Kindness

Today I want to give credit where it is due- to my readers. Thanks for hanging in with me for these last four or five years. I was digging through old blog posts, trying to find a particular one- more on that in a minute- and it made me think about who reads this and just what the hell we all get out of the experience.

Hopefully, I'm showing a bit of my world. This morning, I'm in my heavy red bathrobe, sipping hot coffee and trying to come to life before I go do my weightlifting. I'm in the office portion of the house. The office is part of my dressing room, on the second floor, with no door and just my old dresser and a rack for hanging clothes. And make up, and hair stuff, and a mirror, and a rocking chair that my sister Patti gave me. The heater is on because it's 27 degrees outside. However, it's predicted to get up to about 60 today. First time we've seen 60 since October. If you've read my blog even once, you'll know that I'm not excited about Spring. Oh, it's a lovely season and it's neat to see the world wake up from a long slumber. Except that we didn't have any slumber this year. I'd say we had less than 3 inches of snow in total for the entire year. You might imagine that as someone whose favorite necklace is a snowflake pendant, I want more. We've even gone to visit snow in the mountains. The ski areas up here have had very few operational days, and ski tourism is out all over the state and in Idaho. Boo. *sips coffee*

Back to the world. Our old house is from the turn of the century, around 1900. The owners put in modern carpet and put in new drywall. The original doors are still up and the weird nooks and crannies that go with the architecture of a peaked roof are naturally still in place. Our bedroom has angled ceilings that slope such that we have few places where we can strategically place the bed without banging our heads every time we go to sleep. I love it. The only thing I don't love is the tiny kitchen. We have the upstairs and half of the down. The other half is walled off- along with (probably) the other half of the kitchen! The owners use their half of the bottom as an office. I think besides the drafts in the winter- you can stick fingers through the sliding windows- these are the only downside of the house. It's wonderfully located and the owners are quiet, only showing up a few days a week and never early. With a Starbucks, a pizza place, and a grocery store within 200 meters of the front door and an easy mile walk to work, I couldn't imagine a better place for us for now.

I get up earlier these days, 5, 5:30, 6 ish. Going to bed between 8 and 9 is better for me, even if it's not more fun. I'm more productive in the mornings. I get to go work out if I get up in time, and since I do most of my grading online, I can knock some of it out in the mornings. I like to have a little time alone too, to think and write and read. I do love reading for pleasure. Most of my life follows a routine: wake up, get around, work, teach, work, teach, teach, teach, volunteer hours, grading, home, dinner, sleep. I get the workouts in where I can. I often get a yoga class in once a week, though I try for twice.  Since G and I both work so much, we eat lunch as our big meal and usually just have something light for dinner. On the weekends, it's travel.

My life seems to be missing something, and indeed it is.  I miss my little kitty, Eleanor. I miss her about as much as I thought I would. Her presence was pervasive in my life for almost 19 years. I must have burst into tears a dozen times the first day she was gone. And the second day. On the third day it was less. Now the rawness is gone, but I feel as though I am missing something or someone important, like a low-grade fever. You can ignore it for awhile but eventually you have to get some rest. On Saturday the vet called to say her ashes were back. I hope by saying that here, I get up the guts to go get her.  Nobody has said to me: Eleanor was just a cat. Because DUH, I know that. Nobody has said "get over it". That might be because nobody would say such a thing to my face or even online.

Everyone has been kind. Like really kind. My veterinarian's office sent me a handwritten card. My in-laws sent me flowers and a sweet note. My former student came by with hugs and flowers too. It's just too much to list how many nice things people have said- in text message, Facebook messages, phone calls, and notes.

Thank you. So, so much. When we figure out how and where we will be, G and I will adopt another rescue pet. The Nevada SPCA is where Eleanor came from. I think shelter animals are often the best kind.

Now, if you're still reading this, I'm hoping you can help me out. GR asked a question about a blog where I talk about hunting, and a friend of mine who hunts, and how I reconciled his philosophy with my own. I can't find the damn thing anywhere. I looked at every post between the first one and the time I met G. Zilch. If you run across it, can you alert me in the comments or email me? That would be awesome. Thanks!

