was not expected to make it. Those of you who know me know she did make it, and now we'll see her again, and seeing her will make us unbearably happy.
So here are some things I'd like you to know about my daughters:
1) they are cuddly, but in different ways
2) they are eccentric, also in different ways
3) they can sew, draw, write, sing, dance, cook, read (duh!), and do so magically
4) they are nice people
5) they recycle
6) they live in cool places (Portland, OR and Northampton, MA)
7) they are a massage therapist and an applied linguistics major
8) they are funny and witty and smart
9) they are beautiful
10) they love me
So, if you're a daughter, if you're a mother, what do you want to say about your mother or daughter(s)? Yes Nick, we'll talk about fathers and maybe even sons soon, but this one's for the ladies.
Gotta go, time for peace at the Clinton Farmers' Market.
Whatchu got?
Now my daughters are 27 and 25 years old, which means that I am damn old. As I look forward to having them both in the same place for a few days, I can't help but think about last summer, when we all sat by mother's bedside while she was in intensive care at Holy Name Hospital (don't go there, go to Englewood Hospital, or anywhere else for that matter). Alicia came from Portland and Catherine from Clinton because my mother was not expected to make it. Those of you who know me know she did make it, and now we'll see her again, and seeing her will make us unbearably happy.
So here are some things I'd like you to know about my daughters:
1) they are cuddly, but in different ways
2) they are eccentric, also in different ways
3) they can sew, draw, write, sing, dance, cook, read (duh!), and do so magically
4) they are nice people
5) they recycle
6) they live in cool places (Portland, OR and Northampton, MA)
7) they are a massage therapist and an applied linguistics major
8) they are funny and witty and smart
9) they are beautiful
10) they love me
So, if you're a daughter, if you're a mother, what do you want to say about your mother or daughter(s)? Yes Nick, we'll talk about fathers and maybe even sons soon, but this one's for the ladies.
Gotta go, time for peace at the Clinton Farmers' Market.
Whatchu got?
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Alright, I've had it!
Today I was going to blog about what I've been writing and maybe even put up my new poem "Alien, My Love Monster," but things changed when last night . . . .
after Catherine and I killed two bees in my bedroom, and were just settling down for a long summer's sleep, this giant thing the size of a small bat came flying into the room. We both jumped out of bed screaming and ran out of the room. It followed for a minute, long enough to flutter across Catherine's back, and then disappeared. We looked everywhere, and I mean everywhere for it, and just as I was gathering sheets for us to go sleep downstairs (this is also the bee room (see earlier post)) I saw it on the curtain. It was HUGE, I mean the size of a premature baby huge. Okay, strike that; it was an exaggeration and distasteful. But it was a long, very lovely beetle of some kind, just minding its own business. Does this mean that we were able to deal with the situation in a mature manner? No, it took us an hour to get up the courage to trap it in an old Trader Joe's coffee can and throw it out the window.
Now I've had five hours of sleep and it's time to go look at the killing fields, as I like to think of the side of my house where the bees are. Last night Carlie brought over a ladder and two cans of bug spray went up there. There were, as I said, two bees in my room after that, but the spray definitely rendered some bees incapable of getting in the hole outside. Score: Pat 1, Bees 0 -- for now.
Along the theme of bugs, I will post my poem about Tent Caterpillars. For those of you who don't know, tent caterpillars are to New York (at least this part of New York) what cicadas are to Jersey, Mormon crickets are to Idaho, locusts are to the Midwest (and to biblical figures). The poem is over a year old (maybe two), from when we were in the second year of a cycle. The caterpillars came back again this year, but died almost spontaneously and without my help. Perhaps there is a god, after all.
Tent Caterpillars — Clinton, New York
They are an unrelenting, indiscriminate army,
these bugs that climb my house, eat my trees
at night with a moist and endless rhythm while I
try to type out poems about middle-aged lust.
They have no souls; of this I am convinced.
They will not turn into beautiful butterflies
or contribute to a cure for cancer. They are
only here to destroy my homeowner’s bliss.
In the car on the way to Utica my daughter screams.
I think of cars pulling out from stop signs, danger,
but it's only a caterpillar on her leg. “Sorry,” she says,
“but they’re just so disgusting.” The car is no longer safe.
They can climb the tires, but not the body. They get in
on shoes that cross the 10 feet of front lawn, stowaways,
and who knows what they’ll do inside a Toyota. They
breed fantastically quickly, after all, and know no shame.
On NPR last year the extension agent promised no return
of tent caterpillars for 15 years. He seemed smart and
certain, but now I know he was a fool. Last year I swept
them away with a broom and chlorox, but not this year.
