Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

Seven months have passed since I last posted. I've been vacillating about continuing the blog, mostly leaning the direction of no. But the last few weeks . . . something has been stirring, reawakening. It's still a bit groggy and might take some time to come fully awake. That's okay. Like with many areas of my life these days, I'm going to let it take all the time it needs. Some changes will be made, starting with the title. I started this blog when I was 45 years old. I'm now 59. My children are young adults and doing well. I live in a little green with yellow accents Craftsman style house in a village in the middle of corn and soybean fields. Two Australian shepherds keep me company. I spend my days thinking about the end of my teaching career and the beginning of my retirement.  Which is why the title Standing at the Trailhead of Winter seems fitting for the blog.

Well, I had the thought of closing the blog. I've not been posting recently, and every time I thought about writing a post, that sinking feeling I get when I really don't want to do something filled the pit of my stomach. I've learned to listen to that feeling. I've learned it's telling me I'm not ready yet. More time needs to pass. More healing has to happen . . . whatever is hurting needs more space, more time. Over the last few months, the hurting has been the incredibly huge, empty space left when I said goodbye to Ado. Even now, the sadness creeps up on me nearly every day. Murphy, too, is still adjusting to being without his best buddy. I try to keep Murphy busy, which keeps me busy, so we both have some respite from missing Ado. But I know I'm not what Murphy really needs.  I realized recently just how much most of my days are filled with silence. I haven't had the stereo on, listening to my albums or my CDs like I used to. I only listened to Chri...

Yesterday I was in need of something sweet and chocolaty, so I went to my favorite vegan YouTuber and found a recipe for brownies . Since I didn't have all the ingredients on hand, I hopped into the Jeep and drove to the closest store, which is 16 miles away. The lengths I go to just for brownies.  But in the end, they were so worth the time and effort. And now, I am indulging for my mid-morning snack.  Today is gloomy and gray, with rain, sleet, and wind. A good day to stay inside. Even the boys didn't want to venture out just a bit ago for a potty break. Both stood at the door, peering out, then turned and went back to the couch to settle in for a nap. I kinda want to join them, but I'm supposed to be available until 12:30 for virtual office hours. So far, I've not heard from any students, which is usually the case. I'd like to think this is because everything I put into the LMS they access for online learning is so incredibly clear they don't have any questio...

January came in a hot mess and is going out a hot mess. Thankfully, in between we had some really lovely, sunny days. Just last week the sun made an appearance a couple of days, giving me and the boys a chance to get out and enjoy the warmth several times each day. Friday evening, though, straight through yesterday, rain fell. Overnight it turned to snow. The snow is still falling now, which is fine by me. If I had my druthers, I'd rather have snow to take walks in than rain. Snow is just more fun. But it's time to say so long to January. It's been a good month. Lovely Beautiful Daughter turned 29 and Angel Baby turned 22. We were going to celebrate both birthdays today, but out of an abundance of caution we decided to wait for a day when the roads aren't slick. That might not be until April or May, but we've become used to waiting to see each other. The last year has taught us to be patient. I've been working on my book. Not making a ton of progress because I...

Ever since I can remember, I've wanted to be able to call myself a writer. An author. When I was seven and eight years old, I wrote little stories about elves and fairies that lived near a stream. I wrote sappy poems. This continued until seventh grade when I departed from the usual and wrote a very weird story that involved a circus and death via high wire and trapeze. I gave it to my English teacher to read, hoping she'd give me some constructive feedback. That didn't happen. There was feedback, but it was simply "This isn't even plausible." Nothing more. I was disappointed, to say the least. And I stopped writing. Then, when I was in college, I started writing again. I found writing classes to take, both poetry and short fiction. I had one professor write me a note about how he truly enjoyed my poetry. I had another professor tell me one of my short stories was first-rate. They both gave me encouragement and hope that maybe one day I'd see my dream of b...

