I found out my consulting obligation was canceled for tomorrow, and I immediately jumped up, ran outside, and started working! I let Teddy come out with me for a while. I have to have him on a leash, and monitor him closely. He has to be an indoor cat, because his former owner had him declawed shortly before I adopted him. He was five years old, how mean would someone have to be to do that? I'd never have a kitten done either, but doing it to an adult like he was is just plain cruel. The vet who agreed to it needs his or her you know what kicked. It breaks my heart, I wish he could have more freedom. But he was thrilled to be outside, even restricted.

I was thrilled, because the weekend was pretty booked up and I was wondering how I would fit in planting and getting my class ready to go live, along with the consulting and socializing that were on the agenda. Tomorrow evening we are going to a 50th birthday party. It's a sixties theme, complete with costumes required. Bob will be early/mid '60s Beatles, and I am going as late '60s hippy. I will certainly post pictures. I am not sure how many attendees will be hippies, and how many will prefer the mod look of the early '60s; ie, more Hairspray than Hair.

My wig came today, and I was a little apprehensive that it would make me look like a dominatrix or a witch instead of a hippy. The goal is not to be Elvira! So I put it on and snapped a photo, then emailed it to Bob. He responded: "you look as young as you did in college." That was very sweet, if untrue. My salt and pepper ages me, no argument there, and the jet black long wig does make me look younger, although not by 30 years. The effect is definitely hippy, so that's a relief. It's a comfortable look for me, not too far off from my funky taste of my own later teenage and early '20s years in the '70s and '80s. 

I have an extensive button collection, which I used to have displayed on the Gully Brook Press website (there is a collecting-themed virtual museum). Unfortunately, I never fully migrated it when AOL hometown vanished, and the photos are on the Iomega disks that I am trying to recover. Anyway, I have several good slogans and a peace symbol to wear.

Here's the prolific little red rosebush, with four roses today!:

 

Here's the vintage pink rosebush, just about ready to bloom:

My trusty tiller is rarin' to go (actually took this picture when I was done, but whatev):

 

Still have to fence it and mulch, but not a bad day's work:

 

I read this blog post in the TU yesterday and while I second most of the insights on container gardening, as a long-time organic gardener, I couldn't disagree more with the part about plant food. No, no, no! Commercial chemical fertilizer is not the way to go! Get thee one of these:

And one of these:

 

Or alternatively, make friends with someone who has one or more of these:

And say goodbye to the dark side!

I still have some basil seeds to plant. They came free with Triscuits. This was true last year too. I planted them, and the basil was great! So this year I accumulated four packs. I also have to water everything before going out to dinner, so I better get to it! I'd close with TGIF but I always remember what my mother says, don't wish your life away and enjoy every day, not just weekends. As I was raking the dirt in my garden earlier today, I was thinking how much I love not having to wait until the weekend or after my job during the week to work outside. Sure, at times adjuncting, freelancing and consulting have been a scramble and a juggle, but taking that risk, making that life change - it was the best thing I ever did.

Late last night I submitted a query for my latest non-fiction story, and this morning, the editor emailed me that she'd let me know in a month. I was surprised to hear from her so quickly, and glad that it will take a month for a commitment, because I have so many other pressing matters (my summer class goes live on Monday [this almost requires an entire ranting stream of consciousness post all its own]; annual faculty activity report is due soon; need to spend time on analysis for my arts-in-education research; Iomega and S'ville Internet sagas continue). If it was already a sale I wouldn't be able to resist sitting right down and writing it. 

It might even trump gardening. Or maybe not. I'm not sure. Good thing I don't have to decide! Yesterday afternoon I got the garden ready for rototilling. That's a bigger job than it should be, because a more organized person would have cleaned it up in the fall. I almost never do, since the end of the growing season is bittersweet and it seems a chore. In the spring, it is a joy. So I have to take down the fence, yank out the stakes, remove last year's organic leftovers. This always involves pruning the "vintage" rosebush, because some branches are tangled in the fence.

I label it vintage, but I have no idea how old the rosebush is. It was here when we bought the house in 1987. It was big and old then and it is bigger and older now. It could have been here since the house was built (1902) or at least young, but my guess is that it was planted in about 1940. That's when the owner at that time moved the kitchen downstairs to the basement, added the bathroom, and I assume put in the ornamentals. This rosebush is dark pink and beautiful. It blooms in June. I can hardly wait.