Armed with a sprayer I BT the house, create a moat of
biological toxins that will eat them alive after digestion.
They will, it’s true, take a little time to die, but I’m patient.
I have a lot of rubber gloves and old clothes to wear.
My friend from Little Falls says on the phone: flamethrower,
and the sweet sound of the word is a melody for revenge.
I see myself dancing around the yard,
aiming, flaming, trees and worms writhing.
I see myself accidentally burning the house down, trying
to explain to my insurance agent that it seemed like a good
idea. I remember that my friend takes medication, and
resolve to find another way out of this mess. Is there an
offering that can be made? I will make it. Is there a winged
god who can be prayed to? I will pray it. Some talisman I can
wear? hot line I can call? shaman I can hire? priest I can bribe?
Stop! I’ll just stay in the house all summer and write bug poems.
Have a bug free day wherever you are. Mikey, where were you when we needed you? How about a post on least favorite bugs everyone?
after Catherine and I killed two bees in my bedroom, and were just settling down for a long summer's sleep, this giant thing the size of a small bat came flying into the room. We both jumped out of bed screaming and ran out of the room. It followed for a minute, long enough to flutter across Catherine's back, and then disappeared. We looked everywhere, and I mean everywhere for it, and just as I was gathering sheets for us to go sleep downstairs (this is also the bee room (see earlier post)) I saw it on the curtain. It was HUGE, I mean the size of a premature baby huge. Okay, strike that; it was an exaggeration and distasteful. But it was a long, very lovely beetle of some kind, just minding its own business. Does this mean that we were able to deal with the situation in a mature manner? No, it took us an hour to get up the courage to trap it in an old Trader Joe's coffee can and throw it out the window.
Now I've had five hours of sleep and it's time to go look at the killing fields, as I like to think of the side of my house where the bees are. Last night Carlie brought over a ladder and two cans of bug spray went up there. There were, as I said, two bees in my room after that, but the spray definitely rendered some bees incapable of getting in the hole outside. Score: Pat 1, Bees 0 -- for now.
Along the theme of bugs, I will post my poem about Tent Caterpillars. For those of you who don't know, tent caterpillars are to New York (at least this part of New York) what cicadas are to Jersey, Mormon crickets are to Idaho, locusts are to the Midwest (and to biblical figures). The poem is over a year old (maybe two), from when we were in the second year of a cycle. The caterpillars came back again this year, but died almost spontaneously and without my help. Perhaps there is a god, after all.
Tent Caterpillars — Clinton, New York
They are an unrelenting, indiscriminate army,
these bugs that climb my house, eat my trees
at night with a moist and endless rhythm while I
try to type out poems about middle-aged lust.
They have no souls; of this I am convinced.
They will not turn into beautiful butterflies
or contribute to a cure for cancer. They are
only here to destroy my homeowner’s bliss.
In the car on the way to Utica my daughter screams.
I think of cars pulling out from stop signs, danger,
but it's only a caterpillar on her leg. “Sorry,” she says,
“but they’re just so disgusting.” The car is no longer safe.
They can climb the tires, but not the body. They get in
on shoes that cross the 10 feet of front lawn, stowaways,
and who knows what they’ll do inside a Toyota. They
breed fantastically quickly, after all, and know no shame.
On NPR last year the extension agent promised no return
of tent caterpillars for 15 years. He seemed smart and
certain, but now I know he was a fool. Last year I swept
them away with a broom and chlorox, but not this year.
Armed with a sprayer I BT the house, create a moat of
biological toxins that will eat them alive after digestion.
They will, it’s true, take a little time to die, but I’m patient.
I have a lot of rubber gloves and old clothes to wear.
My friend from Little Falls says on the phone: flamethrower,
and the sweet sound of the word is a melody for revenge.
I see myself dancing around the yard,
aiming, flaming, trees and worms writhing.
I see myself accidentally burning the house down, trying
to explain to my insurance agent that it seemed like a good
idea. I remember that my friend takes medication, and
resolve to find another way out of this mess. Is there an
offering that can be made? I will make it. Is there a winged
god who can be prayed to? I will pray it. Some talisman I can
wear? hot line I can call? shaman I can hire? priest I can bribe?
Stop! I’ll just stay in the house all summer and write bug poems.
Have a bug free day wherever you are. Mikey, where were you when we needed you? How about a post on least favorite bugs everyone?
