We finished watching Three Pines (eight episodes) and were so disappointed to discover that there will not be a second season! 

My classes are going well so far, but unfortunately I have a couple of grad students who are "taxing."

I am "stealing time" from my to do list because this post is so overdue! First, on Monday, I hit the first social security eligibility age: 62. I am not retiring right now, and probably won't for quite a while, but at least it's nice to know that I am "old enough" for the sh*ttiest payout. 

On my birthday, when I made my daily call to my mother, it rang several times (seven, I think) and then her answering machine picked up. This is strange, because since she switched to cable phone, it usually just rings and rings, regardless of whether she is not answering, she's on the phone, or it's out of order. My father's voice came on, with his wonderful message. It took me by surprise, and brought tears to my eyes. How wonderful it was to hear from him on my birthday!

This brings me to my dreams. One was about a co-worker from 25 years ago (who became a friend) and I working in some kind of office with lots of desks but few other people. There were a bunch of groundhogs living in the desk drawers and we were very protective of them when others came around complaining. I had another with my mother-in-law in it, involving our current cat. She was trying to put him out for the night (he is 100% indoor cat). Then I had two (maybe three?) of my father. In the first, he was watching television or a movie on a flash drive. I know screens are tiny now, but this was something that has not been invented yet. Maybe it exists in heaven! In another, he was in a facility of some sort, cheerfully bossing everyone around.

I mentioned movies, so I'll share that we watched The Wife, She Said, and You are so not coming to my bat mitzvah. All were excellent in different ways. The Wife would have been a lot less good, but was made better due to quality acting. We watched the limited series Surviving Death which was also excellent, and are currently enjoying the show Three Pines. I almost can't handle suspense any more, but so far, I'm managing (I used to love both true crime and suspense but that's less true in recent years).

Finally, Saratoga. Thank God another season is over. This year's death toll IIRC was 14, two in one day and one of those on national television. It always sparks investigations that lead to nothing and ridiculous platitudes about the health and safety of horses being of utmost importance. Bullsh*t. While 14 is outrageous, it is not atypical.

 Another dream. I didn't write about the things I listed in my last post. Just too damn busy!

Three weeks of semester done already. So many things I want to write...but no time! Three dreams. Two movies. Saratoga. Hopefully tomorrow I can tackle.

 First week of classes done. So far, so good. Busy busy busy is an understatement.

 Classes start Monday and I guess I am ready. I am posting mostly because I had another short dream about my father. We were at a counter, eating pizza! So real.

Less than a week to go until the semester starts. I think I have never been less enthused, although there is always apprehension so maybe my perception is off. I have a dreadful schedule this Fall, the worst ever. Class everyday, M-TH and then every other Friday. The switch of LMS isn't helping my attitude.

 Last night I dreamed of my father again. This time I was with my mother, and we were sitting a couple of desks apart in a classroom circle of desks. Except that it wasn't a classroom, even though that's how it looked. It was some kind of restaurant, and we had plates of food on our desks. Sitting across from us in the circle was my father, and he too had a plate of food on his desk. No one else was there; all the other desks were empty. It wasn't a long dream.

 I see my last post, June 30, mentions the wildfire smoke. It's back yesterday and today, this time coming from the west. Still awful!

The Canadian wildfire smoke is awful!

Unrelated: I find the people in the Good Feet Store ads so irritating!!

Toward daylight early this morning, I dreamed of my father again. It was a wonderful dream. I woke up afterwards, which is why I knew when it was. In this dream, he spoke to me. He said my name. When I saw him, I said, "Daddy, how are you?" That's when he said my name, and that he was all right. He was dressed in a light jacket or sweater, as if it was fall. He was wearing glasses. He looked great.

I'm reading this book right now. I'm seven chapters in, and so far it is a good read. My only issue with it, and this isn't really a criticism, is that it's a young adult novel. In recent years I prefer fiction for people like me (in other words, OLD). LOL. Regardless, it's well-written and engaging. I discovered it because everyone in my school at the university is being encouraged to read it, with the suggestion given to faculty to include it in class. Initially, I was reluctant, because the last university-recommended book was awful.

 This story in the news captures my imagination, in a terror-filled, creepy kind of way. I keep thinking, the Titanic claims five more.

An excerpt from my "Mimmie book" that I wrote in 2003, ten years after she died: 

Mimmie didn’t like to go many places, but she did enjoy strawberries picking; in fact, she even liked it more than she feared snakes. In my mind’s eye I can see her, wearing sneakers and a house dress, carefully navigating the rows, carting quarts of perfect berries, making sure that she didn’t step on any plants. She looked frail, but somehow strong at the same time. Mimmie never gave into temptation as the rest of us did, by sampling the berries while out in the field. That was due more to the fact that insects may have been on them at some point, than to a concern about pesticides. And if she discovered later that a bug had gotten into one of her quarts, she’s have to throw the whole thing out.

“Next spring, if I’m alive,” she’d say afterwards, her blue eyes sparkling as she looked off into the distance, as if she could see all the way until the following June, “I’m only going to pick medium sized red-orange ones, instead of ripe ones. They’re rotten by the time you get them home.  And the big ones look nice but they’re tasteless.”

 Strawberry season! They are so good this year!

The idiot who complained about "The Hill We Climb" and other school library materials in FL is quoted: "I’m not an expert,” she said. “I’m not a reader. I’m not a book person." Apparently FL is the right place for someone who wants to raise equally ignorant kids.

 I got the grading done, but really pushed it this semester, finishing with only two hours to spare. I'm writing here today because I want to record again a dream that included my father two nights ago. A bunch of people were around and he was talking -- he was very animated. I was thrilled to hear how glib he was, but I knew he was dead. I clearly remember thinking, "oh, that's what being dead is! He's still here!"

 Up to my eye balls in end of semester grading. It is going pretty well so far. I am writing this post because I wanted to note that I had a dream a few days ago that had my father in it. It was just a glimpse; he was wearing a shirt he wore all the time when he mowed or fixed stuff in the garage. We had no conversation but I surely appreciated the visit.

 While waiting for end of semester assignments to come in, I watched the consultant's report for my alma mater school district (it was impressive) and read a few newspaper articles. I had already read the study months ago. Apparently, the board has voted to close an elementary school, and plans to eventually close another, which will result in a central campus. This is a sensible plan that has many benefits - academic, financial and environmental (including decreased CO2). Closing schools is controversial and painful and invariably fuels irrational thinking. Parent groups are outraged, which I assume means there will be a faction elected to the board in an effort to preserve status quo. The statements made by the parents are idiotic wishful thinking. The demographics are not going to magically reverse - enrollment has been declining for decades and the same tired assertions are made every time change is suggested. The data doesn't lie. Pandemic-fueled Metro transplants are a drop in the bucket. I applaud the board finally being courageous. Hopefully the faction will not be able to reverse course.

 I'm cruising along to the end of the semester. Feeling frustrated, because I never have any time. There is always something else to do. For instance, on Friday when it was warm, I so wanted to sit outside. But I didn't, because there was too much to do. Bob says I'd be a lot less stressed out if I retired. I know he is probably right, but I'm afraid of what would redefine me if I leave my job at the end of 2023 (I'll turn 62 during the Fall semester). I can't risk it.

Last week I had a dream that sort of included my father. My mother was in it, and he kind of wasn't -- but she said he was doing important paperwork.

Getting back to my frustration with time, I so want to have time to do some real writing. I want to say something profound about life. But instead, there are always essays to grade.