gratitude

(extends an electronic bouquet to the readers)

I like the version of Valentine's Day that we learn (hopefully) in grade school: that this is not just a day for flowers and chocolates and a special someone, but for shared affection and friendship. Thanks to all of you for reading, commenting and generally helping my progress along.

I'll even share my chocolate.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: zero

shoes and ships and sealing wax

I've been very naughty - I spent the weekend reading for fun and ignored my e-mail and in-box full of lessons. Three books later - one biography, one novel [thanks, eileen!] and one historic crime examination) and I feel far more human. E-mail can wait until tomorrow.

Words Written: ZERO!!!
Lessons Graded: ZERO!!!! Hurrah!! huzzah!

many waters cannot quench...

In case you've not heard elsewhere, the Prince of Wales and Camilla Parker-Bowles are getting married in April. They will have a civil ceremony at Windsor Castle, followed by a time of prayer, led by the Archbishop of Canturbury. When Charles becomes king, she will be known as "Princess Consort" rather than as Queen.

Plenty has already been said and I'm sure will be said about the couple, their romantic history and the marriage. What I find particularly interesting is the role being played by the Church of England in all of this. The Anglican communion is already grappling with the issue of homosexuality among the clergy. The previous Archbishop of Canturbury made it clear that he opposed this union, stating that a divorced person could not legitimately remarry until the death of the other spouse. He (and many others) argued that while Jesus called us to love and forgive, he also forbade taking more than one spouse, and that divorce and remarriage was exactly that.

Given his willingness to officiate at a prayer ceremony following the marriage, it is clear that the present Archbishop does not oppose the union as strongly, but is still unwilling to give the official sanction. (Note: Diana, Princess of Wales is dead, but Andrew Parker-Bowles is still alive.) It is my understanding that he is opposed to homosexual clergy, whether celibate or not. This is certainly not a dull time to be a part of the Anglican communion.

I've already seen eight different lists of possible candidates to replace Pope John Paul II. Inevitably, such lists include speculations as to how the Roman Catholic church mght change under a new pope. One list quietly pointed out that Americans are a single-digit percentage of the world's Catholics. The next pontiff, said the author, would probably not have significant ties to America, as the sexual abuse lawsuits and perception of moral laxity do not impress. Truly not a dull time to be a Roman Catholic, either.

On the fourth Sunday of Advent, the preacher asked all of us to set aside our differences for a moment. He observed that each of us knows the arguments of those with whom we disagree. Yes, these differences are important, and we should work with them and through them. Yet as we do this, he asked us to pray for mutual understanding, mutual forgiveness, mutual compassion and mutual patience. Christ called us to love each other, meaning everyone. He loved the sinners as much as he loved the disciples. I deeply hope and believe that all of these challenges can be met, if we remember to bring that love with us.

Words Written: took lots of notes
Lessons Graded: six

correction

The title should read On the Banks of Plum Creek. In my vocabulary-induced confusion, I switched the wording around with By the Shores of Silver Lake.

Bad teacher. Points will be deducted.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: I'm hitting burn-out and need some time off...

what's in a word?

All right, vocabulary experts: can anyone help me with the difference between a creek and a stream? The dictionary had something about creeks being connected to swamps but streams could also be creeks.

By the Banks of Plum Creek, for example - what is it that makes Plum Creek a creeek and not a stream?

Words Written: none, nada, zip. Fell asleep instead
Lessons Graded: not enough

bah! humbug!

Sam and I thoroughly enjoyed yesterday's walk. We're having a typical Indiana mid-winter thaw these days, warm enough for just a light-jacket, yet with enough of a chilly edge to the air that February never goes far from my thoughts. The muddy ground sticks to Sam's paws, only to come off on the one stubborn patch of ice that clings to the front walk.

The precocious neighbor child spotted the two of us and ran over to scratch Sam's ears. She loves dogs, and thinks that I am cool (me?) because I can recite a few of Shel Silverstein's poems. "So, Lemming, are you excited about tonight's game?"

I am not cool. I only knew about Super Bowl Sunday happening yesterday and the names of the two teams involved because I read blogs. Luckily I have gleaned enough information (one of the first processes you master in graduate school) from said reading that I could respond, "why yes! Go Pats!" She sighed. "Do you really think so?"

By now Sam was a furry mass of canine delight, rubbing his head against her hands.

The truth: I think televised football is one of the dullest things on the planet. To borrow George Will's line, football is violence punctuated by committee meetings. Watching the game in person is much more interesting. Without commentators and random lines drawn all over the field, I can simply sit back and enjoy the game. If I want to watch my team's cheerleaders challenge the other team's cheerleaders to a push-up contest, instead of focusing upon the second down, I can. (Yes, I do know what a second down is, thank you very much. I heard the snickers.) The scoreboard is much more intersting in person, and I love all of the noise.

Super Bowl parties are great fun because there's always plenty of good food and plenty of laughter at the commercials. On only one occasion did I ever attend a party at which people watched the game all the way through.

This is not what I said to the precocious neighbor child, who has but to ask and Sam would reveal the location of his Swiss bank account. "Well, you see, many years ago my church youth group had a Super Bowl Party. I've forgotten the name of the other team, but the Patriots lost by a lot. Since the Red Sox won this year, I'd like to see New England win, too."

Preccocious one furrows her forehead. "Lemming, is Boston in New England?"

Words Written: zero (more freelance work)
Lessons Graded: thirty-six

results

Yes, I went. Yes, it was an amazing talk. Yes, the party was terrific. Alas, #3 and #4 were not in attendence, so I was unable to casually ask what they thought of Chapter Two.

I had about ten minutes with the scholar, during which I managed to blurt out a detailed yet brief summary of Chapter Two, the problems with Ralph, and my latest productive writing. Scholar asked a question or two, admired my argument (!!) then asked if I'd tried contacting a particular archive.

Why, no, I hadn't. (I'd thought of asking my advisor [may he live forever] if he had any ideas how to approach the archive, but thought I'd wait to get a reply to my last two messages before sending a third.)

Well, then, I should e-mail Name of Actual Person, mention that said scholar sent me, and ask about Ralph and his friends. Scholar hoped I would keep in touch about how the search went. Woo-hoo!

Words Written: two hundred and six
Lessons Graded: twenty-one (early in the AM so as to attend the festivities)

of groundhogs

Much as I love changing seasons, winter is the one that wears thin after a while. That having been said, February 2 seems a bit early to expect spring.

I do think it very funny that the Super Bowl is late this year and Ash Wednesday is early.

For a great piece about Important State of the Union Addresses of the past, History News Network's latest article is terrific. It even has pictures!

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: forty-nine, plus three cheaters

pizza toppings

A flier for a national pizza chain arrived in today's mail. They produce tasty pizzas, but hardly gourmet product. Yet (conjunction) the topping list doesn't say "mushrooms" but "baby portabella mushrooms."

I'm trying to juggle my schedule to attend a talk by a visiting historian. I am more excited about attending this talk and the accompanying party than, well, my grandmother probably was when Frank Sinatra came to town. I suppose swooning in the historian's arms would probably be more unusual than baby portabella mushrooms, but it would make me memorable at least.

If I feel really brave, I might even ask to have my badly battered, much marked-up copy of his latest book autographed.

Words Written: four hundred and six - a really promising tangent!
Lessons Graded: forty-one (groan!)

the mist before my eyes

I've thought of a perfectly good reason why my advisor (may his good health continue) hasn't answered either of my messages. As it does not involve his ill health or demise, I'll relax for a little on that score.

I'm trying to go back to the train wreck of Chapter One, now that I have the really great idea from my former student, at least until I hear from someone. Reading about what I'm going to add is proving easy, but looking at the dratted thing and seeing how far I have to go is more difficult.

Just to clarify: I'm not wild about having Ms Rice as our Sec of State. Her refusal to answer questions about the weapons of mass destruction, and anger when this was pointed out, worry me. Though she's qualified, I could wish for someone with a bit more experience. (I could also wish for the snow to melt and the temp to reach 75.) Her appointment sends a strong message to Europe, as do her scheduled visits abroad; I'm not sure that this is the message we should be sending.

I do have more faith in Rice's intellect and capability than in some other folks presently in government, and am pleased to see women in positions of authority. (Ruth Bader Ginsburg swore her in, also nice.) I don't have the energy to be angry for four more years, so I am trying very hard to look (and work) for the positives.

Evan Bayh for president? Hmmm. Maybe. I think he was on Kerry's short list for V-P, which woudl have been interesting. It would be nice to show the country that not all Indiana Senators are like Dan Quayle. (I can hear the Indiana bloggers call out "Lugar!" Good point, but I doubt that your average Iowa blogger knows Lugar's home state.)

Words Written:
Lessons Graded:

Lemming's Lament(s)

Progress of the Lemming, now speeding rapidly off the cliff - zero.

I've hit a massive brick wall with Chapter Three, thanks to Ralph and a few of his peers.

#3 and #4 have yet to send a smoke signal my way.

I've sent two e-mails to my advisor (may he live forever) in the last week and he has responded to neither. (This is comparable to me going without caffeine for a week: unheard of.)

The editor is now obsessed with convincing me that sentences can begin with conjunctions, and likes to send me further examples of its correctness.

I realize that there are plenty of people in the world with much larger problems than mine at the moment, so I'll shush. Wallowing in self-pity will solve none of this.

On a very different note, I am surprised and intrigued to learn that Sen. Evan Bayh (D-IN) was one of the 13 to vote against making Rice Sec. of State. I expected no votes from, say, Kennedy and Boxer, but 13 nays interests me greatly. NPR said that this is the largest number of nays for this post, second only to a 1925 vote that I know nothing about, but probably should.