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
more nature
Those of you who know me know that I have a long history of being a tree hugging nature lover. When I lived in Idaho I was a camper, angler, and all around outdoorsy girl. I camped in tents and in a camper and liked tent camping better. Then I moved to New York and got to know the west side of the Adirondacks better. My favorite lake is Nine-cornered lake because it's close enough to where I live and it's just beautiful. A short hike from the road and you can swim and just sit and look at the water. I have a picture of it in my office, so when I'm working in the dead (should I say horribly depressing death grip?) of winter I can look at it and remember that there will be summer in NY again.
That said, I now want to state that while nature is great, it needs to stay the f--- away from my house. You might know from my earlier post that I recently encountered a bat in my window fan, dead (its mouth open in a silent shriek) but in my house nonetheless. Now it's bees. Bees that are going into a gap between a window and the outside wall of my house. Yes, going in. And they're going into my bedroom. So last night it was a trip to Lowes to get outdoor spray (I mean real poison here) that shoots 20 ft. into the air. Except it didn't. But by standing on the edge of my side porch and reaching as far as I could, I got the spray to hit my target and drenched the shit out of my beloved old house, which now has two windows covered with a drippy substance that probably looks like you-know-what (I know you know).
This morning as soon as I'm done with this post, I'm going out again. I'll spray and curse and curse and spray (thank god the neighbors are on vacation) until I'm satisfied that I have wrought death and destruction upon some poor little creatures who just want to spend some time at my house. Do I feel bad? Yes and no. I wish they hadn't exhibited such poor judgment, but in doing so they left me little choice but to KILL, KILL, KILL them. I also worry about the spray coming back on me and waking up with a mutated face. Well, if so maybe I can get work as an Elizabeth Taylor look-alike.
Here are, in no order, my least favorite members of the "natural" world:
bees, used to be allergic to them, now just ridiculously frightened of them
deer flies, biting mouth parts (I think they're called black flies here in New York)
mosquitoes, now that they bite me because I have iron-rich blood
moose: they're not afraid of anybody
bears: they're stupid but more afraid than moose
badgers: scary as hell
bats: at least when they're in my window fan
skunks, well you know why
I know it seems like I don't like nature at all, but think about all the animals I do like: birds, fish, deer, elk, bunnies, snakes . . .
What aspects of nature do you like and/or not like? Don't worry, I won't tell the Sierra Club if you say you don't like spotted owls. C'mon, let's see some posting here, and thanks Jess, You're a trooper.
Gotta go; I got me some killing to do.
Rambo
That said, I now want to state that while nature is great, it needs to stay the f--- away from my house. You might know from my earlier post that I recently encountered a bat in my window fan, dead (its mouth open in a silent shriek) but in my house nonetheless. Now it's bees. Bees that are going into a gap between a window and the outside wall of my house. Yes, going in. And they're going into my bedroom. So last night it was a trip to Lowes to get outdoor spray (I mean real poison here) that shoots 20 ft. into the air. Except it didn't. But by standing on the edge of my side porch and reaching as far as I could, I got the spray to hit my target and drenched the shit out of my beloved old house, which now has two windows covered with a drippy substance that probably looks like you-know-what (I know you know).
This morning as soon as I'm done with this post, I'm going out again. I'll spray and curse and curse and spray (thank god the neighbors are on vacation) until I'm satisfied that I have wrought death and destruction upon some poor little creatures who just want to spend some time at my house. Do I feel bad? Yes and no. I wish they hadn't exhibited such poor judgment, but in doing so they left me little choice but to KILL, KILL, KILL them. I also worry about the spray coming back on me and waking up with a mutated face. Well, if so maybe I can get work as an Elizabeth Taylor look-alike.
Here are, in no order, my least favorite members of the "natural" world:
bees, used to be allergic to them, now just ridiculously frightened of them
deer flies, biting mouth parts (I think they're called black flies here in New York)
mosquitoes, now that they bite me because I have iron-rich blood
moose: they're not afraid of anybody
bears: they're stupid but more afraid than moose
badgers: scary as hell
bats: at least when they're in my window fan
skunks, well you know why
I know it seems like I don't like nature at all, but think about all the animals I do like: birds, fish, deer, elk, bunnies, snakes . . .
What aspects of nature do you like and/or not like? Don't worry, I won't tell the Sierra Club if you say you don't like spotted owls. C'mon, let's see some posting here, and thanks Jess, You're a trooper.
Gotta go; I got me some killing to do.
Rambo
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Whatchu reading?
I love summer reading when I actually get to do it. Last summer I was in New Jersey because my mom was really ill, and I read an entire composition book and a bunch of true crime books that my brother got from the Bergenfield Public Library. I had a copy of Mark Doty's Dog Years with me in NJ, and I would read to my mother from it every day when she was in intensive care. I had that book and a novel with me, and I asked her each time which one she wanted and she would say (well, not really say because she had a big respirator in her mouth) that she wanted the dog book. So, one day I got to a passage in which Doty talks about the death of one of his dogs, and I didn't know what to do. I read on and cried through part of it; today my mother told me that she doesn't remember any of it. But of course it made me think about how much texts can move us and help us through those times that are tough, to say the least.