I've missed this space so much! So, where to start? My landlord asked the neighbors to leave. When he stopped by to tell me they were moving out, I asked if I could move back into that unit. The smile on his face was all I needed as an answer. He told me I made his day. He then clued me in about the conversation he had with them, telling them he wasn't going to renew their lease, them being angry over this, the mom of the young man calling my landlord to plead with him to let them stay, him not budging, them saying fine, they'd be out by the end of the month even though their lease isn't up until the end of May. He told them he'd give them back the last month's rent, which I thought was really nice (though if I had to guess, the last month's rent was paid by the mom of the young man, so it will really go back to her). They've been in the process of moving for the last two weeks, with a moving van showing up this morning to get all the big items. I wi...

Last day of spring break. And it's a beautiful day right now. This morning started off with big, wet snowflakes falling, but presently it's sunny and warm. A great way to end the week off from work. So, I've been thinking a lot about taking a break from the blog. For a few months. I just want to spend as much time as I can working on my project. My writing friend has indicated he thinks I have something pretty good going and I need to finish it, try to publish it. That's what I'm going to do. Removing a couple of things from my plate will help me get further along with the project, and the blog is one of those things I can remove from my plate. Happy St. Patrick's Day, and happy almost spring! Just a few more days until the calendar says it's officially spring. I hope you all are well and happy!

That hopeful song of spring being just around the corner has been playing this week. Tuesday the sun was shining, giving off warmth though the wind was competing with it. I walked to Uptown to catch the bus, getting a mile and a half in before classes. Yesterday, more sun, so another walk to Uptown to catch the bus to work. Such a wonderful way to start the day. This morning, sunny, warming up nicely. Ado and I walked twice before 11 am. Both of us were very happy campers. I realized today I've not blogged much this month. It's already the 22nd and this will be blog post two for February. I've been working on the piece I started quite a while back, focusing on getting at least 1000 words a day. Seeing the wordcount increasing each day is incredibly exciting. Today I spent the afternoon printing out what I have so far . . . having a hard copy, feeling the weight of it in my hands, makes me want to do nothing but sit here and keep working. I'm resisting the urge to go...

I'm becoming that cranky older person. And I'm not going to apologize for it. Example: stopped to get a coffee yesterday before work. Ordered a decaf. I knew the barista was going to say, "Well, it'll be a few minutes because we'll have to do a pour over," which she did. I nodded. Why these places just don't have a pot of decaf ready to go is beyond me, but whatever. So I waited. And waited. Waited some more. Once those who ordered after me had their drinks in hand and left the store, I stepped up to the counter to inquire into my drink. The barista had forgotten. So I waited. Another barista who was working another area behind the counter looked at me and asked if I was waiting on something. I said, "Yes, a decaf." Her response was a bright smile and, "Oh, yeah, that'll be a few mintues since it's a pour over." No shit. I smiled brightly right back at her and said, "It's already been a few minutes." First Young ...

Another day off work. Still negative temps with serious wind chill. I was a bit surprised the college closed for a second day, but I do understand. I see students wearing shorts -- yes, they wear shorts in January. I would say something snarky here, but I'm truly trying to not think or say hurtful things about others. It's a struggle, let me tell you. Yesterday afternoon, once I learned I would be home today, I didn't read any student work like I should have. Instead, I worked on the piece I've been focused on for the last six months. I'm not ready to talk about it or share any of it yet. I simply want to keep making forward progress. That's not to say I don't share it with others. I do. Like with my friend who I meet every Monday for sharing and feedback. He has seen nearly all of it to date. I trust his judgment. He gives it to me straight, which I need. To see how others might react, others who don't know me, I decided to post a few pages on the c...

A new year. 365 days stretching out in front of me. So much promise. I hope I do this year justice. I spent my New Year's eve right here, with the last two episodes of season seven GOT queued up. I indulged in a Big Mac meal, complete with a coke to add some Irish whiskey to, and settled in to enjoy the evening. At midnight, I lit some candles and said hello to January 1, 2019 by meditating for twenty minutes. Ado had already gone to bed hours before, but he got up long enough to come out and check on me. After a minute or so, he decided his bed was really where he wanted to be. 2018 ended on a good note. I accomplished the two big things I wanted to do for the year: change my last name back to my maiden name and complete the poetry chapbook that I'd started during my sabbatical. My name change was granted on December 18. The last poem of the chapbook was finished just before 6 pm yesterday, after a couple of weeks of working to get a draft in place. When I copied the poem ...

