Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

We set off from the campground for our third day of hiking, and me being me, I immediately began second-guessing the direction we were heading. All along the way, markers with a blue square at the top told us we were on trail. For the first half mile beyond camp, I saw no markers. Then we reached a Y. My gut told me we needed to go left, but the Shadow of Doubt raised its head, and with one eyebrow cocked said, "Are you sure?" I looked at Angel Baby and suggested we go right. He just shrugged. We headed right. Still no trail markers. After another half mile, I stopped and suggested we return to camp and ask. Again, Angel Baby just shrugged. We backtracked, running into a young lady we'd met the day before. Sanna, like in Susanna, with the 'short a' sound. From Norway. I explained my fear of going off trail, and she nodded, pulling out her map and opening it up for us to look at. My gut had been right: we needed to go left at the Y. We thanked her then set off ag

Our first hiking day in Iceland ended on a good note though my body was aching like I'd never experienced before, and I was certain I would wake up to not being able to move the next morning. Thankfully, and I chalk this up to doing so much walking and hill climbing the month before leaving for Iceland, I woke up feeling surprisingly good. A bit of soreness through the shoulders, but other than that, the old body said, "Let's get on the path!" I knew it was too early for Angel Baby to be up, so I putzed around, taking pictures of the landscape around the campsite and having breakfast. Finally, Angel Baby emerged from his hut and we set off. Not long after we began, a drizzle started. We pulled out our rain pants and raincoats and put them on, then wrapped our packs with waterproof covers. Though the day was cool, I felt snug and warm in my layers. For the next few hours we walked along in silence. Angel Baby walked ten or so yards ahead of me, sometimes further sinc

So, Iceland. Let's start with this: Yeah, I know. Every time I look back through all my photos of Iceland, this one takes my breath away. That green! Seriously beautiful, yes? And everyone who has thumbed through my photos always stops on this one to really drink in what they're looking at. I really had no idea what the landscape would be like before we got to Iceland, so to be able to see this, walk across the black sands, feel the chill . . . it all was incredible. Such beauty in our world, and I will forever be grateful to have had the chance to experience it up close and personal with one of my most favorite people, Angel Baby. I'm not sure Angel Baby knew exactly what he was getting into in agreeing to travel with me. I'm the type who just rolls with the flow. I don't book hotels beforehand. I get to where I'm going and hope to find a place, which is exactly what we did. When we arrived in Reykjavik I told Angel Baby we needed to find a hostel. He d

So, it's December. Four months since I last posted. Four months of good, bad, and ugly. First, the good. Iceland. All I can say is it was fantastic. Angel Baby is the best travel buddy. We truly had a wonderful time. After the end of the semester, I'll write a longer post about our adventure. For now, just know that he and I couldn't have asked for a better trip. Second, the bad. My husband is still insisting he and I are fine. We're not. It's been nearly three years since I looked at him and said, "I'm moving out." Still, he behaves as if all is just peachy. I finally blocked him on my phone. Now, I am close to blocking him through email. I've told him over and over that we are not "we" any longer. I'm not sure what it is going to take for him to accept that I do not want to reconcile and that I will never move back in with him. And lastly, the ugly. On November 8, my sister called me to tell me my dad was ill. Cancer. I went

And the countdown has started! T minus 4 days until we leave for Iceland! Angel Baby and I packed our gear this afternoon to see just how much weight each of us will be carrying. We divided the heavier items so neither one of us is stuck carrying all of those things. In the end, I was pleasantly surprised by how much room I still have in my pack and how light it is at this point. Granted, I still have to add the bladder full of water (which will likely be the heaviest item in my pack) and the food, but after walking the hill the last two weeks with odds and ends items inside my pack just to give me some weight, I know I'll be absolutely fine. I got this! What makes me most happy right now is how excited Angel Baby is about this adventure. He has mentioned several times over the last two days how stoked he is. I suggested over dinner this evening that things might go badly, and his response was, "Yeah, but that's okay, too. We'll get out of it what we put into it. N

Last weekend, Lovely Beautiful Daughter and I went to Louisville for the Forecastle music festival. What a time! Back in 2012, when I did my first cross-country bike ride, LBD and the boys put together a care package and sent it so it would arrive on the same day that I rode into Haswell, CO. Inside the care package was LBD's mp3 player with a playlist of her favorite music. The Killers were a part of that playlist, and from that day on, I've always thought it'd be wonderful to see The Killers live. Friday night last week, LBD and I stood smushed together, surrounded by other fans, and watched The Killers put on a wonderful show. I'm pretty sure I had a smile on my face during the entire hour and a half show. At one point, LBD took my arm and with tears in her eyes told me thank you for making her dream of seeing The Killers live come true. While I love so many of The Killers' songs, my favorite is a Brandon Flowers song he wrote and sang for the album Flaming