So this summer my mother's doing great, and I'm happy to say that I'm reading all kinds of good books. Here are a few of them:
The Sweet Hereafter by Russell Banks
The Pajamaist by Matthew Zapruder
A Parade of Hands by James Hoch
Leave the Building Quickly by Cynthia Kaplan
Rule of the Bone by Russell Banks
Collected Poems Kenneth Patchen
So what are you reading?
So this summer my mother's doing great, and I'm happy to say that I'm reading all kinds of good books. Here are a few of them:
The Sweet Hereafter by Russell Banks
The Pajamaist by Matthew Zapruder
A Parade of Hands by James Hoch
Leave the Building Quickly by Cynthia Kaplan
Rule of the Bone by Russell Banks
Collected Poems Kenneth Patchen
So what are you reading?
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Wildlife
In central New York we have houses surrounded by trees, trees, and more trees. We have tidy lawns that end in tall flowers, vines and assorted other ground covers that probably include poison ivy, sumac, whatever. So, it's little surprise when nature finds its way inside. Yesterday it was a little nature in my window fan -- a bat, dead thank goodness. A bat, not cut by a fan blade, but stiff and intact with its mouth open as if it gave out some horrifying scream right before it expired. How'd I get it out? I took the back off the fan and dumped the bat in the backyard, nowhere near where the last bat went, the one that was right by Missy's food dish. that was two years ago. I guess I can handle one bat every two years.
The thing is, nature has a way of letting us know we can't just expect to take over and not have some feedback from those critters whose places we've taken. In NJ it's opossums. They get hit by cars, of course, but they still keep coming back, and bears now, and raccoons, skunks and deer. In central NY it's turkeys, deer, skunks, foxes, raccoons, bats (obviously): have I left anything off the list?
So what you got where you live? Any bears looking in the window? Any deer eating your tomatoes? Any bats in your belfry?
The thing is, nature has a way of letting us know we can't just expect to take over and not have some feedback from those critters whose places we've taken. In NJ it's opossums. They get hit by cars, of course, but they still keep coming back, and bears now, and raccoons, skunks and deer. In central NY it's turkeys, deer, skunks, foxes, raccoons, bats (obviously): have I left anything off the list?
So what you got where you live? Any bears looking in the window? Any deer eating your tomatoes? Any bats in your belfry?
Friday, August 1, 2008
Peacin' Out Again
Yesterday we (the Mohawk Valley Peace Coalition) set up our Food For Thought table at the Clinton Farmers' Market. We didn't have much luck, but a few really nice people stopped by, and I finally put up a "thought" on our bulletin board. We have cut out paper in the shapes of fruits and veggies and we ask people to write down something they think we all should be thinking about. We tell them it doesn't have to be something about peace, and people have written about happiness and other related issues. Here's what I wrote:
It's the things we carry with us, and the people who help us carry them, that make our lives worth living.
My daughter Alicia asked what I meant by "things" and I told her, you know our burdens and joys and all that stuff. I left it vague on purpose -- reader interpretation and all that.
So dear readers, whoever you are (yes, Nick and Jess I expect a post) what would you write on our bulletin board if you could be here in Clinton, NY, and there was something you wanted us all to think about?
I'll add this final thought: wherever you are, whoever you are, you've got a really important job coming up in November, so rest up, get ready, practice your button pushing or ballot writing, or poll booth arm pulling. We've got a new president to elect and a war to stop.
Peace Out Everybody, and if you're good I promise my next post won't be political. Hell, maybe I'll put in a new poem if I get it done. I know, big deal -- something to look forward to.
It's the things we carry with us, and the people who help us carry them, that make our lives worth living.
My daughter Alicia asked what I meant by "things" and I told her, you know our burdens and joys and all that stuff. I left it vague on purpose -- reader interpretation and all that.
So dear readers, whoever you are (yes, Nick and Jess I expect a post) what would you write on our bulletin board if you could be here in Clinton, NY, and there was something you wanted us all to think about?
I'll add this final thought: wherever you are, whoever you are, you've got a really important job coming up in November, so rest up, get ready, practice your button pushing or ballot writing, or poll booth arm pulling. We've got a new president to elect and a war to stop.
Peace Out Everybody, and if you're good I promise my next post won't be political. Hell, maybe I'll put in a new poem if I get it done. I know, big deal -- something to look forward to.
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