There was a burdock growing near the pink rosebush, which I cut down but did not dig out. I removed the stems and put them (and sand and possibly a stray bug) in a plastic bag in the refrigerator. Maybe I will make cardone on Sunday. (Have dinner plans until then.) Several years ago, we put in a small red rosebush near the street. It's a survivor of the road rehab of '09, and as I was relocating the grapevine that annually tries to overtake the front fence, I saw that the little rosebush has three lovely roses right now. Have to get a pic!

I had not cut my fingernails yet, and one broke while I was collecting the old mulch in a much bucket. I always wear gloves (and long sleeves, long pants, a hat and sunglasses) but they were so long it was unavoidable. The break is too short, but luckily, not painful. So I cut the rest down to a more civilized length. The reason I resist, even though I know it is going to happen, is that filing them afterwards so they won't catch on everything takes forever. I just can't stand high maintenance.  

This afternoon I plan to rototill and plant cucumber, string bean and basil seeds. This is perfect weather for heavy outdoor work. And shorter fingernails will be appreciated!

It's a beautiful day - sunny but cool, a little windy. I have a long To Do list, in the hope of being able to work outside this afternoon and/or tomorrow. I want to rototill and get my seeds in. It was far too hot to consider it yesterday or the day before; it was too hot to accomplish much of anything else either.

I got up early (for me), already was working away for a while. I had the window to my office open, and the sound of the leaves rustling in the breeze was peaceful and inspiring. Suddenly the air filled with loud music. The guys who are intermittently painting the house next door must have arrived. Now, I understand that some people work better with music, and that an outdoor project in particular may lend itself to it.

But it ruined my train of thought! I could not focus on anything but Cream, Sunshine of Your Love. It's not a band or song that I dislike, that isn't the problem. I prefer natural sound, and when I am alone (as I am, except for the animals, almost every day in the summer), I only occasionally play a CD and never have the radio or television on. The painters must be listening to a radio station, because now there are annoying voices chattering. That's worse than a song, even one that's an earwig.

Something has prompted Sophie to start barking, either the radio or more likely she can see someone up on a ladder from the living room window. She hates that as much as the sounds bother me. Sam hasn't joined her, although he throws an isolated woof now and then when there is a sudden noise caused by equipment. What was that? A power scraper? I had to close my office window. Bye-bye leaves rustling in the wind. Sophie has quieted, but I can still hear the radio, muted so I can't quite make out the song. Can't decide if that is worse. Sigh.

Added: Is it me or do all "classic" rock songs sound like Sunshine of Your Love through a closed window?

That was the storm? I think I will still have to go out and water my plants, it hardly wet the ground. The plants are loving this weather, though.

Tomorrow's agenda includes rototilling and planting the seeds in the garden. It is supposed to be cooler, so I'm psyched.

I often save time consuming technical projects until summer break. Today I have been aggravating myself with my ancient Iomega zip drive. It isn't the "click of death" but it may as well be. I've tried (almost) everything and I am now contemplating how to get the files off the disks. A couple years ago I bought a new power adapter for it. I don't want to invest in another obsolete drive at this point - if they were cheap I might consider it, but they aren't. It's pathetic. And frustrating. I could pay Iomega to transfer them for me, but they won't even give me an estimate without looking at the disks, and I am very reluctant to surrender them to the company when they manufactured this temperamental device.

Getting back to routine after the long weekend in Samsonville. The electricity was working when we arrived, but the wire for the cable was laying across the road near our driveway; a short distance away, between our house and the road, there was a branch down. I wanted to work on the computers, to test whether my mother's can be converted to wireless so we can eliminate the high speed lightening rod that has been the source of all the computer frying, but that isn't possible without Internet! So I called it in, and the robo voice said they were aware of the outage and would call me when it was fixed. 

On Sunday, I received the call, so I rebooted the modem. No dice. I walked back out to the road, and the wire was still laying on the ground. Must be they fixed the widespread problem (and it was widespread, Central Hudson and Verizon trucks were everywhere, all sorts of trees were down with dangerous-looking wire draped all over the place), but individual houses that were out had not been addressed. So I called again, and the answer is that they are not going to fix it until June 14! Yesterday I saw my brother, and his is also out - with the same response from TW.

He has all-in-one, but I only have Road Runner. I'm also only there on weekends, but for his household, that means no phone, no television, no Internet for nearly three weeks. Luckily where he lives, cell service works, but at my house, it doesn't. He said it will be good to have television cut off for that long, although he resents having to pay for it. I told the very nice woman who was on the phone that I am not paying for turbo a la carte (sixty bucks a month) for three weeks. She said, of course you will receive a credit but I doubt that is true without me calling and going berserk. Regardless, I'm not happy that my mother will be without Internet for that long, so I am going to give them a couple business days and then call back. Sad to say, sometimes going nut job is the only option when you want results.

