Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

My bum has been planted in this darn chair all day. And I wonder why my clothes are getting tighter! But, I'm nearly finished with putting my entire summer online classes in place, and once class begins on Monday, all I'll have to do is read the papers and blog posts once they start coming in. Fingers crossed the classes I've created are easy to navigate and clear about what is expected (who am I trying to kid? There'll be students who'll have issues -- there always is). Good news: one of my haiku was accepted by Haiku Journal . If you go to the journal online, Issue 58, you'll see my name listed with the other authors. Then just scroll down until you find my haiku. This particular haiku is my favorite of the group I created to submit to the contest sponsored at the site where I post my work for critique. This was also the favorite for my writer friend who offered feedback when my haiku went days without a critique on the very site that is designed to offer

I wondered the other day why gas prices have gone up. Today, I read an article examining the hike in prices, specifically throughout the Midwest. Several factors, a few of which involve Russia and Venezuela, are impacting gas prices. While I care about the increase, I'm not affected much since I barely drive anymore. Last week, I drove my car once -- to go out to the farm where I buy eggs. It's about twelve miles to the farm, and my plan for the next time I want eggs is to ride my bike out. Another plan I'm hatching is to be completely carfree by August 1. What's interesting is the dealership where I bought my car has been calling, texting, and sending me letters saying they want my car. It's a 2014 Jeep Patriot Latitude, with 33,000 miles. The Blue Book value if I sell it myself is between $13,700 and $15,800. The dealership has offered me $9300 trade-in, though the Blue Book value for trade-in has it between $10,000 and $11,500.  The dealership has also indicate

Each day this week the heat has closed in around 90 degrees. I have a stack of paperback books on my desk, and the humidity curls back the cover of the top book. I shift it to go underneath the second book so the cover will flatten out. I end up shifting each top book every so often throughout the day. They all end up taking a turn at having their cover curl. I finished reading The Road  by Cormac McCarthy and The Last Coyote  by Michael Connelly this week. The first is quite a fast read, and I'm not sure why I've not read it before now. I've seen the movie, but I just never thought about reading the book until a colleague brought it up recently. I truly enjoyed it -- well, not the subject matter so much, or the ending -- but rather the way McCarthy fashions phrases, offers an objective viewpoint. I found myself rereading paragraphs, sentences, phrases as I was taken by the image, the metaphor, the feel created through the words. The second book is a Harry Bosch crime n

Grades are in, and out of my four classes, only one student is complaining about the course grade. A student who didn't turn most of the assignments in by the due dates. A student who waited until finals week to work on two major papers and the semester-long project. A student who inundated me with emails about how rough her semester has been. When I refused to answer a list of questions she sent last week about concepts that were covered during the semester, she became very upset with me and told me I'm out of touch with the younger generations, I don't listen, and I am the cause of all her stress. I do feel for this student. From what she wrote and the fact that she sent email after email several times during the week, I'm pretty sure she's dealing with mental illness. My hope is she gets help. I sent her series of emails to my boss to clue him into what she said and how she said it. I also encouraged the student to contact my boss to set up a meeting where the

Now is crunch time for finishing grading and submitting final grade reports. I don't mind this time of the semester as I know I have to get grades in by a certain date, which means once I click the Submit button I'll be free. No more papers to read. No more slogging through essays that make me wonder what these students were doing during high school English classes. No more having to break the news to Susie that just because Mom thinks Susie's writing is awesome, this doesn't mean it actually is. The downside here is I'll only be free for about two weeks. Then summer session begins. I'm not looking forward to it, but I've decided since I have to teach I'm going to take the opportunity to try out some new ideas. This will entail taking a bit of a different approach, an approach that gets me excited when I think about the possibilities. It could be really, really fantastic. It could also end up being a crash and burn summer I'll want to forget as soo

Central Illinois went from winter to summer without a spring this year. We had snow right into April, along with chilly temps until late April. Then a switch was thrown and the temps went from 40's to 70's, 80's, and today we're supposed to hit 90. The humidity is ramping up, too. My hair is getting wavier and wavier with each hot, humid day we have. I love this weather. I do like fall, winter, and spring. The changes that come with each are beautiful in and of themselves. But hot and humid I absolutely adore. Which is why I don't turn the air conditioner on. The kids are okay with this, at least for now. I know Funny Delightful Son isn't a fan of the heat, but he's not complained so far. I imagine if the nights stop cooling off like they've been, then he'll let me know my anti-air conditioner position is problematic. Ado suffers from the heat. We do our walks early in the day, before seven am, and late in the day, after seven pm. Since we ca