It's hardly surprising that I like seeing an intellegent and educated woman in such an important position, though I am saddened to note that she achieved all of this by not having a family. (Yes, it's possible that she didn't want one, I know, I know.)

(Scurries off to read more about it.)

Words Written: zero (sigh)
Lessons Graded: thirty-one It never ends...

this is the wattle, the symbol of our land...

Happy Australia Day everyone!

On this day in 1788, the first ship full of convicts arrived in Australia, near present-day Sydney.

It is not the feast Day of St. Francis Xavier, patron of Australia. It is the feast day of Titus, who is invoked againist free thinking. Who says the Vatican doesn't have a sense of humor?

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: twenty-nine

I don't like those numbers. I need to stop chasing after Ralph and work on something else.

clouds of qualm

Today's mail included:

1) my credit card bill. The rate has been raised again.

2) an offer from the same credit card company to get a new card at a lower rate of interest

3) an offer from another company for a credit card at an even lower rate of interest

I realize that credit card companies need to attract new customers, and that a low rate attracts more folks than does the chance for a card with angels or dogs on it. I understand that the credit card folks assume that I won't notice the rate change.

It's still silly.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: thirty-six

Bing! Bang! Alakazam!

One of the constantly surprising and wonderful parts of teaching, now that I've been at it for, er, well, since Clinton's first term anyway, are the occasional students who stay in touch after the class is over. Usually contact is limited to an occasional out-of-the-blue postcard sent from Gettysburg or Seneca Falls. I love these postcards, and have a small stache of them - they prove to me, during the dark tea times of the soul, that I've managed to make something about American history come to life in a powerful way.

Every now and then, I'll stumble into something more constant. One student (now a history teacher) shares my taste in novels, so we swap reading suggestions. Another comes through Indiana once a year and insists on taking me out for drinks and dinner.

One student, the only one to whom I have ever suggested graduate work, asked to read Chapter Two. He called to chat yesterday, raising some great questions and even throwing my suggestions to him back at me. Conversation then turned to Chapter One. "Oh," said I, "it's a mess. The ideas are there, but badly organized. It needs some serious revision before I'd let you see it."

"Really? Oh. Well, I'd love to see it when you can. Based on what you've said in Chapter Two, I assume that you explain Historical Event X and Historical Trend Y and their connection to your topic. I just read a great book about Y and saw a documentary on X, and they sound very interesting."

My advisor (may he live forever) agreed with me that Chapter One was a promising train wreck and should be ignored for a while and allowed to percolate, as neither of us had a clue how to fix it. Did explaining Event X and Trend Y and their connections ever occur to us? Nope.

Said former student has just secured a place in the acknowledgments.

The cold that arrived on the 13th of January is still with me. No, I didn't use the pills, syrup and batteries to make methamphetamine, though that might have been a more effective use.

Words Written: none, but I'm pretty psyched to tackle #1 again!
Lessons Graded: twenty-nine

bothered and bewildered

Let the dog out. Let the dog in. Let the dog out. Let the dog in. Let the dog out. Let the dog in.

Maybe this is why the diss is taking so long.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: thirty, with another dozen to go

Everybody's Got the Right to be Happy

I like to throw goofy extra credit questions on my exams. Usually they will draw on something I've said in class that students probably didn't write down, but was just goofy enough that it might have clung to their brains. For example, President Polk once had gall bladder surgery without anesthesia. Just for variety, I might add a university question, such as the name of the Dean of Students or that year's commencement speaker. My favorite question thus far? "The 'W' in George W. Bushis name is short for --?"

Few very students know the answer, but I do get some hilarious guesses.

Ralph (his real name) is proving very elusive as a research topic

Words Written: lots of books thrown around the room
Lessons Graded: fifteen

will work for coffee

Thanks for the writing support everyone. I feel much better. My (edited) prose will still appear with lots of dependent clauses, but I have the satisfaction of being right. That and $1.50 will buy me a cup of coffee. When the editor is done, I will be able to afford several cups of coffee, so everything is linked in the end.

I'm very fond of my mailman. No, no, I'm not fond of him in that way. (He does have a very nice smile.) After all, this is the person who shows up at my door with my boxes from Amazon. Anticipating what #3 and #4 might say, I placed a big book order a few weeks ago that Amazon had to split up. Those boxes, combined with some late Christmas gifts, meant that the mailman dropped a box off at my door every day for six days in a row. I happened to be at the mailbox when he showed up today. "I'm sorry Mizz Lemming, no books today, but you do have four book catalogs."

Happiness is...

Speaking of happiness, it's been bitterly cold for the last few days. Sam sprints outside three times a day to take care of business, then runs back in as quickly as possible. Yet at walk time, he is convinced 1) that we're going and 2) it won't be cold. I love my dog. I will walk him in the rain, and in the dark, and on a train. I will not walk him when the wind chill means that the temps are below freezing. After three days of this, he's taken to sulking.
Words Written: Ralph? who on earth names their child Ralph?
Lessons Graded: fifteen

conjunction junction

Being as my blog-readers are a smart and savvy group, probably more than capable of identifying a clause, I'll share my latest grammar struggle with you.

Is it correct to begin a sentence with a conjunction?

Based upon repeated viewings of the Schoolhouse Rock song "Conjunction Junction" I've always felt that since conjunctions join two parts of a sentence, they needed to be in the middle someplace. My advisor (may he live forever) does not allow his students to start a sentence with a conjunction, though his definition is far more eloquent than the one I just gave.

However, I've just been informed by an editor that this is an out-dated rule, one rarely followed today. Is this true? Am I out-of-date?

Words Written: did another big sheet of paper for the wall
Lessons Graded: twelve

Dreams

Neil took his first class from me about a year ago. From the first sentence of his first quiz, he impressed me with his very interesting and original ideas and his utter inability to express most of them clearly. With a lot of digging and jotting notes to myself on scratch paper, I could work out his meaning, and it was always fresh and new, but buried under mounds of errors in syntax, punctuation, grammar and spelling.

I'm not trained in the teaching of basic grammar skills. I'm still not sure how to define "clause" or "participle." I did present Neil with an extra copy of the Chicago Manual of Style and tried to explain that we don't write the way we speak and that sometimes the best proof-reading happens when an essay is read out loud. I circled and crossed out mistakes, and tried to rewrite sentences. I crossed my fingers.

(Here Sam rolls his eyes and thumps his tail in weary understanding... He's probably heard more of my prose than anyone has or can ever read. I digress.)

One class was not enough. Neil signed up for a second and a third. ("I'm going to get a minor in Professor Lemming!") Slowly but slowly, his prose has gotten better and the terrific ideas have really begun to shine through. He's gained in confidence as well, learning that his instincts are good and his family's many road trips to historic sites can inform his writing, actively and passively. (I am convinced that his folks must own a camper, as Neil has family snapshots from all over the country.) The writing is still a struggle, particularly homophones. He has mastered the correct use of it's and its, which delights me no end.

The department gave Neil an extension for his latest class, so that he could attend a family funeral. His final exam crossed my desk today. He managed to fill a blue book (all pages and the back cover) with his usual brilliance, without a single error in spelling or grammar. Thrilled to bits, I dropped him an e-mail with the results.

Naturally his delighted reply included three misused their/theres and a plural subject with a singular verb. I don't care. HE DID IT!!! This means that someday, somehow, he will do it again.

The popular slogan, at least in Indiana, is to make MLK day "A Day On, Not a Day Off." Instead of sleeeping in and shopping at the mall, MLK calls us to do something positive and productive for others with our time. Neil has earned a day off - but only one. Tomorrow, I expect him to be on. After all, this semester means class #4, and I expect him to do it again.

Words Written: (hits head againist heavy object)
Lessons Graded: one

digging out

On Thursday most of the neighborhood was underwater. I awoke this morning to the sound of a snowblower.

The weather has been pleasantly warm for winter - mittens only needed for the evening walk with Sam, and I've no idea where my hats might be at the moment. Now it's bitterly cold, and supposed to grow even colder.

To top it all off, the Jets lost yesterday, yet IU won in double overtime!

Nothing can compare to the constancy of an Indiana winter.

Words Written: writing a book review
Lessons Graded: twelve

Chicken Soup Needed

It is raining today, for the umpteenth day in a row. Everything is flooding, and one neighbor has despaired of having a backyard and now jokes about waterskiing.

I confess! I confess! I am a failed criminal. Probably thanks to all of the wet days, I woke up this morning with a dreadful cold. Of course I am out of cold meds. As I'm on my way out the door, my neighbor with the lake asked if I would mind purchasing some cold pills and cough syrup. No problem.

Some of you may already have guessed what happened next. With three boxes of cold pills, a bottle of cough syrup and a package of batteries in hand, I had some of the elements needed to make methamphetamine. Far from taking pity on a sneezing graduate student with work to do, I was a person of suspicion. The clerk asked me some pointed questions and explained that I would have to put back two of the cold pills.

On a more serious note, I'd like to thank everyone who has given blood in the last six weeks. Another neighbor, the kind of neighbor who only seems to exist in fiction as she's so nice, is in her third day in the hospital and getting frequent blood transfusions. As the advertisement says, you're saving a life while sitting at work. Thank you.

Words Written: free-lance project done!
Lessons Graded: twenty-two

groceries

I seem to have passed into an intermediate stage of adulthhood in that I don't get carded when purchasing alcohol, but cashiers instead ask for my date of birth. I'm always tempted to give another birthday and see if I can talk them into it - am I five years older than my actual age? Ten?

The week's grocery purchases included a bottle of red wine, and the cashier threw me a curve ball by asking for my age instead of my birthday. I honestly couldn't remember for a moment, which she thought very funny.

There's no word yet from #3 and #4. I'm starting to wonder what would happen if I sent them Chapter 3 before getting comments on Chapter 2. This is pie in the sky, really, as the chapter is still very much in its infancy.