In terms of the weekend, though, it was fine to not have email. Being "off the grid" has its advantages. We took the cover off the pool, and did a lot of visiting. I conducted the interview for my pending nonfiction story. I don't have television in Samsonville, and the very nice woman was incredulous. When I mentioned having turbo and not being willing to pay that exorbitant fee when there is no service, she said, "why don't you have TV? It would only cost a little more." I told her even in my "main" Castleton house, I only have up to channel 20. Believe me, that is still too much television. She wanted to know, what do I do instead of watch it? I said, I read, I work outside, I write, I draw, I cook, I play with my animals. I daydream. And of course, I have computers and a DVD player so it's hardly a big deal.

Anyway, yesterday I went to the parade in West Shokan, as I often do. It was great, as always. But no 'net meant no posting. Besides tinkering with the wireless, I intended to upload some pictures to facebook for Memorial Day.

 

I wrote about it in 2008 (which might be the last time I attended, since in '09 and '10, Bob was convalescing). It doesn't change a lot from year to year, and I have to make the same comment about the band as I did three years ago. This year, my father approached the band teacher in advance and said the American Legion had a special request. Could the band play for the entire route? The teacher said no! The kids have to do three parades in one day (it is a huge district in terms of area and there are three towns consolidated) and they would be too tired if they played the whole time! The distance from the general store (where they step off) to the town offices (where they have the ceremony) is not even a mile. I walked it and biked it as a kid several times every day. Something is definitely wrong if 14-17 year old teenagers cannot march and play musical instruments for that distance. Granted, yesterday was hot, but I suspect the truth is they do not know how to play. They can't be that frail and out of shape. "Insiders" wonder why communities become skeptical and non supportive of their local public school - I say it's no mystery. Music Man all the way!

My father told us that he wanted to say "I pay for your salary, the uniforms, the instruments, the buses that truck the kids over, and the gasoline to fill those buses" and "when I was 14 I could run over High Point Mountain and back and still have energy for the parade" but of course he didn't. When he was my age, he might have - but he has mellowed considerably with age! Funny to me also was that he referenced High Point, as when he was 14 he did not live anywhere near it.  

I had to crop the band photo. My fingernail made a white streak at the top of the frame. I have very long fingernails. They are real, and I don't paint them. They grow fast and are extremely strong. My thumbnails are so strong I could use them as screwdrivers. My nails mostly don't get in my way - I can type and garden and wash dishes. My rule is, when one breaks, I cut the others. Generally that works, but occasionally, none break and I start getting Howard Hughesy. I notice students mesmerized, watching my hands (since I tend to talk with them) -- perhaps thinking "what a weird lady." Then they do start to get in the way, as in this picture. The risk of a painful break increases. I think it is time to get the scissors.

 I decorate the front porch with 2-4 variants of this hanging basket every year

 I can hardly wait for the first tomato!

 Teddy is my first cat who likes catnip

 This is to honor Sophie and Sam and all my wonderful dogs of the past (although they much prefer the veggies)

 Forsythia on their way to transplant in Samsonville

 The street rehab left us with a triangle near the front door (Sophie sniffs that quasi-tacky butterfly every time she goes out on her leash; she mistakes it for a flower)

These chives are the first sign of spring annually

 Next week: rototilling and seed planting! But right now, the power in back in S'ville...so away we go.

Ugh. This will definitely impact our going to Samsonville today, if our house is involved (as it usually is). One thing I want to do while I am there is sort out the fried computer situation. My sister, bless her, has already fixed about 90 percent of it. But I'll still need power to finish the job! Unlike here in the Capital District, it rarely takes just a few hours to restore the grid.

The other agenda item for the long weekend is research for the non-fiction story I have in the works. I don't need power for that, and the interview is set for Sunday, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Yesterday after my lament I buckled down and started checking off to do list items. I felt a lot better after I did it. In the back of my mind, I was hoping to go out in the late afternoon and start working on the plants, but then the tornado warning came, and I decided hail would hurt the seedlings - why risk it? We did have a terrific thunderstorm very late at night, but nothing else, so I suppose I could have done some planting. Just as well, though - guess what is on the agenda for today? So excited! (Pictures are on the way, stay tuned.)

