I intended to post yesterday and note two things, but this is a busy week and time evaporated. First, yesterday was the fifth anniversary of Uncle Bud's death. How can that be? Next, it was the 21st anniversary of the founding of Gully Brook Press.

Last night I had another dream with my father in it. He was driving. My mother was in the passenger's seat. I was in the back seat. He was talking and looked to be about 80-85. At first we were driving on a road that traveled through a corn field, and then we were on 28A in West Shokan. We were late for dinner, and my father was quite annoyed by this. He narrowly avoided a head on collision, which did not disturb him at all, but really upset my mother. I was going through a roll of money, pulling out bills to make the ticket price ($15 each).

 This chills me to my bones.

I had a series of dreams last night. The first included my father. It was more about other things (specifically a song, "Stuck in the Middle" by Stealers Wheel), but it featured a large group (a dozen or more) sitting around a table having a big dinner, and my father was one of them. It may have been a restaurant, and there were other family members there as well as people I can't identify. I also can't specifically identify any other family although "the feeling" was that they were present. If it wasn't for satellite radio and a Facebook meme, I would not know who sang that song.

Last night, I again dreamed of my father. I has been three months since the last one. It was a good dream and I was happy to see him. I knew he was dead, and was amazed and so pleased he was there. He was standing, talking on the phone (to a business, perhaps a telemarketer). He was wearing a dark red long sleeved shirt, and looked as he did about 15 years ago. He has been gone 13 months now, and I miss him so much.

In the paper yesterday there was an article about one of the anchors on the local news we often watch. It was a sketchy article, said she was "on leave" and "needed a break." Very odd, I cannot envision the station permitting such a thing. I am not linking or naming her because she's a real person and I don't wish to be specifically unkind, but I really hope she does not come back. The news is so much more pleasant to watch without her. She has a snarky, nasty edge that upsets me.

So after four years of drama, I was officially promoted to Lecturer II. Drama because it took years to get going, partially but not entirely due to the pandemic, and a year and a half to assemble the dossier and move through the various levels of voting, approvals and signatures. Today at the faculty meeting, it was stated that I am part of the initial batch (I thought I was part of the third or fourth) and my dossier and the department's process is setting the bar for the future. Assuming that's true (?), it is quite flattering.

Several nights ago, I had a dream with my grandmother in it. It was just an image of her, very clear, but she didn't speak. It was not like the dream I had in 1993 after she died. Although I think of her often (almost daily), I have rarely dreamed about her since that vivid visit nearly 30 years ago. It was good to see her.

On January 30 a high school friend died. She lived in Texas, and we were connected on Facebook for 10 years or so. She was a real friend in high school, not one of the popular, affluent, snobby clique members (many of whom are also now Facebook friends). She was tall, skinny and kind of awkward in high school, and from a huge family who seem to have health challenges, in that her parents died long ago and some of her siblings have already died. Anyway, she was always nice and funny. RIP Kris.

Today in Facebook there was an ad for pet-friendly washable rugs. I was startled, because Bob and I have been talking about getting one for my office. The one that's currently on the floor must be over 25 years old. The addition of the two Beagle girls to our household is driving the decision, not the age of the existing rug -- I don't care much about household furnishings or shopping. 

So I went to the link, browsed, read up on the product, and ordered a 4X6. We have an echo dot in the living room and recently got one for the kitchen, and I'm sure that's why the ad was in my feed, because I have never googled or otherwise searched for a rug. I'm not complaining, I love smart technology even though I know lots of people are upset about privacy issues. Not me. It enabled my father to turn on and off lights and music when he couldn't walk. The Echo provided him with much amusement and company at a challenging time.

This is appalling. Sure megaphones are obnoxious and student protests during public events are embarrassing. But speech restrictions, over reactions and disciplinary actions are so much worse. How can university "leaders" be so clumsy and obtuse? Meanwhile, the rest of us annually have to waste time on insulting training videos while top administrators (not to mention coaches) get to intimidate students? What happened to being empathetic and respectful? Undoubtedly, tax dollars will be spent defending this unacceptable behavior, and funding (non-transparent) settlements.