Words Written: more free-lance work done
Lessons Graded: sixteen

St. Vitalis

No, I hadn't heard of him until today. (I'm praying my way through the saints, can you tell?) Sez in my guidebook that in the year 500, St. V. left his private meditations and traveled to Alexandria to convert prostitutes. Every night he would purchase the services of a lady, and then pray with her until dawn rather than, er, sample her wares. Eventually his frequent visits to brothels attracted public notice and St. V. was killed - you can probably fill in the details.

There are many kinds of courage, and I hope that I have some of them, but I don't know that I could do as he (and plenty of more recent folks) did.

Words Written: lots, but none on the diss (freelance project)
Lessons Graded: thirty-one

more music confessions

There's music that is great (Wagnerian opera) and then there's music that is fun (Gilbert & Sullivan Opperettas.) Though the greatness factor to G & S can and probably is debated by folks who actually know something about music history and technique, I must say that I'm far more likely to hum "I Am A Pirate King" than any of Wagner's leit motifs.

Though certainly not great, an awful lot of early 1980s pop is fun. I ran lots of errands today and heard "Walking on Sunshine" by Katrina and the Waves no less than five times. I would not claim greatness for this song, and it's several steps below even G & S on their worst days ( The Grand Duke anyone? Bueler?) but everytime that it popped on, I found myself happily singing along.

Yes, the woman whose computer is obsessed with Liza M. dares to make such assertions. It is it is a glorious thing to be a lemming (Hurrah for Professor Lemming!)

Words Written: kept 95% of what I did this weekend, and added another 678
Lessons Graded: does no one know how to use the apostrophe?!

amusing

Scott (aged 8): Mizz Lemming, I have to do a report for school, and my mother says you know all about American History. Can you help me?

Lemming: Sure, no problem. (Utters silent prayer that this question not be about battles of the Pacific during WW II)

Scott: Well, I need to know about Paul Revere.

Lemming (much relieved): Well, midnight ride, courier to Congress, etc. etc. and fathered twenty children.

Scott's Mother: Hmmm. Explains why he had to take a second job.

Words Written: five hundred and six
Lessons Graded: going to need more coffee

better mood

Just when I'm prepared to be comfortably cold and miserable, Don at Hands in the Dirt composes an entry that makes the maudlin and mundane elements of cold and wet days beautiful. Wow.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: the coffee is brewing...

at least it's not a migraine

I had a headache for most of yesterday, and today isn't much better. I can't remember a semester ever beginning this badly, and that includes junior high school. This makes me feel quite sorry for the dean.

The book that I guarentee #3 and #4 will tell me to read still hasn't come out in paperback. The cheapest I can find it is $45 on Amazon. I've checked it out of the library twice, and it gets recalled from me right away. This probably isn't helping my headache any.

One of my favorite bloggers suffers from migraines. He's learned how to handle them over the years, and manages to write about them in a way that conveys the experience without sounding as though he's whining. (He probably doesn't mind a little sympathy, though!) At least I know the cause of my misery and can take some pain-killers for it.

Lesse here... St. Dymphna is patron saint of headaches and insanity. Yup, sounds about right.


Words Written: one hundred and six
Lessons Graded: the first big stack must be started tonight.

Epiphany

Attention students: Yes, X is a stupid policy. I did not make this policy. Yes, I still must abide by this policy, stupid as it is. I like being employed. If I bend the rules even once, the dean will find out and that will be the end of my employment. If you want the rules bent, go ask the dean, who, by the way, makes far more money and has a nicer office.

Whew! Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.

Sam is most unhappy about the continued rain (though it did change to snow for a bit today.) I've tried to explain about Sri Lanka, but he seems disinterested. (Maybe this is because Sam knows about it already, as he does listen to NPR with me.) He just wants to go outside without getting wet.

Not surprisingly, today is the Feast Day of Balthazar, Caspar and Melchior (the three kings of Orient etc.) In one of those "well, that doe smake a lot of sense" moments, they are the patron saints of travelers. I thank them for getting me safely home from the flooded library parking lot.

I've had a really terrific idea for Chapter Three - one too big for the sheets of paper on the wall, which means that it is time to start writing again. Wish me luck and/or light a candle for me, please.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: twenty

soon it's gonna rain

I had my first tsunami-related nightmare last night. Today it's raining - the hard, cold downpour that even I cannot pretend is November rain. This is "January in Indiana" rain. The streams are choked, lower parts of the roads are starting to flood, and everyone is going a little stir-crazy. Even the librarians were making bad jokes about hamster juggling and making sushi out of hermit crabs for story time.

My undergrad advisor once asked if I had any ambition to be a dean. After three days of sending students to talk to my dean, I can say, in all honesty, NO!

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: zero

Comments from #2 arrive!

Having worked Chapter Two as much as we could, the advisor (may his health and prosperity flourish) announced that it was time to send it round to the others. Quite frankly, this is good and bad - good that he thinks it ready, and bad in that, well, it means not one but three more sets of comments.

Professor #2 is essentially happy wth Chapter Two, but does have some excellent if rather challenging suggestions. I think #2 may have come up with the solution to an organizational complication that really had me at a loss.

My advisor (may he live forever) is, as I've said before, a terrific giver of comments. My #2 is as well, but reads for very different things than my advisor. This is hardly surprising, since their specific expertise is in different fields. #2 trusts my style and revisions, and instead focuses upon the overall narrative and ways in which the larger pieces of the diss fit together. Indeed. I think #2 probably has a better sense of this at the moment than I do.

The use or abuse of the semi-colon matters not a bit to #2, and I could fudge the proper format of a footnote and be forgiven. Then again, #2 may trust in the advisor (may he live forever) to take care of this.

Now to await #3 and #4. Their comments will include, I predict, lists of at least twenty more books that I need to read. It is unlikely that any of them will be Dave Barry Does Japan, but I can always dream.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: fifteen

(need to reverse those numbers again...)

the semester begins

Though warm for January (57 F) there's a steady and strong rain falling. At the very least, it feels like November outside.

The term has begun, as of 8 AM. Naturally by the time I checked my e-mail at 1 PM, I already had dozens of messages, more than one of which wanted to know why I hadn't answered the message sent at 8:30. Naturally I can answer none of these messages, as all are the sort of questions which should be sent to the dean or the department administrator. (laughter)

Several students have looked ahead on the syllabus (good) and noted the book review. To my delight, some were given history books as Christmas presents and would like to read them for class. Of course, this will also necessitate that I read these books, and you can just imagine what a hardship it will be for me to read more history books.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: zero

Happy New Year!

(yawns) I've marked the new year by getting a lot of sleep, between 10 and 13 hours a night, with the occasional nap for good measure. Now that I'm properly rested, of course, the semester is about to begin.

With my six month blogging anniversary approaching, not to mention the clean slate of a new year, I'm trying to live up to the title of this blog and MAKE PROGRESS.

Maybe tomorrow.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: zero

all right, all right

As per John's request that his Indiana blog pals contribute, here's my Death Meme. (Greg! You're next!)

Three names you go by:
Lemming
Professor Lemming
Your Imperial Highness (RIP, Sir Fred)

Three screennames you have:
Three wha?

Three things you like about yourself:
I have an excellent memory.
I’m a good, if long-winded, storyteller.
I’m compassionate.

Three parts of your heritage:
Illiterate and outspoken peasants.

Three things that scare you:
Snakes
Large crowds
Cruelty, particularly toward children

Three of your everyday essentials:
Warm socks
Caffeine
Laughter

Three things you are wearing right now:
Warm socks (red)
Arm splint
Contact lenses

Three things you want to try in the next twelve months:
Eating more vegetables
Reading more fiction
Getting more sleep

I must be getting older if these are the first three activities that come to mind... Obviously I'd like to get the diss done, too.

Three things you want in a relationship (love is a given):
Intelligence (must read books, too!)
Humor
Strong religious belief

Patience would also be a big plus, as would a love of music!

Three things you just can't do:
Remember street names
Navigate I-465
Geometry (hmm… any connection between these 3, do you think?)

Three things you want to do really badly right now:
Eat a big breakfast – mushrooms, eggs, toast, jam, sausage and bacon, hash browns, you get the idea – prepared by someone else.
Find out what Sam is dreaming about – his tail is wagging, he’s half-barking, but he’s sound asleep.
Knock off ten pages of my next chapter.

Three careers you're considering:
Interpreter at a living museum such as Old Sturbridge Village
Eccentric millionaire – is anyone hiring?
I don’t think I’m fit for any profession other than what I do right now…

Three places you want to go on vacation:
(I’m assuming that this means “places I’ve never been but would very much like to visit.”)
Wales
Northern Scotland
the Oregon Trail

Three kids names:
Tamsyn
Phillippa
Theophilus

Not that I would ever actually saddle a child with one of these, but I do think they sound and look fantastic.

Three things you want to do before you die:
Read more books
Tell the ones I love how much I love them
Receive Last Rites


Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: zero

the scale of the devastation

Others CPF and TRP in particular) have blogged powerfully about the devastation left in the wake of the 9.0 earthquake.

I'm staggered by the scale of the loss of life. 30, 000 is about the size of a state university. 50, 000 is (I think) the enrollment of OSU, one of the largest in the country. The last I'd heard, the tally stood at something like 67, 000 dead, which is larger than the population of some state capitals.

This string of analogies isn't perfect - the devastation is spread across several countries - but still over-whelming.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: six

sad news

You've probably heard this news already, but Jerry Orbach, star of stage, screen and television, has died at age sixty-nine, due to prostate cancer.

I've logged a great many hours watching this man perform, and written countless papers (even graded a few) while listening to him sing. Though Dick Wolf seems to pretty much dominate the few hours of A & E not already given to Bill Curtis, we did need another Law & Order, if only so that I could spend more time with Jerry-Lennie.