A couple of days ago I had a strange facebook experience. I received one of those notifications about a friend's birthday. What's weird about that? This person died in October. Not only was the message a sad reminder, but it sparked me to think about her facebook page, continuing to meander along, on autopilot...leading me to contemplate an entire technical world structure without the actual people, going into eternity.

Added: speaking of fb, I decided to put out a call for information to see if the electric is out in S'ville. When I didn't get an immediate response, I thought, "guess that's my answer!" But then someone did respond: Yes, it is. That ability to gather information not easily available by any other means is one reason I am not among the fb detractors. Then I went to the Central Hudson website and found this! The difference between the yellow and orange is only because of density of population - I'm sure every house in the colored areas is out. Pretty cool, even for an unhappy answer. (Unfortunately, if you were in the colored area - you would have no way to see it without electricity, since there is no guarantee your smart phone will get a signal. Lots of folks do have generators, though.)

We both were feeling "blue" over the disappointing dinner on our anniversary. That seems kind of shallow, I mean, who cares? In the scheme of things it isn't important. But, we rarely take days off from work completely. Working at home, in such a flexible fashion means that work is always there, the line is rarely drawn. So a stolen weekday off after the semester's end is much anticipated. And Bob's job is very, very demanding. Finally, '09 and '10 for him were filled with surgery and recovery, especially at this time of year. Both summers were impacted significantly.

I decided that we had to do something fun and life-affirming last night. So we went to Becker's in East Greenbush and bought the annuals! Bob said, "this is like going to a botanical garden." (Or, he added, like Magic Wings.)

Worked like a charm, Now the problem is that I want to go outside and plant them! Most years, I wait to buy plants until I've rototilled, and I target that for shortly after Memorial Day. My grandfather said that the ground isn't warm enough for tomato plants until then, and I always follow that rule. I see others planting much earlier, but occasionally they lose their more delicate seedlings (such as basil) when we have a cold snap. I never do, and my plants always catch up. Another piece of wisdom that works: plants seeds when the moon is getting bigger, as it grows toward the full moon, not after the full moon, as it is gradually getting smaller.

I make sure I clear my plate of deadlines and spend two full days working outside in early June, assuming the weather is right. I rototill, get my plants, and put them in. After the seeds are up, I take another day to mulch to prevent weeds and keep in moisture.

However, jumping the gun to combat blueness has created a distraction! I am not concerned about putting the plants in a couple days before Memorial Day - it's close enough, and it isn't predicted to be cold anyway. But I didn't clear my plate! And this is a Samsonville weekend, so I can't catch up then.

This year I'm going to grow something I've never tried before: Eggplant. My sister calls it "the official Giuliano favorite vegetable." That's true. If polled, more than a few of us would list eggplant parmesan as our favorite food, me included, and the rest would say it was top five or higher. The plants I got are white eggplant = I'm especially excited. I only grow things in my garden patch that are winners in terms of productivity, so I focus on cucumbers and green beans in the ground. (Last year I started using Page Seeds after years of buying from Seeds of Change. Not to take anything away from SoC (a wonderful vendor), but Page is local/upstate and the germination rate was unbelievable! The plants were also very hearty with high yields. Highly recommended.) I plant everything else in containers, and that is the plan for the eggplant. My sister-in-law had great success with container eggplant a few years ago. Uncle Bud calls eggplant "the commune plant" because so many kinds of bugs love to eat the leaves. I'm hoping the container approach will help me win that battle without chemicals.

That same SIL emailed me last night. We have a sort of family community garden at my parents' farm. It has the blazing sun that produces high yields, and space enough to have a huge fenced-in area. She let me know my brother tilled it, and it is ready to go! Among other things, I will plant the leftover cucumber seeds and zucchini. Zucchini parmesan is pretty darn good too! I know it has the rep of being overly productive, but to me, that's a feature, not a bug. It does not grow well in Castleton - soil has too much clay and the yard is too shady, but in Samsonville, Bob could almost open the stand of his daydreams.

We're number one! (NYS = $18,126.)

Our anniversary yesterday was quite an adventure. The Norman Rockwell museum was great. Something I wasn't expecting was that it is so much more about his work than about his life. I knew his illustration and art would be the major focus, but I thought there would be more artifacts that related to his life in general, and that wasn't the case at all. Maybe because his sons are all still living? Regardless, the tour guide was excellent and the experience overall was very satisfying.

