Sunday Report

Spent a good portion of this morning revising and submitting work. Out into the world, it goes~
quicker than an eye blink. Every once in a while I'm hit by an attack of linked coughs-- it's scary because I can't seem to get a hold of my breath. Hope this ends soon. Thankfully this cold and cough and fever didn't manifest last week when I was doing so many readings, but no doubt being around small children (residency-- I think it's the hand railings. I do hold onto them while I'm climbing up and down stairs, because I'm afraid of missing a step. I don't want to fall like woody woodpecker-- nose straight onto the floor) contributed to my rusty voice. I sound like a mix of Minne Mouse and Brenda Vaccaro.

Plan on going for another walk today, and will resume grading papers in a bit.


I like these quiet weekends.

Sunday, Sunday

Cool morning, actually quite brisk. Fall in the the air. Sun is shining and clear blue skies.
Spent the day in the Bristol Hills yesterday. We had the Just Poets Retreat at Writers & Books
Gell Center. 30 poets attended the retreat. Our day began with a lecture on Black Mountain Poets presented by John Roche. Then we two workshop sessions, morning and afternoon, with two workshops offered in each session. In each session we offered a "critique" workshop and a creative also known as " writing aerobics" workshop. Our workshop leaders: Claudia Stanek, Ron Bailey, Karla Linn Merrifield and Dwain Wilder were fantastic and I could hear a lot of laughter and quiet moments thoroughout the day. Donna Marbach, Dwain Wilder and I organized the day.Everyone helped, from car pooling to clean up. The closing reading was magical. The lodge room was filled with afternoon light and everyone read something created during the day or something brought along. Everyone's face bathed in that mountain light looked so peaceful. We had a day of sanctuary. A true opportunity to have conversations that touched upon our everyday lives and our creative lives. It was a very special day.

Leading up to this day was a week of frustrations, which began with my office computer acting wonkie for a whole week, which OIT didn't ticket my work order as a priority(I guess being faculty and unable to do any work isn't desperate enough), which was fixed a week later in under 8 minutes. OIT had upgraded a program and in the transfer some of the program language loaded improperly on some computers on campus. (I wasn't the only one). Things that should take a minute, either didn't work, or would work by hitting my desk's top. I know it's like kicking the car tire. I couldn't send emails, or reply, but I could read. It goes on and on. Needless to say, it was challenging, but I muddled my way through it. My home computer wasn't shut out of the system. So I did make some forward motion, but it felt like I was dragging a block of cement with me.

Then, my birthday. Thank you everyone who sent me notes. I've had a hard time with this turn of year. I know in my heart that I'm not of an age where I should waste any time, and should only do things that I want to do. This is the reason why I didn't get my blood in a bubble over the computer disaster. It was so interesting to realize that my note to OIT was processed as non-urgent. I wonder what language I need to use to convey professional desperation? If any of you have key words that would trigger priority without sounding like a raving lunatic, please advise.

On my birthday, I found out, quite by accident, that one of the clubs I advise, their budget was MIA and the SGA was going to freeze our operations. (YIKES!) I know the budget was completed, but the editor who did it has graduated and is on her way to France to teach for a year. (I know, why am I not going with her? It sounds wonderful, doesn't it ?) So, on Friday, the current editor and I rewrote the budget from scratch and filled out necessary paperwork. We were successful! Handed in the packet. I'm hoping we'll be back on track by this upcoming Thursday when we have to present our budget to a special case committee. Say a prayer for us.

In the past two weeks everything seems to be a lesson.

I was very thoughtful on Thursday. It was the anniversary of my Mom's death. It's been 12 years. I found coins all week, on the ground where I walked, in my shoes, on window sills. A few days before she passed, she promised me she would leave me coins to let me know she was around. From the day she passed, she has left me coins nearly every day. I save them in a jar, and then twice a year I roll the coins. It's enough to take my family out to a fancy dinner, or to the movies and a not so fancy dinner. Nickel, Penny,Dime, Quarter. That's the chant.

I know my Mom was with me all week.


Now to make plans for the upcoming week. I hope to do a bit of writing today and take a walk.


Oh yes, last note, please look at the most recent issue of The Hobble Creek Review. It went live on my birthday. Thank you, Justin for this gift.

Justin announced HCR's annual Pushcart nominees and I think he made wonderful choices.
Congrats to all, and especially Mary Biddinger (because I've actually met her and read her blog) and to Collin Kelley who I only know through blogville, but maybe someday I'll meet.

Good words to all!

Sunday, Sunday

The wedding in the park was lovely. I really like the bride and groom, and they were so happy. It was intimate and relaxed and perfect. They gave spruce tree saplings as their wedding favor. We're to plant them in honor of loved ones who have passed. I thought that was a wonderful gesture and spruces are beautiful trees. The drive was closer to 2 hours away. Letchworth's waterfall and gorges are just stunning. Glacier made, yet not "carved" by the glacier. The land like the Grand Canyon is pushing upward, which is fascinating. I loved watching the water tumbling and mist rising. Many hawks soaring in wide loops over the gorges. I would like to go back in the Fall when the leaves are turning. There's a bed and breakfast inn there. Something to think about.

Spent some time weeding today. Several rain showers passed through. Caught the bunny twice Now nicknamed Bundini. He looks so miffed when I put him back in the pen. He'd rather hang with the five hens.