RIP, Mr. Orbach. Sixty-nine seems far too young for us to lose you.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: zero

four calling birds

I hope everyone had a lovely holiday weekend, short though it was. Best wishes to all who are still digging out from under the snow, and a shout out to Washington for finally having recounted the ballots often enough to have new governor.

On Christmas Eve, I read a long newpaper article about the "new old-fashioned" tradition among many Jewish families to go out to a Chinese restaurant for Christmas. This sounds like an excellent tradition; I'd choose hot & sour soup over turkey any day. Maybe if the turkey were stir-fried in a spicy garlic sauce, that does sound like a nice alternative...

I'm trying very hard to relax during my vacation. Several family members gave me movies (all of them English) or mysteries (all of them set near the Atlantic Ocean) for Christmas. I tried to watch a really interesting film yesterday afternoon, and instead ended up taking a four hour nap. I notice that while some families do exchange Scotch or nice wine for Christmas, no one ever gifts sleeping pills.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: two

to all, and to all

Merry Christmas to all.

Wishing you and yours warmth, love, and safe travel over this weekend.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: zero

Hurrah!!

now it's time to say good-bye

Cue the Cambridge Singers and open the Handel score to the appropriate page. Ready?

"Hallelujah! Hallelujah!"

I am done. Done done done, do you hear?

Harken unto me as I shout from the rooftop (er, backyard patio) and sing to me ye angels (or yapping dog next door.) Final grade are IN and I am DONE.

Well, OK, there's that freelance work that was due three weeks ago, and the honest to gosh professional book review that's due in two weeks. That's different. Way way different. Done!

Where's Mariah when I need her?Heck, I'd settle for Liza M.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: DONE DONE DONE!!!!

first snowstorm of the year

There's inches and inches of snow on the ground. I-465 is (or so says the radio) awash in accidents. Yet the school buses are running and I've already seen two dog walkers. Go Hoosiers!

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: eleven left!

challenge, joy and sorrow

My Friday afternoon addiction is the "week in review" quiz put up on-line by The Week Magazine. Each Friday a ten question quiz appears, and I get to find out just how conversant I am with current events. The current offering is a slightly longer Year In Review quiz and great fun... also reminds me that I really should keep up with the news!

The publication date for Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince has been announced: July 16, 2005. To say that I'm REALLY excited would be an understatement. I've been a fan of the series since the first book quietly appeared (apparated!) in bookstores - back when Scholastic thought it would be a small-seller book and didn't bother with any publicity. (gales of laughter) Anyway, don't expect a post from me on the 15th or 16th, except perhaps "Oh, this is fantastic!" and a yawn or six.

Occasionally students will ask me how I would prefer to be addressed. (Professor Lemming) If the student is above a certain age - say 60 - and seems to have a sense of fun, I'll add the joke, "but I've always liked the sound of 'Your Royal Highness.'" Fred (68 years young) took me up on it - all of his e-mails began with the phrase "Your Imperial Highness" and he signed the messages "your humble servant Sir Frederick of Hoosier." Naturally he was an A student and just as funny in class. An e-mail came this morning from Fred's daughter, to say that he had died unexpectedly this weekend. RIP, Sir Fred.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: more stragglers than anticpiated

Hand Over the Ben & Jerry's RIGHT NOW

OK, I take it back. I love almost all Christmas Carols, hymns and satirical pieces, but I do not like "Grown-up Christmas List" at all. This morning I heard versions of this song performed by Amy Grant, Barbra Streisand and a duet that sounded like Pebo Bryson and Vanessa Williams, and all of them were ghastly. I understand the song's purpose and premise, but it's still awful.

I've been grading non-stop last night this morning, and can now look at the pile in terms of "what is left to do" rather than "what I have done" which is a terrific feeling. After I turn in my final grades on12/22, I get some time off, for which I am deeply grateful.

I say "non-stop" - Sam has decided that he needs to go outside about once every seventy minutes, Once he gets outside, Sam quickly realizes that it is REALLY COLD today and decides that he'd like to come back inside and warm up - naturally warming up is best done by lying down at my feet, which makes me cold all over again. An hour later he forgets this whole experience, and spends ten minutes telling me that he REALLY REALLY wants to go outside. I've even tried remonstrating with him - "Sam, for a dog who is at least 50% border collie, you're being awfully dim today." No go - it's imperative that he go outside, then foolish that he did so.

Maybe that's where he's hidden my Christmas presents.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: twenty-six left to go (the stragglers are still handing things in)

Oh yes - an F for plagarizing turns out of be a zero after all. (grin)

good timing to be late

I was late getting out the door to church this morning. The weather forecast last night called for "scattered snowstorns, with no more than a half inch acumulating on the ground." They neglected to mention the 30 m.p.h. winds that blew said half inch of snow all over the roads and through the air. This added still more time onto the drive and my lateness.

All was not lost! Today is the fourth and last Sunday of Advent, so the processional hymn was "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" and we sang (of course) all of the verses. I slipped in at the back door halfway through the last one. Whew!

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: do you think the dean would notice if I didn't hand in final grades?

confession

I hesitate to admit this - but perhaps it will help others who need support...

ever since Indianapolis lost its 80s station, I have been bereft... until November, when the Christmas music season began. I love Christmas music - all of it. Be it "O Holy Night" or "I Want a Hippopotamus For Christmas" it doesn't matter, I love it. The closer we get to Christmas, the more likely I am to hear Springsteen warble "Santa Claus is Coming' to Town" five times a day and the happier I am.

Now, I love Bing singing "White Christmas" as much as the next shopper, and yearn to hear Judy's version of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" on the radio again. Yet today I realized a sad truth about my musical enjoyment - and alas for my liberal arts aducation - I want nothing more right now than to hear Mariah Carey. How did this happen? All that I ask from any of the FOUR available stations is thay they play Mariah (or one of her knocks offs) singing the oldie classics... I hide my head in shame.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: forty and counting

Yes, Joe, I did tell a plagarist that F meant zero and she filed a formal complaint that her F should mean 59...
I'll keep you posted.

a moment of culture

Despite living in Central Indiana for - er, too long - I've never visited the Eiteljorg Museum. In the interests of keeping my mood positive (tends to mean that I use a slightly more reasonable grading policy) I took the morning off to tour the Lewis & Clark exhibit.

The Eiteljorg is an art museum, so rather than seeing artifacts of the expedition, they have a terrific display of paintings done by a contemporary artist who spent several months driving, hiking and boating their path, and then painting what he saw. Thus some paintings were of woods, valleys and rivers, while others were of the St. Louis Arch, modern day bridges, etc. It was really neat, and just the right length - took me about forty minutes to walk through, reading all of the cards. Eiteljorg specializes in Native American art, so they had lots of information on both sides of the story. They also included lots of quotations from the expedition journals, early 19th century observations and the artists comments. I should have gone sooner, and am excited to visit when the next exhibit goes up.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: There are sixty waiting for me. (sigh)

Food of Choice

Dear Readers,

A query for all of you, however many that may be this week. If on a road trip, seeking lunch, what would be your ideal restaurant choice? Distance is not an object - all choices will be available, there's no problem with lines or making turns againist multiple lanes of traffic.

I am quite fond of Rallys, and noticed today that they have a sign up announcing that they are the official burger (presumably that means burger-makers) of the Indy Colts. The sign does not claim that the players or trainers or refs actually eat Rallyburgers or Big Bufords, but I tend to think too much about such things anyway.

Yours in a Starbucks-driven caffeine haze,
lemming

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: I love teaching - it's the grading that becomes a grind

language

I've been buried under grading while trying to rest my elbow and hand. This means a lot of time in a splint that makes it hard to type or do anything else, but at least can be hidden under a sweater.

Though most of the time Dave Barry's writing is simply designed to make readers chuckle, every now and then he'll write something or make a point that reminds you he really does have a degree in English and a Pulitzer Prize. One of his introductions notes that as a "trained humor writer" he spends some of his time thinking about which words are funnier than other words. I'm not sure that "weasel" is as funny as he thinks it is, but concede that it is funnier than "hamster".

Today's sermon primarily examined John the Baptist and his place in Matthew's gospel. John being the kind of man he was, a certain amount of violent imagery was included. I noticed that most of the time we the congregation simply listened, but that every time the word "smite" or "smiting" came up, we all laughed, every time. I'd never thought of "smite" as funny word before.

One of my current favorite students (sssh!) is a sixty-something pastor. I'm not exactly sure why he's in my class, as he's never spoken a word, and I don't think he has an e-mail account. I'm partial to him not simply because his essays are clear and thoughtful (and have none of the extraneous prose and parenthesis that are so often found in my own work) but because his use of langauge is so different from the others in the class. Much of his vocabulary clearly comes from his time spent with the Bible (yes, he has used the word "smite") and some may also be explained by generational difference, but his homework is great reading.

Speaking of which (I hope!) the chapter is in the mail to #2, #3 and #4.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: since my last post? (laughs) Quite a lot.

I see dead people

Actually, the funny thing is that I don't really have a clear picture of what the people I live with so intimately really looked like. Sometimes I know that they were tall or old or "stronger than they look" but rarely does my generally over-active imagination try to come up with a visual portrait. I do have maps to suggest neighbors and my own suspicions about their emotions, but I'm usually pretty detached from my subjects as people.

I say "usually" because lately that hasn't been true. The sheer and stark reality of these big pieces of paper on my wall representing real people, people who lived, laughed, loved and died, only to be forgotten until I metaphorically dug them up and started writing about them, really hit me hard this week. The chapter is in really great shape right now, and I've sent it off to #2, #3 and #4. In all honesty, I'm suddenly more worried about what my subjects would say than what my readers will comment.