As Ado and I started off on our late afternoon walk, I thought, I am in charge of my bliss . The longer we walked, the more settled into that idea I became. I felt the same comfort that washed over me last year in mid April, when I walked the grounds of Allerton, listening to the owls calling, and I thought,  I am free.  It is in these moments that I see the path in front of me more clearly. I received a critique for my haiku. A 540-word critique on 54 words of haiku. I had to laugh when I saw that. I figured the person really didn't like my poems if the need to write ten times more for critique seemed necessary. The critique was mixed, which is fine, and some good suggestions were offered. I've decided I'm done with the haiku, though, so I won't be making any further changes. I sent a thank-you note to the person who critiqued, then moved on with my day. A wood thrush, I think. It was really sad to watch it fade away. This afternoon, Ado and I snuggled on the c

So, five days now and no critiques on my haiku. I did receive one comment, basically asking about one or two of the haiku maybe needing a "cutting" word and saying the cricket haiku was the least favorite of the six. I sent the person a thank-you note. Then, I opened my email to find yet another rejection. This one from a literary magazine I sent some poems to back in early November. Now, I'm sitting here wondering why I feel the need to be published. The literary magazines don't pay. Most have a small readership. Yet I keep sending my work in hopes one of them will eventually say yes. Prestige is definitely part of the equation. Being able to put on my vita that I've had work published by recognized literary magazines adds a degree of expertise. In the event I decide to seek employment at another institution, the publishing credits will help me stand out over applicants who don't have publishing credits. And I have entertained the idea of seeking empl

So I'm still waiting for a critique on my haiku. Three days. The contest closes May 31st, so several weeks remain for someone to take pity on me and offer up some feedback. I wonder what will happen if my haiku go the rest of the month without being critiqued. All it says in the rules is the entry must be submitted publicly for the duration of the contest. It doesn't say the submission must receive critiques. Honestly, though, I really don't know why of the 25 different entries, mine is the only one without any critique or comment. The snarky side of me is saying, they're just that good! What could possibly be said about them to make them better than they already are? The paranoid critic side of me is saying, they're so bad no one wants to be the first one to say so.  This has been the back and forth in my head for the last three days, and this exchange has been particularly bad today. I finally copied off the haiku and gave them to a poet friend to read and giv

Instead of grading the last of the papers I have waiting for me, I've been tinkering with some haiku. Writing my own and critiquing that of others. A contest opened up on the site where I submit my work for critique, so I thought, humph, I might as well give it a whirl. During March and April I turned my attention away from the poetry to work on another project, so the contest seemed like an opportunity to churn something out and practice a particular form. I've found many ideas hit me quite hard during my long walks with Ado, so I snapped the leash onto his collar and we set off. During that walk, three ideas for haiku took shape. As soon as I got home, I started working on them. By the time I finished later that evening, I had six haiku I was happy with. I submitted them to the site for critique, which is required for the contest, and went back to my other project. Usually it takes all of a couple hours to get multiple critiques on the work submitted to the site. With the

Lovely Beautiful Daughter took me to my first beer tasting yesterday. For nearly two hours, she and I enjoyed local brew and talked. This was just one moment from this past year that I will treasure for a very, very long time. When we arrived back home, we set to work creating our Cinco de Mayo feast. Steak tacos, fish tacos, and tres leches cake. Guacamole and chips. Mexican beer. I found myself feeling completely stuffed when it was all said and done. As I started cleaning up, Lovely Beautiful Daughter looked out the kitchen window and said, "What? It's dark? There goes hippy horseshoes!" She'd set up the yard game while grilling the steak, but time got away from us as we sat at the table, eating, laughing, and talking about anything and everything. Today I took three nice walks to try and negate all the comida deliciosa I ate yesterday. This whole weekend turned out absolutely perfect, from the weather, to the food, to the company. I want these kinds of days al

I made a decision yesterday about this whole financial mess. If I can, I'm going to get a personal loan to pay it. I just want to be done with it. I need to be in control of the mess rather than it controlling my every waking moment. With the personal loan, yes, it won't be done as I will have a chunk from my income going to pay the loan back, but at least I will know where the situation stands at all times. And really, I've known from day one that I'll be the one having to pay. As the old saying goes, "you can't get blood from a turnip," the turnip being my husband, and since his job situation is still what it was over a year ago, logic dictates the one with the income will be the one who will have to pay. That's me. For over a year, I allowed my husband to "handle" this issue since it really was his doings that put us in the position we're in. I wanted to believe he would take care of it. His way of taking care of it has been to remai

Just two weeks left for the semester. I'm kind of feeling I didn't give this semester the best of me, but the students seem to be okay. I'm not sure I ever really left sabbatical mind to return to teaching mind. I went through the motions of teaching but only enough to fulfill the very basic requirements. My thoughts were constantly on my own writing, and new ideas kept pestering me. I couldn't ignore them. Recently I received three rejections in one week. That was definitely a downer. Especially when I see all the So-and-So's poem will be published in What's-It-Called review every time I log into the site where I post my work for critique. Seems like everyone else is getting published. I can't help but wonder why I'm not. I was really tempted to just call it quits after the third rejection. I wallowed in my misery for a good day or so. Then I decided if I'm really serious about this whole publishing thing, I have to keep trudging on. It's real