My mother turned 90 last Thursday, and we had a cake party at her house on Saturday. Twenty-three people came. It's the first time we have had that many at her house in a very long time, long before my father being gone or the pandemic. It was nice and I'm glad we did it. I was surprised that I was not more preoccupied by my father's absence. (If I put that on Facebook, someone would surely comment "he's always with you" or a similar annoying platitude. Yes, I know. I really do. But responding that way, no matter how well-meaning, feels like a push back - it denies my right to mourn, to feel sorrow.) But today it is on my mind. Earlier, I was overwhelmed by it. I'm remembering numerous other family gatherings. If he was living, we more than likely would have held it elsewhere. The reason -- he would have objected to her wearing herself out cleaning (which she did, for two days.) Still he would have enjoyed it, and I suspect it would have included much food besides cake.

 Last night on the news there was a story about New York's population loss. Bob and I agreed that we don't care about out-migration. You don't love NY? Then stop b*tching, LEAVE and don't let the screen door hit you in the a*s. Two aspects were mentioned: A young a-hole was interviewed who moved to the ignorant State of Florida because his wife works in health care and didn't want to get the COVID-19 vaccine. OMG! How awesome they moved - our State gene pool already improved. Another thing brought up was State and municipal employees leaving after retirement. I want them to go and stop complaining, but it still pisses me off when someone reaps the benefits of a public sector pension and then takes it to a backward anti-tax State to spend.

 One year today. 😢

On New Year's Eve, I learned that my lifelong "best" friend's father died the night before. He was 98, and had been failing for a few months. I'd known him since I was five, having met my friend in Kindergarten. Yesterday I messaged my friend's sister, since we are also friends, due to my long history with their family. She said that she and my friend are really struggling. I get it. Of course their dad has only been gone a short time, but after nearly a year, I am still struggling on a daily basis. I wish I had some brilliant words of wisdom for them, but I don't. I know he wasn't well, couldn't get out of bed or do what he wanted, lived a good long life, as had my father, and unlike my father, this man had lost his wife nine years ago, but those statements don't matter. Life is hard. Happy New Year.

Why do people think X year was awful and they are glad it's over, as if the next year is guaranteed to be better? No question some years are pretty bad, but the sentiment I just described is crazy. Having the calendar change does not mean things will be rosy; that's just wishing your life away. I thought it was silly when 2020 ended how many people thought 2021 was going to be great (because of the pandemic being "over"), and then it wasn't at all. 2022 wasn't awesome by any means but I doubt 2023 will be wonderful either. That's just the way life is, it's good and it's bad. Bob says, "none of us are getting out of here alive."

There is only one other time in my life, 61 years, that I can remember not spending Christmas Day with my father.

I had a student this past semester who is a big PIA. He took a class with me a year or two ago and did nothing, resulting in failure. He contacted me toward the end of that semester to see what he could do, and I responded with suggestions and offers to accept late papers, but he vanished and submitted nothing. He badgered me afterwards, once he saw the failing grade, making excuses, demanding special treatment. I was shocked to see his name on my roster this Fall, but figured maybe his past behavior was pandemic-driven, and he'd gotten his act together. The answer is, he hasn't. He's an entitled little a-hole. The ugly truth is that grade inflation is real. This jerk should have gotten no more than B, really barely deserved a C, but I curved his grade to B+ -- because I want no whiny emails. Guess what? He has spent the past several days peppering me with pushy, obnoxious emails, demanding explanations, telling sob stories and lies. Ingrate. I have many wonderful students every semester, but sadly, the ones like this guy take enormous time and often overshadow the bright lights.

I am going to make a few posts before the end of the month because I want to exceed the number of entries I made in 2021 (52). I have nothing much to write, except that I miss my father! I don't share memes on Facebook about it because I don't want to get responses like "he's always with you." People mean well of course but I dislike sappy, trite remarks. I know he's in my heart and memory. I know he's got a spiritual life. But I want him in Samsonville, in his chair watching food programs on television. I want him in his garage soldering something. I want him riding his lawn tractor. I want him sitting on the porch with his dogs. I want him at the dinner table devouring linguini. A meme I especially cannot stand has to do with "no more tomorrows." I don't want to think of him having no more tomorrows. Bob dismisses my attitude about the "no more tomorrows" meme by joking that it's like the ridiculous "thank a soldier" Reader's Digest poem that's always read on Memorial Day. He makes up hilarious lines like "if you didn't get sick, don't thank your mask, thank a soldier." (His are better.)