Family resemblence is something we hear about all the time, particularly during holiday celebrations - you look just like your sister, you and your mother both love hot mustard, etc. I have blue eyes, a recessive genetic trait, so it's safe to assume that most of my ancestors either had blue eyes or were married to other folks with blue eyes. Do I look anything like my great-great-great-great-great grandmothers? (I know the name of one of my great great great grandmothers, but that's as far back as I can go.) If I could time travel back to 1066, to pick a date at random, would I recognize my ancestors right away?

Words Written: one thousand, five hundred and ninety seven
Lessons Graded: fourteen

forgotten and remembered

It's surprisingly warm today for December, even by Indiana Standards. Greg's weather link said 62 degrees last time I checked. Driving rain accompanied the warm weather, along with a fierce wind - except when driving the northern chunk of I-65, I usually forget that the flatness of Indiana is actually prairie. Not today!

Today is the anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor. A few years ago, a Japanese student dropped by my office on this day. He pretended to have a question about the class, but really wanted to discuss what I thought of the attack, sixty years later, and of the Japanese people. He was surprised to find no mention of the anniversary in the paper or on the news that morning.

WW II was a huge turning point for my grandfather, aka the Pickle Monster. Thanks to the navy, he saw the world, and it changed his life (hence mine, too) for the better. I explained this to the Japanese student, who grinned, the first time I'd seen this all semester. "Mine, too - well, my great-grandfather."

Words Written: eight hundred and sixty three
Lessons Graded: twenty-two

Christmas Time is here, by golly

CatholicPackerFan has set up his tree for the year. I'm partial to blue spruce Christmas trees, but they seem to run $80-$100, at which point I begin to understand the urge to invest in a fake tree. The lights and various glowing displays are starting to go up in my neighborhood. I'm a big fan of lights to line the house, and maybe a small creche (pretend I put an accent on the "e") but the massive glowing sculptures seem to dominate. One house has a glowing bicycle, complete with moving rider. Sam has taken to growling at the flourescent snowmen.

My aunt the English teacher not only approved of my chapter's commas, but said the words every writer longs to hear: I couldn't put it down!

Words Written: that's next
Lessons Graded: thirty-six

so this is Christmas?

Remember this summer when you couldn't so much as walk into a gas station without stumbling over a massive pile of Bill Clinton memoirs?

There's not a single copy to be had at my local bookstore.

Words Written: nine hundred and three
Lessons Graded: nineteen

poets and the gridiron

I hesitate to blog about poetry for much the same reason that hesitate to blog about sports: I don't know a great deal about either, and know that I have readers who know lots about both. I know enough to enjoy them, though I'd have to give poetry the edge over hockey.

A month or so ago, Mme Q challenged her readers to post a poem, any poem, preferably one we knew well. This was very thought provoking for me, as it led me to realize that while I've memorized lots of lines from poems, there are very few that I can recite in their entirety - and for me, at least, poetry just HAS to be read out loud.

Probably every teenaged girl of a certain intellectual bent goes through a Sylva Plath phase; certainly I did. A few years ago someone wrote a piece for the New Yorker which pointed this out and claimed that her poetry loses most of its power if read after the age of thirty or so. I confess that I don't pull out my complete Sylvia Plath as often as I do my T.S. Eliot, but I still find her lines and verses very, well, powerful in their images.

"I made a fire; being tired
Of the white fists of old
Letters and their death rattle
When I came too close to the wastebasket.
What did they know that I didn't?"

Morning Edition played an interview with Frieda Hughes, Plath's daughter, this morning. A complete edition of the Ariel poems is being issued, including twelve poems that Ted Hughes edited out when they were first published. Hughes Interview Hughes seems to have wonderful sense of peace about having a mother whom the world associates with angst and suicide.

Oh, and CFP -- I think IU should pick a football coach and keep him (are there are female football coaches) around for twenty years. If more effort were put into attracting fans through making the experience fun, more fans would attend, but as all efforts are now concentrated on bringing as much money as possible from the out-of-town spectators...

Words Written: four hundred and six, plus a lot of commas fixed
Lessons Graded: thirty-one

hmmm...

What do you suppose Charles Lindbergh thought about during his Atlantic crossing? I mean, apart from the obvious "wow!" and "gee, I hope I get home in one piece" and "this is history in the making" he had hours and hours alone in the plane to just think about, well, stuff.

Words Written: two hundred and twenty six
Lessons Graded: twenty-six (tidy, no?)

Happiness is a warm puppy

Sam is back.

I can't tell you how wonderful it is to write those words. He stayed at the kennel an extra day to get a thorough grooming, so now his coat is soft and even smells good. It's been wet, so Sam hasn't had a chance to go outside and roll in teh leaves to ruin this effect - though part lab, Sam cannot stand the rain.

Thanks to having spent five days playing with other dogs, Sam is very tired - too tired even to supervise my writing and suggest that I take a break. He's fast asleep under the table, his nose buried in his tail. It's amazing to me how much company and companionship can come from someone who doesn't speak, except to defend me from the neighbors.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: seven

back to base camp

Hi everyone! (waves) My Thanksgiving was delicious and I had a fantastic time with my family. Nothing worth blogging about, really, except to be really thankful that I can say that and mean it when it is not true for so many others. Oddly enough, the younger generation (10-15 years old) have decided that I am "way cool" something I was not when I was 10-15 years old. They all wanted to sit next to me and talk about their lives. Wow.

I passed around a copy of my latest chapter to various relatives, partly for any advice they might have (my commas always need help) and partly to show them that I really have been doing something with my life, other than memorizing information about presidential assassins. The fifteen year old actually read half of it (wow!) and posed good questions about research and drawing hypothetical conclusions.

My advisor's comments (may he and his good will endure forever) include the words "clear" and "thorough." He even went so far as to use the word "interesting" which delights me no end.

Now to the grindstone - must grade papers and do a few more revisions. For benefit of any readers (it seems I have twenty of you!) not familiar with the diss process I should explain that in addition to my advisor (whose goodness and graciousness shall reach eternally) I have readers #2, #3 and #4. I will probably end up with a #5, and have my eye on someone, but that's down the pike. #2 likes me a lot. #3 and #4 are nice people, but know me less well and must be impressed. My hope is to have them impressed by Christmas.

"Go softly on!"

Words Written: too busy dancing
Lessons Graded: sixteen

are we there yet?

Terrific - the first snow of the year is scheduled to fall just as a record number of Americans head to the roads and the air for the holidays. I don't care if St. Christopher is mythical and scorned by Englightenment thinkers - today is a day for a 24 foot giant to keep us all safe. I know that lemmings are best known for jumping off cliffs en masse, but since that's also mythical, perhaps the two will work together in everyone's favor.

After seven hours of grading, I'm stiff, but not in pain. With any luck, this means that beloved Doc's first remedy is working.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: let's see, twenty, forty, sixty -- er, let's not go there

Good news and Bad news

Well, the hand news is good and bad. It is good that I do not have carpal tunnel. It is bad trhat I have some sort of nerve damage, possibly requiring the services of a specialist and definitely requiring that I spend less time at the keyboard. (My beloved Doc realizes that these are both complications for me.) I hope to rest the hand over the holidays, though this means that I will be unable to defend my title as "Adult with the Lowest Score" in the annual bowling tourny.

More good/bad news: a student contacted me with a policy question. I replied, "gee, um, I don't know, but I think it's covered in the student handbook." The good news is that said question is answered very explicitly. Student mentioned this when he contacted the appropriate administrator. Bad news: the administrator is furious that I would give a student advice on a non-academic topic and complained to my chair that my actions were "out of line." I am utterly serious when I say that this will probably come up when I ask for teaching recs.

In all of this talk about the NBA, why isn't anyone talking about the two South Carolina football teams (Clemson and, er, another one) that also had a big riot this weekend? (Source: beloved Doc.)

My advisor (may his good health and spirits continue) sez my chapter is "much improved" and "good."

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: zero - but am about to stay up VERY late...

hint taken

I'm booked in to see the doctor (love my doctor) tomorrow afternoon.

Thanks again to all. I haven't been pain free for days and expect the worst.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: twelve (yes, I know, bad idea)

things that are cold

One of the advantages to living in central Indiana is that we get winters, but they're generally pretty mild. Snow and ice hit, usually right around Christmas, but then things warm up (usually) and it all melts. Living here also means that winter comes later and spring comes earlier. It's now cold enough for sweaters, and I'll wear gloves when I walk Sam in the mornings, but I haven't yet needed a winter jacket.

On the one hand, this is terrific. On the other hand, I'm trying to put myself into the minds of people who by now were snowed in and all but frozen, gathered around the fireplace, and that's tricky to do with my window open.

My hands are acting up again - does anyone else have this problem? My right hand is bitterly cold (probably poor circulation) and my left hand is fine.

Words Written: one more big sheet
Lessons Graded: four

Very nice

I mailed some packages this morning. The lady at the P.O. asked if I needed anything else.
"Yes, please, some stamps. Could I have "and before I'd said a word she handed over two sheets of Lewis & Clark. "I saved the L&C stamps for you - they're the last ones we have, and I know you like them."

Aw! Thank you, U.S. Postal Service!

OK, yes, I obsess about my stamp choices. Before L&C it was the Ogden Nash stamps. I'm tired of birds and flags. Yes, I do also buy the breast cancer stamps.

Words Written: two big sheets of paper
Lessons Graded: thirty

writing

Each of my chapters starts life on little scraps of paper. Eventually the really big concepts make it onto big pieces of paper and get posted on the wall above my desk. Sometimes the little scraps get tacked up somewhere, other times they are torn into lots of little pieces. While theraputic, it's also risky, as I tend to knock over my wastebasket quite often. When I have enough big pieces of paper, I start to write.