Just ten days left of my summer. Ten. Sad face. Tears sliding down my cheeks face. Actually, I'm okay with the summer coming to a close. The two months of working from home were glorious, but it'll be good to get back on campus. The bummer part about going into this fall semester is one of my good friends leaving. He was offered a beautiful deal with a two-year college in Michigan, one he couldn't pass up. It'll definitely be strange without him across the hall from me (though there is whispering of turning his office into a gaming room, complete with mini fridge and microwave). His leaving opened up the opportunity for me to step back into teaching the Honors seminar course. That along with teaching English 102 in hybrid format and coordinating the writing center will be my load. I'm looking forward to all of it, especially the hybrid classes. I've been waiting and waiting for the hybrid classes to get the green light, and they finally did. For the ne...

Since posting about being stuck in a funk, I've cycled over 200 miles, written several thousands of words of new material, and practiced yoga several times. I even made orange-cranberry scones and iced coffee to last me all of last week, so each morning I had a treat after taking Ado on a walk. All of this doing what I love to do has felt so good. I have to wonder why I fall into a funk and not want to do these things. They truly do make me happy. When I pull into the drive after forty sweaty miles, nothing can keep the smile off my face. Especially when I look at the stats on my Garmin and realize I'd kept a 15 mph pace, even given having to go slower while on the trail and making my way through the city streets. The same happiness fills me when I see four or five pages filled up with words, all single-spaced. The satisfaction that comes with completing these things I love feels great. It seems like I should never want to go a day without engaging in one or more of these act...

The smaller apartment works perfectly for me. Each moment I'm here, working or reading or watching something on Netflix, is a moment I feel content. A few years ago I would have never considered myself an apartment kind of person, but for now, it suits me and my needs. My desire to go small, to reduce the amount of stuff in my life, to focus more on experiences rather than having things -- these are all happening.  The simplicity of it all -- less space to have to clean, each piece of furniture serving a purpose instead of just sitting gathering dust and taking up an area -- makes me wonder why anyone would want big. At what point did big become a thing? I know it's always been a thing with the mansions and castles of the rich through the years, but seriously. Big seems overwhelming. Big seems unnecessary. Big seems cold. Give me manageable. Give me purpose. Give me warmth. My carfree life so far is working out. I've not really had any need to go anywhere the days...

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...

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...

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...

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...

Just like that, a month has gotten away from me and the blogging was pushed to the side. I knew it was going to happen sooner or later after returning to work, but an entire month? The upside is we're on the downhill slide to the end of the semester. Just seven weeks to go, and if they keep slipping by like they have to this point, I'll find myself writing my next blog post with just a week left in the semester. Work is work. I've now been teaching for 27 years, 18 of those where I currently spend my days. I've climbed the promotion ladder, reaching the top rung with nothing else to work towards. This is a dangerous spot to be in. I feel like I can just roll along, develop my classes, grade papers, and stay the course, not offering to do much more. I can arguably justify settling into simply teaching and not doing anything more for awhile since I've been involved in several special projects or said yes to doing assignments others didn't want over the last eigh...

The beautiful layer of snow we were graced with yesterday melted off today. I did take a long walk during late afternoon yesterday to enjoy the snow covering the trees and the trail, so I didn't miss out on seeing its beauty. I had the trail to myself. Not another soul was out the entire time I walked. Today, Ado and I took another long walk earlier this afternoon, after the snow was gone, to enjoy the heat of the sun. This time, we weren't alone. Lots of others decided to take advantage of the lovely afternoon warmth. After my walk yesterday, I sat here and bought my ticket to see Hamilton ! And I have my train tickets to get to Chicago then home. Now all I need is a hotel for the night. I simply cannot wait to go. Last year at this time, I couldn't find a ticket for less than $300, and that was for a seat in the very back of the balcony, the view blocked. I do have a balcony ticket, but the view should be fine, and while I had budgeted $200 for my ticket, I was able to ...