This summer, I did something as a teacher that I've never done in my entire career. I gave a student an A because I got tired of the constant emails bashing me and how I grade incorrectly. Yeah, I'm not proud of how I caved and gave the student exactly what the student wanted, but I decided to do what I did because this student isn't worth my time. The first email I received from this student expressed disappointment in the grade given for the first draft of the first paper. I replied, explaining what I was seeing and why I gave the grade I did (which was exactly what I said directly on the paper as well as in a long end comment the student can access when the paper is returned). Then the replies started coming in: I didn't grade correctly; everything I asked for was in the paper; all of the ideas were there, just "invisible like" (whatever the hell that means). It's one thing to get an email from a student; it's quite another to get an email, follow

Yesterday I rode my first 50 miler for the summer. I'd planned on doing at least 30, but once I got out and realized how good I was feeling, I just kept going. I ended up having to deal with a short detour, about three miles or so, because county workers were tarring and chipping a road I wanted to take. I was forced to hang a left, going further west than I'd planned. I thought all was just fine when I reached a road that went north, but I soon ran into a real gravel road. Sweetness and I don't do gravel. We tried that once. Things didn't go well. But the only other choice was to backtrack, adding on more miles. I assured Sweetness this gravel road would be fine. We'd go slow, which we did. About a mile in, we found a paved road we could turn onto. From there, we were back on track. The rest of the ride went without a hitch. Well, unless you factor in the guy driving the convertible at the four-way stop, who didn't see me (that's what I'm going with)

The last few weeks I've been chillin'. Mostly just hanging around the house with Ado, enjoying being back in the space the kids and I called home when I decided to move out of my husband's place. The space with the living room windows overlooking the back yard and deck. The space where my three kids and I took a year to figure out where each of us was headed. Lovely Beautiful Daughter decided to go out on her own, and for the last nearly four weeks she's been in Taiwan on a teacher training exchange through the university. Funny Delightful Son moved to live on campus at the university he transferred to after finishing his community college courses. I miss them both, and when I moved back into this space, I could hear echos of them throughout the rooms. The first few days were kind of tough with them not being here, too. But Angel Baby is here with me. He has the entire upstairs all to himself. Three nice-sized rooms, each serving a different purpose. One room is his c

It used to be students would use "my grandma died" as the excuse for not getting work submitted. Poor grandma -- she sometimes died two or three times during a semester. Now, the more typical reason for not attending class and not getting work in is anxiety and panic attacks. And usually the student doesn't inform me of this until after getting the final grade, which for some is most likely what's inducing the anxiety and panic attacks. Over the last six or seven years, the number of students claiming to suffer from depression, anxiety, and panic attacks has increased exponentially. I am truly conflicted over this. I know the conditions are real and some people truly suffer because of anxiety and panic attacks. The idea, too, that so many young people are claiming to experience both suggests something very wrong is happening in our world (hello social media?). This semester, I've had several students tell me at the end of the semester they suffer from both, and

The grading is done. At least for the students who have been paying attention, which is the majority. Those who have not been paying attention will find out sooner or later, most likely after grades are submitted and they see they failed the class. They still have four days to get late assignments in. But experience tells me they won't take advantage of the grace period. They'll have to repeat the course. During these last few days of grading and seeing some students shoot themselves in the foot, I've been muttering about these students and their bad behavior. Angel Baby will hear me and say, "Mom, let them fail." I know he's right. Still, I have a tough time watching this happen. I've already heard from one student who is upset over my not accepting his final papers sent to me via email rather than submitted into the LMS. He stopped attending class quite a while back, five or six weeks ago. Because he wasn't in class, he didn't get the informa

During the walk-through of the unit Angel Baby and I will be moving back into, I had no doubt whatsoever that I am making the right decision. I am connected to that space. I even told my landlord I plan to stay for years, which he is perfectly fine with. I'm happy. He's happy. The last few days, I've been working to bring the unit back to being happy, too. My first job was to clean the basement to rid it of the dog crap smell. I went ahead and did the vinegar wash followed by the Pinesol wash, thinking that would at least disinfect the floor. I burned some sage afterward, to cleanse the air. But I could still smell the dog crap. I walked around the basement, which isn't big by any means, and saw a couple pieces of cardboard leaning against the back wall. When I moved them aside, I found the culprit: a pile of dog doo that had been swept into the corner then covered by the cardboard. Once I removed all of it, the smell diminished significantly. Today, it seemed a

The neighbors are out of the unit, and me being nosy me, I went in after dark last night to see how the place looks. I was worried after peeking through the windows Monday that they might leave the mess I could see. Thankfully, they cleaned . . . some. But . . . but, the basement reeks of dog crap. I mean, it really reeks. A couple of times during the last six, seven months, I noticed the neighbors would be gone for long stretches of time, once close to two full days. I knew the dogs were in the house because I could hear them bark every now and then. At the time, I worried the dogs, being left inside so long, might be making a mess of the house. I couldn't figure out how they could be left for so long without being let out to do their business. I learned the answer to my question the other night, when nosy me peeked through the basement window. Dog crap littered the floor. Even now, I'm still stunned by this. I simply don't understand some people. So, I'm try