The hardest part of this is the initial transfer onto big pieces of paper. I try to find clever ways to distract myself - I'll watch a movie, for example - but it's always nerve wracking. I know that I will rely on these sheets of paper and stare at them for hours on end, and I'll always woried that I will get a critical date wrong. I also need to leave enough room for the little pieces of paper yet to emerge from the dark corners of my brain. Did I mention that I have really lousy handwriting? (It's improved due to the need to use blackboards and leave legible comments, but that's not saying much.)

Since the advisor (may his good health and spirits remain constant, particularly when he is writing his comments on my chapter) won't be getting back to me any time soon, this is a good time to do the big pieces for the next chapter. I've done one, and started a second. Gulp! Thank goodness for Simon Schama's "History of Britain" miniseries.

Words Written: working on the big pieces of paper
Lessons Graded: twenty-eight

Gertrude the Great

Today is the feast day of Gertrude the Great. No, she's not one I'd ever heard of until this moment (she's patron of the West Indies, so not someone I've needed to call upon by name just yet.)

Gertrude was born in Saxony in the 1350s, and placed in a convent at the age of five. She never again left the convent. (The world is a very different place than it was 700 years ago...)

At the age of twenty-six, Christ appeared to her in a vision and told her to stop studying so hard. On the one hand, this admonition could be taken as "you are a woman so you don't need to study" but I prefer to take it as "slow down and be still!" Pretty good advice in the 1370s or 2004.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: twelve

P.S. Thanks for all of the kind replies to my Saturday post.

the beat goes on...

I've blogged before about my computer's obsession with Liza Minnelli tunes. In the past month I've experimented with her (yes, my computer has a gender) preferences by adding lots of new artists and songs to see what happened to the "random" selections. I didn't notice much change.

Drawing upon my experience as a liberal arts major, I then decided to further investigate Minnelli's musical career. I found another half dozen songs which are either very interesting performance-wise or excellent choices for singing under my breath while writing. The computer was delighted, and now at least I listen to a wider variety of Liza M tunes. Yet Liza now has competition! The Finn Brothers, quiet figures on itunes for many months, have suddenly emerged as second only to Liza in frequency of randomly selected play. I've no idea what this connection might suggest (did the Pet Shop Boys ever produce a Crowded House album?) but I'm very amused.

The advisor (may he live forever) got my chapter in today's mail. (crosses fingers) I'm tackling some minor changes while I wait.

Words Written: three hundred and six
Lessons Graded: nineteen

oh come on!

The dust jacket. The student copied the text of the dust jacket and submitted it as a book review.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: too depressing - are they all like this? am I this awful?

the morass of the mall

It is difficult enough to pick out and try on a pair of blue jeans, but even more difficult when "Frosty the Snowman" is playing in the mall, "I'll Be Home For Christmas" is playing inside the store and the sales clerk is whistling "Jingle Bells." As an act of musical rebellion, I whistled "We Gather Together To Ask the Lord's Blessing" the only Thanksgiving song I know.

Lots of people complain (and blog) about the early arrival of Christmas promotions, yet every year it happens. I conclude that it happens because it is an effective sales technique. I wonder what would happen if a new technique was attempted. It was a mistake to mention this to the clerk who rang up my purchase.

Speaking of which, I again understand that if you are selling an impulse purchase product from one of the little booths, you need to pester folks into being impulsive. If I have already told you "no" twice and am walking away from you, chasing after me is probably not an effective sales tactic and does not suggest positive things about your morals or your values. It is even less effective if you use a foreign accent in accosting me, and then reassume a Kentucky drawl when chatting with the person in the booth next to you.

I understand the desire to purchase calendars with pictures of Yorkies or ferrets. In this pattern, swimsuit models and Star Trek ships also make sense. I suppose I have to lump Paris Hilton calendars in with this category, though I wish I didn't. I was not prepared for the "Ronnie Reagan pin-ups" calendar next to Ms Hilton. Reagan with Gorbachev, sure, or taking the oath of office - well, OK, maybe it's just me who would prefer that kind of Reagan calendar.

A gold star to the Santa on duty for giving out candy canes to the seniors doing laps around the mall when his handlers weren't looking.

Chapter should be in the hands of my advisor (may his good health continue) any minute now.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: eighteen

Martha Washington

In 1793, war broke out between France and England. Thomas Jefferson, then the Sec. of State, urged President Washington to enter the conflict on the side of France. Alexander Hamilton, Sec. of the Teasury, disagreed. Martha Washington was asked what she thought of the situation. She replied that as Hamilton had seen combat and Jefferson had not, she wasn't surprised.

A nod of my head and a thank-you to thsoe who serve and to those at home who love them.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: fifteen

a brief rant

Not one but three book reviews in a row cribbed from Amazon.

How stupid do they think I am? The one I caught this morning has already e-mailed me to announce that he wrote the Amazon review, so it's not plagarism. Obviously he doesn't realize that such things can be checked.

Words Written:
Lessons Graded: twelve, not counting the three

up on the roof

One neighbor is on top of his roof. Another is on the roof of his garage. A third is on the roof of her camper.

I am staying down here, on the ground floor.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: twenty-one

N is for...

(yawn) So nice to spend my writing time taking a nap.

I haven't touched my e-mail account for 36 hours, which must be some sort of record for me.

Too much fun, too much relaxation - I could get used to this. Pass the hot cocoa.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: three

it's in the mail!

Only a week behind schedule, the chapter wends now toward the desk of my advisor (may he live forever) and further comment. I did some really painful cuts this morning - ideas that i really liked, but had little to do with the material at hand - and naturally was struck by inspiration about twenty minutes before the mailman's arrival. I think I pounded out 500 words in that time. I'm starting to memorize page numbers in my references, which is always a good sign.

Yes, Joe, I am taking very good care of the 117 year old book. I tend to drop books, but this one is treated with more TLC than a full coffee cup near my keyboard.

There's nothing like knowing a repair technician will be crawling around the baseboard this afternoon to get me feeling enthusiastic about running the vacuum cleaner. Do excuse me.

Words Written: more than I'd expected
Lessons Graded: two

awed in the pew

A truly amazing sermon this morning on the Beautitudes, which included the words "Peacemakers do not demonize." Christ calls us to make peace, to love and live in harmony. If Christians are busy pinning labels on each other and vilifying opinions which differ from their own, we are not "leading a life worthy of our calling."

Wow. That may be the best prayer I've yet heard for the next four years, of not for the rest of our lives. Amen.

Words Written: a bushel and a peck - chapter in Monday's mail
Lessons Graded: ten

I fought the beltway...

and the beltway won. I-465 4, Lemming 0.

You would think that on my fourth trip to the same location in two months, I would be able to keep east/west and north/south straight. I repeat, it's useless to tell me that "all I need is Meredian Street" if I haven't a clue where it is.

I wish that Indy had an AM radio program that tells passers-by the history of various names. "Northeastern Ave" isn't hard to figure out, but probably not everyopne knows that "Fort Harrison" is named after President Benjamin Harrison. Then there are names like "Lick Creek." I'm reasonably sure that it was named after a salt lick, but curious to know how the name survived into 2004.

Speaking of President Harrison, I now have on my desk a book that was published in 1887, the year before he was nominated. This book is one hundred and seventeen years old - and it's on my desk! The library let me take it home! The pages are lovely and thick, and the font is downright beautiful.

Words Written: thirty (cleaning up footnotes)
Lessons Graded: twelve

go softly on

Possibly the best cure for the post-election blues: the phone line mysteriously gives out. Five minutes after I posted yesterday, the phone line quit. This meant no Internet and no chatting with fellow Kenyonites in pride and sadness. Turning off the TV and radio (apart from ATC last night) did even more to improve my mood. I still don't understand how a majority of Americans could see gay marriage as a bigger concern than the war in Iraq, but I don't think it's something I am going to understand.

So I read and wrote and tried to think through revisions. The family next door wondered aloud about the birth of the Electoral College and deemed it "cool" that I knew all about it. This did even more to improve my mood. I'm not often described as "cool" for any reason, let alone my ability to blither on about Alexander Hamilton.

Today I will pilgrimage to the library. There I will pay homage to generations of librarians, as the articles I need to copy were published in 1897 and 1899. It's kind of cool that these journals are still in the stacks. For old time's sake, I might even have a cup of the swill that the library cafeteria pretends is coffee.

Words Written: five hundred and three
Lessons Graded: zero

eating with a spoon

The sun came up this morning. I brewed an adequate cup of coffee. The comfy sweater turned up under a pile of books (a really big pile of books) and I know what I need to write about today so that I can mail the chapter in tomorrow.

I'm trying to look for the positive. I conclude that a Republican House, Senate, President and Judiciary will mean that there are no excuses. Things will either improve or burn themselves out. A lot of people will suffer in the process. I'll pray that we escape another 9/11.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: fifteen

vote early, vote often

I voted this morning, and feel a whole lot better. I can't remember the last time I voted in a polling station with pen and paper - sometime in the early 1990s, I think. The poll people were very happy to have a paper trail, but I missed the "something out of a science fiction movie" button pushing. The lines were short, but steady. Turn-out is the best in memory.

The most interesting race around here, in my biased opinion, is the one for school board. The "People Who Walk Their Dogs in the Rain" focus group held wildly diverse opinions on this topic. I tend to vote for anyone who thinks the arts need more funding, but there's support here for the football candidate, too. All of us liked the smaller class size candidate, and a few thought that this candidate was the best-looking. The sleeper issue , brought up at the "meet the candidates forum" but not covered in the paper or in their fliers, was Creationism. At least one of the candidates wants evolution removed and Genesis brought back in. (Nothing was said about dinosaurs.)

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: zero

Red Sox won, Redskins lost...