Afterwards, our intention was to eat at the Red Lion Inn. We stopped in a little shop as we were walking from the car to the restaurant. There were '60s buttons on display in the store window. We are going to a friend's 50th birthday in a couple of weeks, and it is a costume / theme party - the sixties. We bought a few buttons (they will make great "flare" for the party, and I collect them besides), and headed for the Red Lion Inn. The walk was maybe a half-block at most - during that time, the sky opened up and soaked us! I can't overstate the rain - within seconds it was a downpour - even our shoes and socks were dripping. At the door of the restaurant, we decided that we couldn't sit there and enjoy it in that condition. So we took a "rain check," went back to the car and came home. What a disappointment!

We dried off, changed our clothes, and went to the Carolina House. It's a favorite place of ours, and not too far away. I'm not sure why we didn't call first, because it is closed on Tuesdays. From there we decided to cut our losses since it was getting late, and just go and get pizza. We eat in fancy places often, so didn't mind the downgrade (that much). We ordered steamers as an appetizer. The clams were spoiled! Seriously, they were so disgusting they sparked an almost immediate gag reflex. Then, the server told us that they made a mistake in preparing the pizza so it had to be made over. We didn't mind waiting, were not really in a hurry, but they must have been nervous about the various problems and didn't cook the pie enough, so the vegetables in the topping were crunchy. (I won't name the pizzeria, because it is always excellent and we love it, so I don't want to trash it for this one bad experience.)

So after the museum the day was a comedy of errors. But, I remarked - it's better than being in the hospital! That's where Bob was two years ago.

It's a beautiful day today! I would love to be gardening.

Plagiarism almost always results in some unpleasant email exchanges. Invariably, no matter what action has been taken, the student tries to get the penalty lessened by one degree. So if they received a failing grade on the assignment, they argue to have it count a little more. If the final course grade was lowered significantly, they try to persuade me to just drop it one letter grade. If they failed the class, they argue to get a low passing grade, even a D (last resort) in the class. If they are reported to Undergraduate Studies, they beg to just fail without being reported. And if they get the worst sanction of all - referral to Judicial Affairs - instead they argue to be reported to Undergraduate Studies only.

I'm completely non-negotiable on this topic, and to be honest, there are some students in my classes who have argued with me passionately when we cover academic dishonesty. A good number are offended over my objectivist views, really protest and probably think I am crazy. (Maybe that's why I'm "weird.") Then, the students who are caught red-handed refuse the label of unethical and don't like being called on it. They don't seem to believe it reflects a character flaw - after the initial denial (they stop when they know the evidence cannot be refuted), they say it's the first time and once that falls flat, that it's expedient or understandable or no biggie, not a symptom of a bigger (profound) problem. Quick! Go to RMP and write that I'm incompetent and cruel.

Usually the violator shuts up or dries their tears after a volley and goes away but occasionally there is one who continues to push it. Mostly this happens when I have chosen one of the lower level (in my class) sanctions, which generally means course failure with no referral. That's my usual path for borderline cases.

This approach comes in two varieties: schmoozers, the sales rep types, or self-righteous, the arrogant types. In the hope of what, I wonder? Hurting my feelings? Getting me to concede? I've one such student now, unfortunately not someone who is trying to win me with flattery. (That wouldn't work either, but it does make me feel a lot less pissed off.)

An odd feature of this incident is that it shares something with a long-ago case that caused consternation at that time, and then again, recently (as well as sparking a really nasty comment on a post). They are the only times in the 20 or so times when I've detected cheating where the student would have gotten the bad final course grade anyway, without having to be sanctioned for plagiarism, so technically they didn't fail due to academic dishonesty. That factored into my decision to not refer the case to the university for review and additional penalties. No need. Maybe I should have, in both cases?

The condescending missives I've received drip with outrage and finger pointing. Oh yeah, I'm the one who is out of line. I suppose it is easier to be mad at me, than to take responsibility. Unfortunately, this is one of those times when I can't elaborate with lots of details for a long time, if ever. I would dearly love to copy and paste the correspondence here to record it, but that would be unethical.

Suffice to say, when something like this happens, I ponder why the student is trying to push my buttons? It is possible they do not realize that they should go away and thank their lucky stars, because I always have an excellent "paper trail" and if ruffled, I may be forced to resort to a worse penalty than the one I imposed?

PS I hate to be writing this. I wanted to put the semester to bed, and move on. And honestly, complaining about awful students makes it seem as if I think poorly of a lot of students, which isn't true at all. One of my constant sources of frustration - and I know the same is true for other faculty - is how much time the tiny minority of bad students take up, and how little time there is to devote to the bright lights.