Sunday evening, I watched episode 3 of this season's GOT. I'd not watched any of GOT until November 2018, but after the first season, I was hooked. I watched each season until I reached the end in late December. That's a lot of GOT to take in over a short time. I loved every single second of it. One of my favorite parts out of all the episodes to then was the Battle of the Bastards, particularly the scene when Jon Snow's army charges forward on the horses, and the camera pans, going slowly from the horses' heads back and down to their legs. Just a beautiful image of the horses running. The artistry with which some scenes are made is truly amazing. I felt the same about several moments in Sunday's episodes. But it really wasn't any particular scene in this episode that touched me so much. Rather, it was the music. The music that started when Sansa and Tyrion were hiding from the undead running through the crypts. That music, aptly titled "The Night K

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!

My project is currently at 26,000 words. Almost halfway to my goal of 60,000 words. Actually, I'm shooting for 60,000-70,000 words by the time I'm done. That'll give me a good starting place to go in and revise, maybe add to what already exists. Every time I see the wordcount roll past another thousand words written, I get stoked. Even finding out I have to pay a couple thousand in federal taxes can't diminish the happiness I feel seeing the writing coming along. I went in and did my taxes last night, figuring I better get on it, and by the time I was done, I was just shaking my head over how much I have to pay on top of what was taken out of my yearly salary. I couldn't figure out why I owed so much since I had gone to HR and revised my withholding, so I went out to work today to see if I could make another change. I'd like to avoid having to write a check to the IRS every year. After talking with our payroll person, we figured out what will work. Hopefully.

Happy birthday to me! It's official -- I can order off the senior menu at Denny's. That makes me completely happy. And I must be looking older these days. The checkout clerk at Jewel asks me every time I go in if I'm a senior, wanting to give me the 10% off the entire basket. Only their senior is 62. So far, I've said no, but the next time she asks me, I'm going to say yes. If she insists on asking and thinks I actually look 62, then I'm going to just go with it. I'd love to get 10% off my grocery bill. I thought about riding my bike to work, but the wind chill talked me out of it. I don't mind 11 degrees, but a -5 windchill just doesn't feel all that great when riding the bike. So instead, I walked to Uptown. I started out, got about a block and a half away then remembered I 'd not saved the PPT I'd made for the Honors class today. I turned around, trudged back to the apartment and saved it. Which then reminded me I'd forgotten my hand

March! So good to see you. You are my favorite month, you know that, right? And you didn't disappoint yesterday with the mostly sunny day, warm enough to get a lovely long walk in, to roll down the Jeep window while I drove to the store. Warm enough I only had to wear a long sleeved shirt. No sweater. No sweatshirt. You are a month of change, handing the reins that'd belonged to Winter over to Spring (though I hear Winter is having a bit of a fit right now, not wanting to give up the reins, threatening to bring cold and snow again tonight and tomorrow). I don't envy you your job, having to convince Winter it's time to rest. She is quite headstrong and full of energy. And she really does have three more weeks to spread her fun, so you can't be too hard on her just yet. Between you and me, I like your style of sprinkling in a warm day here, a warm day there, just to give Winter notice. Well done, March, well done. For today, I chose to stay inside and work. Catchi

Come on, February, you're killing me. Just be done already! I feel like that kid waiting for the last day of the school year. Or Christmas day. Or the day for going on that much-awaited trip to Disney World. I'm just really excited about daylight happening around 6 am and staying until 6 pm. Winter is on the downhill, which is fine by me. All the snow is gone, though we're supposed to get some this weekend. All the ice has melted, thank goodness. I ended up falling once while walking Ado, mostly because I'd forgotten about one particular ice patch, wasn't paying attention, and the new snow cover made it even more slippery than it was when not covered in snow. Ado kind of looked at me with the expression of hoomin, wut ar yu dooin ? Having a hold of his leash actually helped me go down with a bit of control, dare I say even with some grace? With the ease in temperatures, I've been able to walk to Uptown to catch the bus to work. Then I walk home from Uptown

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

-10 the high for today. Right this very second it is -20 with a real feel of -48. I can't remember the last time it was this cold. Because of how dangerous it is to be out in these temps, the college closed for today. It's a relief to know I don't have to carefully prepare myself to be out in this weather. I can't imagine standing at the bus stop, waiting for the bus. I'm not even sure the transit system is running today. I'll have to check. Just checked and yes, the buses are running. Much like the furnace for this little apartment. It's been running nonstop since around nine last evening. I am not looking forward to the next gas bill. And since around 2 am, the wooden structure that is this apartment has been popping and thumping. I just want to stay in bed and pull the quilt up over my head. But I can't. Ado needs me. So I bundled up to take him out this morning. Three layers. Still, the cold seeped through before we'd even gone a half block.