My quarter at school is coming to a close. Two more weeks, then a week of relaxation. Ok, planning. Then I'm teaching 4 classes. Two is considered a full load for tenured faculty; three for non tenured.  It's going to be busy. I'm looking forward to it though. I was invited to teach an honors course in academic research; just up my alley. I'm not sure how I'm going to pull this off and retain my sanity. I love to be busy, like really busy.  But my days are already full and I'm not willing to give up sleep or gym time. Sometimes I feel like a juggler with too many balls in the air; every week, some ball will get dropped and I will have to remember to be kind to myself about the whole mess. I will make it through, probably laughing with all the new stuff I learn from students. They think I'm the teacher. Little do they know they are the reason I'm here.

Have a good weekend.

Geeking Out

I know I am a total dork and that this will rat me out, but I have a confession to make. 

I love course planning. 

Love it. 

Getting all professorly in anticipation

I ordered books a few months ago. 

Now I'm planning daily activities for four classes. 

The philosophy department is right next to English

I've got a regular Eng 101 class. Easy as pie. I love teaching one section of writing. It's online.

There are two Intro to Lit classes. We're reading some fun stuff, like Oleanna, A Raisin in the Sun, and some short stories. We're also reading some challenging materials like Waiting for the Barbarians and Innocent Erendira. Also lots of fun. These are my face to face classes.

And then there's my most challenging class: a Global Perspectives in Literature course. It's junior level and every single reading is tough. I'm throwing students in the deep end and hoping they swim. 

That one is online. It's going to be the class I have to pay the most attention to. 

I love, love, love this. And I can't wait until the start of the quarter next week. 

In Washington, most of the colleges are on a quarter system and start late in September. In the 1880s when the state began, schools did not commence until after the harvest had finished. We're still doing it. 

Source: www.lovethesepics.com 

Everyday Housewife

Much of my adult life has been spent in search of an in maintaing a semblence of normality.  When I was younger, life life was chaotic. Chaotic childhood, chaotic adolescence and the shifting sands of moving and settling in and moving again.  Somehow I managed to maintain a few friendships and I decided in 6th grade that I didn't really need to make anymore new friends since the new town we'd moved to was probably a stopping place anyway.  Except that I spent the next 8 years there. Shoulda made more friends.

My daily routine when I was 22 and living in Port Angeles, Washington revolved around work and my social life. I'd get up around 9, go jogging probably twice a week, get a shower and go to coffee.  I had learned to make friends again by then. My little group hung out at Pete's Pancake House (it's now a glassblowing shop) and we'd chain smoke, sip coffee, order breakfast or french fries and talk forever.  Nobody had cell phones. It was 1994. I'd go to work at 3 and get off at 11 at the local Red Lion Hotel. There were days for laundry, days for driving my 77 Thunderbird across the state to see my mom and grandparents, occasional days for dates and lots of comforting friendships.  There was a lot of rain. I also lived by The General Store in PA, and often went to the little coffee stand out front for a 4-shot latte. Those were good times and lean times, sometimes filled with sun but often fraught with worry and care.

When I was 32, I lived in Norman, Oklahoma.  My life was consumed with school and work. I'd get up at 8 and be to work at OU by 9, edit, read drafts and give fellow graduate students advice on their papers, take some healthy piece of food with me and a protein bar.  I rode my bicycle everywhere and lived in a small 4-plex just three blocks north of campus.  I ran 5 miles several times a week and had a jogging buddy.  On Sundays, I would go jogging, drive the 127 miles to Tulsa and work out at my dojo, then teach a yoga class there, then drive home.  I would often be up until 3 a.m.  There was a small group of animals that regularly visited my house at night- six cats, an opossum and a small skunk.  I fed them.  My life was exhausting, and I struggled to find meaning and my place in the world.  My ex-husband drove by my house every day for years-hence the jogging buddy and the dojo. I felt haunted.

Now I'm looking at 40 next month. I walk to work every day that I possibly can.  I don't drive much anymore and our family only has one car. We don't need two. I'm married- still newly so- and we live in Washington. Life is simple. I teach and do research. It's cold in the winters and so far, it feels like it will warm up for spring and summer. Grey keeps us healthy and does a lot of the cooking. After work, I walk home and we go work out at "The Gym" down the street. They're nice people. On weekends, we go to Seattle, we stay home, we visit small towns nearby.  It's a good life. It's not where I thought I'd end up when I graduated from high school over 20 years ago.  I'm not sure that we've actually "ended up" yet. I just can't predict how life will go.

I used to think this would be me: Married to Glen Campbell. 

Just kidding. I thought I'd make a good housewife, that I'd settle, that I would somehow be noble.
Turns out I'm not that.

I was, for a time, this.

Now, I'm this.

Have a good weekend.  The farmer's market starts back up on Saturday, so you know where to find me.