I don't necessarily mean "A" students when I describe them as bright lights, either. Oh sure, A students make up the largest proportion of wonderful students. (But, not all A students are wonderful.) What I mean is, most students are great, whether they are A students or C students. I like them a lot; they have much to offer. The students who are working with me on my research are shining examples of young people who make me proud. Cases such as the one I am describing here are rare, thankfully. Unfortunately, though, they are not completely absent; I catch about one per year. I can't just look the other way, as I know some do. That would be shirking my responsibility.

Also, in my experience, the A and B students outnumber the C and D students by a lot. That may not be true in all classes, not sure. Regardless, the A students who are so smart and a pleasure, as well as the B and C students who may need a bit of extra help but deserve it, do not get any where near the attention as the total slackers and the cheaters. Is that always true, at any level of education?

They are exiting? Not before taking the trees and branches across from my house. There was a crew here all day. I'm not complaining, except about the racket. That's one of the hazards of working from home so much. It can be beautiful, peaceful, birdsong the only sound (admittedly punctured occasionally by one or both of my buddies joyously barking). Or it can be VERY annoying - someone running a chainsaw, lawn mower, wood splitter all day, playing music at high volume, revving a motorcycle engine constantly or screaming while riding downhill in the winter (the hill behind my house is the best).

I like to do most work in natural sound. That's what I call it instead of silence. Years ago when I was studying for the GREs or something else high stakes such as comprehensive exams (a one day cram session, typically me) it was one of those days noise-wise - and I did something completely out of character, opened the window in my office and yelled outside to shut up!

Anyway, I remember a couple of weeks ago there was an article in the TU (advocate section I think) about people freaking over trees being cut. Admittedly, the picture did make it look pretty drastic, but I can't say I mind. It isn't that I don't like trees because I do. I love wilderness of all kinds, to the point that even though bugs hate me, I hardly ever kill them; I try to live in harmony with things others seek to exterminate. (Hardly ever rather than never because with my history sometimes I have no choice; it is self-defense. I apologise for it as the gardeners did in Atwood's In the Year of the Flood.)

The reason is because when the weather is bad, I am so grateful when the electricity stays on. This really hit home yesterday, when I was re-organizing the shed. (An aside, years ago we bought a Rubbermaid shed. Everything about our architectural footprint is small, the shed fits in perfectly. You know how sometimes you buy something and are uncertain whether it will be worth it? Well, that Rubbermaid shed has been worth ten times what we paid.) Back to spring cleaning. Something that was in the front of the shed is a kerosene heater. We had to buy it last time there was a major power outage that lasted a while. We don't lose our electricity all that often in Castleton, but it is routine in Samsonville. It is pretty rare for it to be off for a few days at a time even there, but still. And it is even worse in the winter when it goes out. So within reason, when powerlines are above ground - I say cutting branches is OK.

I forgot the mention this pet peeve, also from yesterday: I watched about half of 60 Minutes last night. The story on farmworkers so irritated me. Granted, it was interesting. But so patronizing! I wanted to reach into the TV screen, grab the reporter and say "how dare you. You could never have one shred as much dignity and character as these folks."

I had a really lovely weekend. Yard work figured into it prominently. There is nothing like the feeling of accomplishment from working outside. I just know in my blood I was meant to be a farmer! Last evening, we went to get a pizza after the long day of working in the yard and spied an abandoned vegetable stand on the way. I pointed it out, said that is the sort of place I want to patronize this year to buy my annuals. (If it was in business, that is!) Bob said wistfully, "I would love to chuck everything and open up something like that." Unfortunately after thousands of dollars of education and years of hard work of the mental variety, plus all the financial obligations that we've accumulated, that sort of lifestyle change isn't possible. And I know it may seem charming to a hobbyist, but it is a lot less romantic when it is the way one has to make a living. So I satisfy myself with some perennials and a few annuals, container tomato plants and three squares of carefully managed vegetable plantings. Oh, how could I forget? Also two days of haying in July, if my schedule matches with the timing (which is an opera).

The other thing that made yesterday particularly nice was that it was the 40th anniversary of our priest's ordination, and so the Mass had a few extra touches. We have a choir, band and musical director who are extremely talented. It's like going to a concert every Sunday, yesterday even more so. I also appreciated that there was no mention of the "rapture." Not that I expected it, but I know some clergy of other faiths planned to bring it up. The media was falling over themselves covering it, as if it was news worthy? Why?