I can't decide if I should purchase Ben & Jerry's for tomorrow night (assumes I watch the results coming in) or a bottle of really good wine (assumes that I spend the evening with Jon Stewart.)

Election Night 1992: the dining hall served brocoli at supper. Most of my table went back for thirds. Went back to my room, blocked out and drafted a paper on Paradise Lost. Spent two hours at a fantastic "watch the results party" which included a keg of Corona in the bathroom. Raised a toast to the results, and had the first four pages of the paper written before bed at 1:30 AM.

Election Night 2000: I proctered an exam. Most of my students assured me that they had voted. One or two had even voted absentee for Florida. At 4 AM I reconciled myself to the fact that "staying awake until the bitter end" was probably not a possibility.

Here's wishing all of us a good night's sleep tomorrow.

Words Written: six hundred and ninety-eight (ouch!)
Lessons Graded: three (the complaints have started)

history teachers and elephants

"Dear Mizz Lemming, You probably don't remember me, but..."

Like hell I don't. Your essays were such fun to read, and took ages to comment upon because your work was so good. I wrote you letters of rec for grad school and when I looked at the copy of your transcript, I almost fainted. You should have been writing letters for me. As matter of fact, you did, and your words were quoted the last time I won a teaching award.

"You were right. The first year of grad school was horrible, but it did get better this year and I even started to have fun."

Yes indeed - this applies to many things in life, but grad school in particular. Struggle on, but look for the fun. I thought you knew this already? Wow.

"Anyway, I felt that I should pray for you, but didn't know what you needed. How are your hands doing?"

(lemming gets teary-eyed)

Words Written: nine hundred and thirty-eight (ouch! ouch!)
Lessons Graded: five

Geography

Dick Cheney is campaigning in Hawaii today or tomorrow. Well, it's not the Dakotas, as I suggested, but he's probably a lot more excited about visiting the islands than visiting the Midwest. I'm sure it's more interesting than the "undisclosed location." Do you suppose he'll vote in Wyoming, or will he vote absentee?

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: twenty

pigs in the treetops

I had the oddest dream last night - something about the Red Sox winning the World Series and seeing a sign that said "Bill Buckner: All Is Forgiven!"

This is the first time that I've really felt confident that I might be employable. Hurrah Red Sox!

It may come as a surprise to people who read this blog, but I do enjoy watching sporting events. That is to say, I enjoy them in the same way that I enjoy opera. I don't expect to fully understand all of the nuances to what's going on (even if the opera is being performed in English) but I really enjoy the spectacle and the emotion.

Any number of boyfriends, friends and the occasional student have tried to make me enjoy the numbers and strategy behind the field. I enjoy listening to people explain such things, but seem incapable of retaining most of it. It is doubtless a failing on my part ("unsocial savage" again) that I'm happy to watch a game without understanding any of this - indeed, am probably happier when I don't know that a particular player has a particular record in a particular situation. (Keeping a scorecard at a baseball game is a lot of fun, though I always have to be reminded of how it's done.) As of late last night, "1918" and "eight victories in a row" were all that I really needed, anyway.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: ten

distracted, bothered and bewildered

One or possibly both of the candidates was campaigning yesterday in Minnesota. I'm quite delighted. Now I want one or both of them to go to the Dakotas.

I'm really tired, and have been for a few days now. A colony of ants has invaded, and after a weekend of futile attempts with Raid, I visited Ye Aulde Garden and Home Repairs Massive Box store for something stronger. A trustworthy neighbor suggested a product. It took not one but five employees to find this product. Naturally in the process I was sent all over the store. Usually I can laugh when this happens, but I'm tired enough that I almost burst into tears.

As you can see, and getting back to the main point of having this blog, I've gotten a lot of writing done, though there's still a lot of ground I need to cover between now and the end of the month. It's still exciting and fun, but I'm really worn out. The advisor (may he live forever) has been sending me e-mails which bear a striking resemblence to the ones I ocasionally send the students I really enjoy and want to push . No, I didn't get this stylistic angle from him! They boil down to "you're doing well, I don;t want to discourage you, but here are fifteen points you should integrate into your work and by the way, your last e-mail misused the comma on six occasions."

As individuals, I love all (almost all) of my students, but as a collective whole, I'm really not wild about them at the moment. They need and deserve careful comments on every aspect of their work, and I know from my course evaluations that this is something I do really well. Yet to do it well takes the sort of concentration I really should and want to give the chapter.

Words Written: eight hundred and twelve
Lessons Graded: forty

small, small, small, small world

I just got off the phone with the credit card company. This may be the single most entertaining conversation I ever have with a creditor. While covering important financial matters, the man on the other end of the phone mentioned in passing that he wanted to move to Northern Maine. "Oh," said I, "Aroostock County? Yes, it's beautiful up there."

Pause. "Ma'am, if I may say so, you live in Indiana, so how...." The unspoken question hovered in the air, with more than a hint of a smile.

My first-ever random road trip was to Aroostock County, Maine. "Road trip" is a bit of a misnomer as, among the four of us teenagers, only one could drive. A friend's uncle ran a very nice restaurant up there and had guest rooms to spare. Whe you're 16 or 17, going to northern Maine in a January snowstorm isn't at all daunting, and the food served at the restaurant really was delicious.

The credit card representative and I spent about one minute on the reason for my call (more than sufficient) and ten minutes on cooking lobster, the Red Sox and whether or not bacon belongs in clam chowder. Why can't all business calls be like this?

Words Written: one thousand, six hundred and eighty-six
Lessons Graded: zero

time's winged chariot

No post yesterday, as I was writing up to the last minute in preparation for a meeting with my advisor (may he live forever.) I'm really enjoying this chapter, and the pieces are starting to come together. I'm hoping to get the revised chapter back to him by Halloween.

The mantra about his health really is something that runs in my head. I lost my first advisor to an unexpected and early death several years back, and if my present advisor (may he live forever) dies, I cannot replace him, and the PhD process will end. While scribbling down as much as I can of what he says, I do notice that I'm scanning his face for any signs of ill health or misery. He seems fine, by the way, so I'm not terribly worried.

Yesterday was an ideal day to be on a college or university campus - the kind of fall foliage and perfectly crisp weather upon which admissions officers and alumni affairs rely. My undergraduate alma mater is impossibly beautiful at all seasons. Walking through the big university, clutching a perfect cup of coffee, with my healthy advisor's praise and suggestions running through my head, leaves circling on a light wind, was almost as good as being back there.

Words Written: oops - I forgot to count. Honestly!
Lessons Graded: zero

so tree is a leaf

Driving North on 31, there's a billboard with a large picture of a young man in a military uniform. As I'm usually looking at the road when I drive, I haven't seen all of the text, but the message is something along the lines of "John Smith, now a Soldier in the House of the Lord." The bottom has his dates of birth and death, 1980-2000.

The other day it hit me. I remember 1980. Not just little bits and pieces, which is what I remember of the Ford Administration, but quite a bit. I also remember 2001.

During the last three presidential campaigns, candidates used the stories of individuals to illustrate their larger points. That hasn't happened as much this time around, for which I am truly grateful, but it does remove the "these are individuals" element.

Greg at 465 has a great piece about not making it into the army, funnily enough in the year 2000.

Words Written: four hundred and twelve
Lessons Graded: fifteen

what's in a name?

"The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin was written by Aaron Spelling."

This may be one of my all time favorite (i.e. moments to roll my eyes and laugh) statements on a book review, though 'This biography of Thomas Jefferson is a great novel" may be a close second.

Met little girl today named Peyton. I came within inches of making a comment about Mia Farrow before realizing that she was probably named after the football player, rather than the novel. This is why I am, to borrow a phrase, an "unsocial savage" and really need to get out more. 1

1 John Quincy Adams

Words Written: twenty
Lessons Graded: twenty (tidy, no?)

conspiracy?

The Red Sox won last night. The Astros won last night.

That's Boston and Houston, folks.

That's Massachusetts and Texas.

This does not bode well.

Matt at Basket full of Puppies makes it all seem rational.

I'm really dreading Election Day. In 2000, I was once of the diehards who stayed up until 4 AM, hoping against hope that everything would either be settled or thrown into the House of Representatives. Four years later, I'm in dissertation crisis mode, with lessons to grade. I can't do this again, and not just because I'm out of dry-erase pens. COME ON, FELLAS! Get it together!

Words Written: zero (groan)
Lessons Graded: forty (yes, since last night)

homage

Jon Stewart and the Daily Show have kept me sane during this election cycle. Having now read the transcript of his chat with the folks on CNN's Crossfire, I like him even more. If you've not seen it, please do take a look.

Jon Stewart

By the way, the Red Sox just won.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: forty

one's every anything so

Just once, I'd like a news story to begin with the words, "The Presidential candidates were campaigning today in Alaska..." I know Florida is a swing state. I remember what happened in 2000. Nonetheless, I'd like to hear that they're visiting a state, any state, that isn't Florida. Do you suppose Alaska and Hawaii get any campaign visits? Even Indiana gets a few quick stops, if only for fund-raising purposes.

Mme Q claims to lurk on this site, waiting for me to join the crew of folks posting poetry. This is tricky, as I'm a very literal person, and I'm keenly aware that as such I don't bring the "right mind-set" to the table. It's far more likely that I'll have a few lines run through my head than an entire piece, except perhaps for the William Carlos Williams piece about plums. I went on a big T.S. Eliot kick a month or so ago, but more for the power and skill of the language than in a deeper search for meaning. I promise, Q, I'll think about it.

By the way, thanks to all who responded to my musing on the correct spelling of Rhinoceros. Who says blogging can't be educational?