I am overhearing the news playing downstairs and there is an anchor I detest. Her irritating voice is like nails on a chalkboard. I hope she finds a job somewhere else and moves away. (Like that obnoxious, conceited nut Kari Lake did.)

This is not a very cheery post!

I finished grades today. Yay! 

We put this on my father's grave on Saturday.

The a-hole Florida governor is going to try to get a grand jury to investigate the vaccine? He must have watched that recent "documentary" (Died Suddenly). LOL. I found it on some sketchy app and we watched it. I oppose censorship and don't see a problem with it being easily available on "respectable" platforms. (The best way to fight conspiracy theorist, unsubstantiated, nutjob speech is intelligent speech, not censorship.) What an unethical, conceited moron the FL guy is. I think he would do anything -- like declare he's God (he already did) or sell his kids -- to court the ignorant vote.

 We recently watched a two-part Netflix documentary about the Iran hostage crisis. It was good, almost riveting, although I'm not sure anyone who doesn't remember the crisis (and possibly students of 20th Century history) would find it interesting. I've been unable to figure out why it was made now. There doesn't seem to be any book coming out or anything. The program argues that the crisis and bungled rescue attempt are the reasons Carter was not re-elected to a second term. I disagree. No question the hostage crisis was a big part of the reason, but there were many others: the stupid decision to not go to the Olympics and the horrible economy -- to name just two.

I got a bizarre Facebook note last night -- having to do with Donna, since it would have been her 61st birthday. Freaked me out.

Three subjects today. First, on Saturday night, I had a dream that included my father. It was brief, just a glimpse. I think it happened because I was concerned that my mother would decide not to come to a family event the next day. In the dream, my father attended a gathering (not sure what it was), and she did not. (I'm relieved to report that she did attend the event the next day.)

Second, last night I watched the former president's announcement. I almost never watched him (except during COVID-19 briefings) when he was in office or during either campaign, but I was curious. I'd forgotten what a poor speaker he is, so vague, rambling and imprecise. The idiots who worship him eat it up though. It speaks to their ignorance. Seriously, the quality of our political candidates and elected officials is appalling. The media is not much better. ABC and CBS had a split screen with a pundit blabbing while the speech was going on. Why did they broadcast it at all? (NBC didn't.) They really believe viewers need a commentator to interpret? I had to watch on a local Miami station to be able to listen myself.

Third: This is shameful. I hardly know what else to write. I am embarrassed.

 Last night I had a dream with Howie in it! He died 27 years ago. It's odd I had this dream on the 23rd anniversary of Penny's death (November 2). She wasn't in it, another strange thing since they were inseparable. It was so good to see Howie again. He looked great, adorable as always. He did not seem to be as old as he was when he died, although in the dream, he was having some minor health issue. Mostly he was sleeping next to me -- which is indeed what he always did.

 

This is Esteyvin's latest picture, the boy I sponsor on Unbound. He's now 12. I'm thrilled that he has a dog!

This was posted on a community page in Facebook because she lived in Olivebridge. I'm going to make an assumption she was a weekend resident, or perhaps she became year-round once the pandemic hit and remote work became common. I didn't know her, and I say RIP, but I did see the movie, which I absolutely despised. I love Meryl Streep, and her part was slightly more palatable, but I wouldn't call it her finest role. Otherwise, the story was dreadful, the main character was annoying and not a bit likeable, and I remember wishing I'd stopped watching after ten minutes rather than suffering through it. After I read the linked story, it reminded me of something I hated about the film: the usual fawning glorification of privileged people and their self-indulgent problems by Hollywood and publications such as the NYT and New Yorker, while simultaneously phony hand-wringing over social justice, equity, poverty, etc. Makes me want to puke.