Speaking of concerts, I bought tickets to see Bare Naked Ladies at SPAC in July. We rarely travel to SPAC any more; just don't go to concerts as often as we did, the ride to Saratoga is too far, and the last couple of times we went to SPAC we didn't enjoy the experience very much for various reasons. But I had to make an exception for BNL. They aren't playing alone, but with Goo Goo Dolls and Michelle Branch. I don't remember much of the music of either one so I'll have to get up to speed, but BNL could be playing with bands I hate and I wouldn't care.

On the subject of anniversaries: tomorrow we're off to Stockbridge to the Norman Rockwell museum (surprisingly, I've never been before) and the Red Lion Inn to celebrate ours! It's been two years since Bob was really well on this date, so this is major! For us it is about the equivalent of two weeks in the tropics since we do not really take vacations or even full days off. (Part* of that has to do with having two houses, it is the trade off one makes.) He was able to do some outside work yesterday, and I know he felt especially good resuming normal activities.

Finally: off to Samsonville for Memorial Day weekend! Really looking forward to it.

*not all, we never really did, even before the second home. Provincial me, I'm not much of a traveler.

sign of the times

A sunny day! I ran out, "cleaned up" the yard, and weed whacked. The grass was so tall I thought I might have to hay it instead! Imagine hayin' my postage stamp yard, would I even get one bale? Now I'm itching to get the garden going.

About my last post: First, I forgot - Bob was proofed for that mega can of beer! Granted he looks young for his age, by about a decade. But under 21? No way! (Says the "lady" with the black-into-grey hair.)

Second, I put the remaining pie in the fridge last night - tonight we had it again. It was much firmer today!

Cooking is something that I do a lot more in the summer than at other times. I like to cook and (this part isn't humble) I'm decent at it, but I also (pick all that apply) 1) love to eat in restaurants, 2) am often pressed for time, and 3) hate to clean. I prefer to make complicated things when I cook, ones that take a lot of time and make a lot of dishes. I wash as I go so it isn't an enormous job at the end, but still it is a task I can't stand.

Last night I wanted to make beer batter (never made it before). We didn't have any beer (I prefer wine and Bob prefers martinis), so on his way home, Bob picked up one of those big single cans. He didn't buy a lot of items, and he said it was awkward. Who buys big single cans of Budweiser? He decided only two types of people. A homeless person would not very often be wearing a suit and tie (at least not clean ones). The other alternative is an alcoholic, who can't wait to get home to have a drink, and plans to slug this one down in the car on the way!

This is the pie I made for dessert:

It's a Strawberry Chobani Pie!

This recipe is very easy. I made the crust by rolling 2 cups vanilla Oreos into crumbs (they are on sale 2 for $5 at Rite Aid this week). Mix with 2 tablespoons melted butter. Press in 9" pie pan. Refrigerate at least 1 hour. Spoon in 32 ounces of Strawberry Chobani yogurt. Freeze at least 1 hour. Cut up 1 quart fresh strawberries. Mix with 1 tablespoon sugar. Cover top of pie and serve.

It has a flaw. I am going to have to play around a little to fix it. A couple of weeks ago, I froze a small cup of Chobani solid to see what would happen. I already knew it froze and defrosted OK, that wasn't the point. I wanted to see if it would be palatable frozen, as an ice cream alternative. But I found that when it is fully frozen, it is hard as a rock, and it is just about impossible to eat until it is almost completely thawed.

So in this recipe, after an hour, the yogurt is not really frozen. Unfortunately, it is too soft to stay in a perfect pie shape when cut, and that's unacceptable to me. Bob felt the pie was delicious and didn't see this as a big deal. And it does present beautifully as a whole pie. I am not sure what is the exact time to freeze it for it to be not too soft, not too hard - I will have to experiment. I don't want to add another ingredient to the filling (such as Cool Whip....ewwww) unless I absolutely can't achieve it otherwise.

I'm getting near to putting Spring '11 to bed - moving on to reading, article writing, research / consulting, gardening, blackboard upgrade, and eventually the pool...

I wanted to write a favorite anecdote from this semester first. This needs a little background. Early last semester, a friend of mine who was new to facebook emailed me that an ex from long ago had sent him a friend request. What should he do? I advised him to ignore it. That blast from the past sparked him to do a little googling on her name. He emailed me again to ask, could she now be a professor? So I searched too, and told him to check out "Rate My Professor."