I'm trying to work, really work, but the action at the bird feeders is incredibly distracting. The biting cold and snow have the birds eating constantly, which is fine by me. I love just sitting here watching them. But I'm not getting any work completed. Perhaps I should wait until this evening, after dark, to start work. The third pic I took last Sunday. I walked over to the hill to snap a few photos. There were people sledding. I stood and listened to them laugh and whoop as they whooshed down the hill under the blood moon.

An arctic blast has moved in. The -23 degrees wind chill makes my face hurt as soon as I step outside. Even Ado, who typically loves being out in the cold, did his business quickly this morning then turned around an made a dash for home. I fear for animals and the homeless when the temps dip like this. I hope shelter is available, enough to give adequate warmth. This afternoon snow fell, adding a layer of slippery on top of the sheet of ice that is my driveway right now. I searched high and low for my landlord's number, but somewhere in the move to the smaller apartment his number went missing. Today, while Angel Baby and I were messing around with the old typewriter I just bought a new ribbon for, trying to figure out how to make an exclamation point since there is no 1 key (shift, hit the 8 key, back up, hit the period key), my landlord pulled in. I slipped my feet into my boots and went out to say hello and ask for his number. Almost immediately he apologized for the condition

 

I put a post-it note on my monitor to remind me to listen to the Purdue men's basketball game at 1 today. At 3:30, I looked up from the book I was reading to see I'd totally missed the game. This is like the fourth game I've wanted to listen to but missed because I simply forget. Hence the post-it. Lot of good it did. I must not be all that interested in actually listening to the games or I'd figure out a way to make sure I remember. I almost missed taking Ado to the vet yesterday, for his spa day, because I'd totally forgotten about his appointment. I didn't have to get up for work, so at 6 am I rolled over and went back to sleep for over an hour. When I finally dragged myself into the living room, I noticed my phone's calendar had kicked in, trying to remind me of Ado's bath and nail clipping appointment. Maybe my forgetfulness was because of the first week back in the classroom fatigue. Maybe it was because of having a gnarly headache four out of th

Snow. Finally. Ice and snow at the creek So far about eight inches, and it's still falling. Supposed to fall through the day, making today a wonderful day to stay inside and bake orange-cranberry scones (done), listen to good alternative music (doing), sketch out some new ideas for poems (doing, well, in between baking, listening to music, and writing this blog post). And watching the bright red cardinal at the bird feeder. I took Angel Baby to work this morning since the snow was already about five inches deep. Doesn't seem like a lot, but when walking in it the going can be tough. Maybe not for a youngun' like him, but I also wanted to try out the four-wheel drive on the Jeep. It works. It works really, really well. The roads had been plowed somewhat, but they were still a mess. The Jeep made the snow seem like child's play. No spinning tires. No fish-tailing. Just like a usual driving day. During break I organized my dresser, closet and laundry room. I also

The "have-to-go-to" meetings are out of the way. Really, they weren't so bad. I don't mind sitting through a meeting these days. Not too long ago, I would have been singing a different tune. I remember a retreat my dean required all of us to go to, and I wasn't happy at all about having to go. It was a Friday, a day I used to mark on the calendar for grading since we have no classes on Fridays, and the retreat was scheduled at a time during the semester when I had a ton of papers to read/respond to. Yeah, I was in a foul mood when I arrived at the retreat. The person brought in to run the retreat said hello when I walked in and told me to take a name badge. She then said I didn't have to put my name on it. Instead, I could put how I was feeling. So I put "Annoyed." When my dean saw this, she gave me a look of half amusement half disappointment. My foul mood didn't improve as the morning wore on. If anything, I became even more resentful for hav

Yesterday I took my first bike ride of the year. Not a long ride by any means -- just out to work to grab a book I needed and to fill out the tuition waiver for Angel Baby (he's decided to return to school!) -- but it was a lovely ride. Earlier in the morning, between reading and fixing some coffee, I watched the frost melt off the Jeep windows, using the slow disappearance of the tiny ice crystals as the gauge for when I could get the bike out and go for a ride. Temps near 50 and sunny with barely any wind to speak of -- yep, I wasn't going to let the day slip by without some kind of ride, even if it was just to Uptown for reading time at the coffeehouse. Today, another beautiful day, with sun and warmth. Another opportunity to get out and ride somewhere. When I arrived home from my ride yesterday, I found a package in my mailbox. I figured it was for Lovely Beautiful Daughter since I haven't ordered anything that needed to be delivered. I'm really trying to cut do