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: ten

our rain is here to stay

During the walks with Sam, I chat briefly with a lot of neighbors. The latest topic is, no surpise, the rainy weather. I'm in the minority, in that I rather like October rain. It's still reasonably warm outside and a sweatshirt is needed. November rain, which is so much colder and more dreary, wets though winter coats and mittens. The grass still has enough life in it that the rain is turning lawns a bit greener. All in all, the weather has actually made me quite cheerful.

Nearly all of the neighbors plan to vote (or so they say) for Kerry but are split down the middle on all of the other races. Somewhere there's a researcher who should be looking into the special interests of "People Who Walk Their Dogs In The Rain and Support Kerry."

Words Written: six hundred and two
Lessons Graded: four

spelling

Rhinoceros. Why not Rhinocerous? or Rihoncerous?

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: forty

back to work, Hurrah!

With my first good night's sleep in a week, I started looking over the comments of my advisor (may his health and well-being prosper) and making a few notes about what I need to do next. Now I understand why chapters are sixty pages long. The ideas I have in my head and which I think are beautifully put need further explication, lots and lots.

Must also track down my copy of Manual of Style and review semi-colons. (smile)

I have tried, very hard, to follow this election with some degree of interest, if not enthusiasm. When Bush mentioned the Dred Scott decision at the last debate, I was very impressed. Laura often gives him biographies to read, so I thought perhaps he'd been reading about James Buchanen or Abraham Lincoln. Thanks to the Internet, I now know that mentioning Dred Scott in that context is acually a signal that Bush won't appoint any pro-choice justices to the Supreme Court.

We all knew that. We all knew that four years ago. Abortion and stem-cell research are emotionally difficult topics already, must they be further complicated by speaking in code and references to slavery? Say what you mean and mean what you say.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: four - the backlog grows ever larger

"You have abused the semi-colon..."

IT CAME!! My advisor (may he live forever) used words like "delight" and "engaging." Alas, he also used phrases such as "needs to be more explicit" and "you must work at the writing of simple, straight-forward sentences." (laughter) Um, yes, this would be very true.

More explicit - I can do that. Clean up my citations - I should do that. Get this back to him by the end of the month - well, I hope so!

All hail Wilfred of York.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: twelve (and lots more to go)

a watched mailbox...

No, I didn't run out and purchase vodka at midnight, though after listening to the news all night long, I wished that I had. (joke!)

It's impossible to concentrate. This is worse than the glorious if unfocused buzz of starting to date someone - at least then you have something to be happy about.

Tomorrow (October 12) is the Feast Day of Wilfred of York. Though probably something of a difficult personality while alive, his first posthumous miracle was to cure the arthritis of the woman who was washing his corpse. Perhaps this is a sign that my chapter (mailed on Monday of last week) will arrive tomorrow, and I will wear out my hands tomorrow night making brilliant and inciteful ammendments.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: zero - and I have a MAJOR backlog

41 hours until the mail arrives

Not that I'm counting. An e-mail from the advisor (may his good health continue unabated) confirmed my address today, but let nothing slip about the exact nature of his comments. I'm not usually one for vodka shots, but this seems a good time for an exception. Alas, not a drop of vodka around, and cooking sherry just doesn't have the same appeal.

I'm trying to think of this as my students' revenge for the handful of times that I've been really late in getting assignments handed back, but it's not working.

I didn't expect to enjoy Friday's debate, but I did - a lot. I didn't think Kerry could be concise, but he was. Bush is generally so unflappable that seeing him angry and/or frustrated was a really interesting change. The best part came about 65 minutes in, when the two of them started to feel tired. The rehearsed platitudes didn't roll out of their mouths as tidily, and this may be the one time in the whole campaign when we get to see the two of them as they really are.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: zero

still waiting

The pup tent is getting a bit chilly. Perhaps I should upgrade, and build a log cabin out of the sticks falling from the trees in record number, thanks to the dry weather.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: zero

bring back the Latin Mass

The postman disappointed me again today. Now I await the Saturday postal lady.

Many years ago, I had a truly awful office job. It was skilled work which I did well, and my boss was very generous about buying lunch (or dinner and occasionally breakfast) for the department when we worked overtime, but it was still an awful experience, primarily because of the stress. Generally I was able to cope by listening to NPR non-stop, and attending Mass during my lunch hour. The priests gave wonderful homilies about love, patience and humility, and followed a version of the liturgy that I've never used anywhere else: lots of old prayers said slowly. None of them ever asked why I didn't receive communion or made me (a catholic but not a Catholic) feel in any way unwelcome. They accepted all of us in attendence as we were, whether four or forty, and I'm sure that this experience helped keep me out of the corner liquor store on the way back to the office. Clearly I am an old-fashioned sort of worshipped, in that I prefer my "new things" to be, well, old.

A mailing came today from an area church, inviting me to attend a series of seminars they will be holding on faith and families. For these classes, participants will watch a television show and then learn about the theme posed. For example, "Everybody Loves Raymond" will be followed by "Maintaining a Healthy Family," and "The X-Files" will facilitate "Meeting the Challenges of Blended Family Relationships."

I wonder how you say "The X-Files" in Latin?

Please note: I'm not opposed to this program, nor am I slighting people and families who belong to this church. It's just that , as a stodgy sort of gal, the X-Files isn't the first thing that comes to my mind when I think about Christian inspiration.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: twelve

Hey! Mr. Postal Carrier Person!

GET BACK HERE!!!

Lot of large envelopes in the mail today, none of them from my advisor (may he live forever.) Grrrrr. At this rate, I might actually manage to complete A Moveable Feast before I go back to work.

I've read about a hundred pages; I'm sorry, Joe, but I still don't like Hemingway. This book has made me long for French food, preferably shellfish and pastries, but he's still far too caught up in the overall meaninglessness and pointlessness of living to really attract my attention. The in-joke portraits of his buddies are fun, I grant you.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: twenty-eight

the waiting begins

My advisor (may he live forever) has put the chapter in the mail.

If you're looking for me, I'll be in a pup tent by the mailbox, with the neighbors' dog for company.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: fifteen

windsor knots and theatrical events

A friend noted that for the first debate, Kerry wore his tie in a full Windsor knot, but Bush opted for the half-Windsor. I predict full Windsors on Cheney (yellow tie) and Edwards (red tie) tonight. Whatever else you might read, no one, not even Fox or the NY Times, will have the courage to make such a prediction.

I know why I'm excited about tonight's debate; it's because I really can't stand Cheney.

Now, before I get flamed by anyone who happens to drop by, I do not mean this in the "I am a pinhead (GWB's word) who is unpatriotic and should just put a towel over my head and move to Iraq" sense, nor in the "my God, if I went up in flames there's not a living soul who'd pee on me to put the flame out" sense. (Line cribbed from The Lion in Winter.)

My dislike for Cheney can be likened to my dislike for pork chops, the novels of Thomas Hardy, the color orange, and the hymn "On Eagle's Wings." I know that many other people very much enjoy some or all of these items, find them powerful, moving and meaningful, and more happiness to them. All five set my teeth on edge. Cheney has been very helpful to Bush in helping him formulate vision and policy, and whatever I may think of the result, I do not deny or dispute his importance and value to this administration; nonetheless, as a person, I can't stand him.

I know next to nothing about Edwards, except what I've read in People. I'm hopeful that he'll catch Cheney off-guard and create some TV worth watching, if for no reason other than to inform my later viewing of the Daily Show.

Words Written: zero - this is not good
Lessons Graded: a bushel and a peck

"the cat will mew, and dog will have his day."

The neighbors' dog has a new pattern; he vaults the fence, chases the latest distraction, then walks to my yard, and waits quietly for my appearance with a leash. Though frustrating and annoying to have this little drama repeat on a near daily basis, it is touching that the dog views me as an ally. I've tried ringing the bell; the neighbors either ignore me (possible) or are rarely at home (more than likely.)

Sam isn't as young as he used to be, and I notice more and more white fur amid the black. Though more sedate in his old age, he can still surprise me; this morning Sam vaulted over an outdoor table in a sudden sprint toward the vicious groundhog on the other side of the yard. A two foot tall end table isn't quite as impressive as a six foot fence, but pretty good for an eight year old.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: forty-three

Mt. St. Helens

The Pickle Monster loved St. Helens. He thought that the mountain and Spirit lake were beautiful. I sometimes wonder what he would have thought of the last erruption and the destruction that followed.

Here we go again. Applause to Swankette for a fantastic post on this topic.

Words Written: zero
Lessons Graded: thirty down, twenty to go

a hodgepodge

Not to be confused with a hotchpotch

The debate: well, I was wrong about the ties. I was delighted to see the two candidates taking notes on each other's statements: maybe this means, holy cow, that they actually listened to what the other was saying. As Editor B commented yesterday, I too am disappointed by the limitations of the debate format, and the exclusion of third party candidates. If nothing else, they would liven things up a tad, as happens during Prime Minister's Questions.

Sam and I took our walk early this morning (6:45 AM.) Lots of kids were waiting for the bus, including two Middle- Schoolers and their dad, who were throwing around a football. One of them was singing "It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas."

A tip about plagarism: if I turn you in, it's because you've earned it. You haven't just played fast and loose with someone else's words, you have copied them, lots of them, and claimed them as your own. Threatening that you will appeal to the dean may make you feel better about having cheated, but the dean can follow the same paper (internet) trail that I followed. If you are so concerned about my impression of you, how about admitting that you didn't read the book and appologizing?

I have purchased my "it's not a banned book but I'll let you read it anyway" reading, but am still staring at the cover. Joe at hipdeep has graciously allowed me to read A Moveable Feast by Hemingway; the cover sounds good, but... hey, I still have another, um, 33 hours until banned book week ends, right?


Words Written: zero (still no comments!!)
Lessons Graded: A lot - you wouldn't believe me even if I told you.