Getting grades finished this semester was more challenging than it has been in years. There were three causes. Every weekend in Samsonville is quite difficult. That's been the case for two years, so it's not really "new." Second, the university (not sure who, but "administration" who controls calendar) appears to take pleasure in adding stress to faculty. This has been going on for a couple of years as well, but each semester there is a new wrinkle. This year, it was the absurd deadline of graduation weekend. Finally, it's typical to have a few needy, procrastinating students, but this semester there seemed to be more. I finished at 10 pm last night. That's the closest I've come to missing the deadline since the year I caught five students cheating. That must be almost 20 years ago.

Last night our former neighbor, the man who sold us our house, died from ALS. Another giant in this community is gone. On Friday I didn't take the time away from grading to note that Donna died seven years ago. I could have dashed off a quick Facebook post with a picture, but I didn't. I have stopped remembering her anniversaries and milestones on social media because I don't want condolences, thoughts or prayers. I also don't want to be compelled by such comments to respond, because the sentiment I feel would not be understood by more than a few. "It's complicated" sums it up but that's so trite. So I've decided it is better to write nothing.