After he did this (to hilarious results, I might add), naturally he couldn't resist looking up my name. He emailed again. "Are you a weird lady?"

Now, my policy is to avoid RMP. I can imagine that students find it useful, but I have a tendency to agonize over the littlest comment. Considering the site is anonymous and public - well, it just doesn't seem good for the psyche to explore it routinely.

I always found the evaluations the university collected every semester valuable, until they converted them to an online tool. That's surprising for me, the advocate for early adoption. But the response rate plummeted once it was no longer administered via paper in class, which means only motivated students (those who LOVED or HATED the class and me) bother to complete it. Even at that, it is better than RMP, since the university one has to be submitted before final grades are in, where RMP is sensitive to grades.

After he sent me that note, I had to see what he meant. So I visited. A student had written that I was a weird lady, but nice. I wasn't upset by that remark, and responded to my friend "I am kind of weird I guess. I have some hippyish jewelry and sometimes I say outside the box things in an effort to shake them up. But the truth is the student probably wrote that because since May '09 when I screwed up my ankle I sometimes walk with a cane and canes are weird. Or maybe it is because I occasionally make them draw pictures during class, which is unexpected in a social science class." His answer came back: "you are so past weird you would have to look in the rear view mirror to see it."

So this semester, when the subject of RMP came up during class discussion, I told them that story. The uncomfortable glances when I brought up RMP and the weird lady part - it was so obvious almost all of them had looked my name up and read that. Then the laughter at my cane reference and my friend's response! I thought some of them would pee their pants.

We were focused on the "weird" part of the comment, not on the "lady" part. I've noticed students still use "girl" to describe their female peers, when my generation has been socialized to say "women" for anyone past adolescence. "Lady" sounds like something out of the antebellum south! Admittedly, I've been called (much) worse.

I go in spells where I write a lot about my teaching. I spent some time when I first started writing here thinking about how to handle my students finding me, what things are acceptable to share, etc. I considered this question not just about my classes but about other aspects of my life too. True, 99% of people cannot spell my last name, so that makes google searches tricky. (Even my own maternal grandmother couldn't remember whether it was UI or IU - she resolved it by writing in cursive, and dotting it high up.) But one can't rely on all those diphthongs to keep a secret.

It was an extension of a subject I'd thought about many times pre-www when writing stories - how much to self-censor? It was not really necessary to self-censor a journal in the days of the spiral bound notebook (well, maybe a little) but it was always a question with fiction. I have a couple fiction stories that are great, but one of the main characters makes it impossible for them to be published. I err on the side of self-censoring. I know, most writing advice advocates breaking free, avoiding the practice, but once when I (innocently) threw caution to the wind in a story, it bit me. I didn't even see it coming!

In the early days of weblogs, there were debates about the self-censoring question, and lots of bloggers pushed not holding back online. I was always skeptical of this, even more than in stories.

I keep this ejournal as a record, just like I kept my paper journal. It's a reflection tool, and I use it as a chronicle. I do it for myself. I've been influenced by Elwyn to some degree. Imagine! Keeping a journal every day of your life from age 16 to age 86. Recording the mundane, the weather, daily life, major events. Newspaper clippings and receipts.

I've figured out how to navigate the censorship question. It's gotten a lot easier actually, now that everything is traceable, everybody is always online, and facebook has made everyone vulnerable, not just those of us who were online pioneers.

Still, there are some things I never write about, both in terms of my job and personal stuff. The main character of the story described above is an example. Sometimes I'd like to write more on something - but cannot. That has made me consider starting up a private journal again. But I've never been as consistent as I am here, and I don't want to break that continuity.

In terms of classes and students, I mostly avoid specifics. Not entirely, but that's made a bit easier by my having over 100 students every semester. It's hard to figure out who it might be with so many classes and students. If I want to be a little more specific about something sensitive, I wait several semesters before writing about it. I never write a reflection or funny incident here that I wouldn't share with class. In fact, I often do tell stories and reflections to class. I always get more than a few laughs from my anecdotes.

This is a long introduction to what's on my mind right now. One of those things that I'd like to write about more specifically, but can't. The E student. The reason it's on my mind is due to this. That's one of my anecdotes, from class last semester. The E student is just like the woman I described as meeting at my local watering hole. Oh, I don't know if she is a free spirit, and I don't know if she has a tendency to shoot her mouth off when she drinks wine, "no offense." But the attitude - that education as a discipline, schools of education, toleration, foundations, certification - are BS is a commonality.