I (finally) received a job offer for the position I interviewed for back in May. I thought about it overnight, and today I called and declined. It was a very good job, and turning it down was bittersweet. But I love the challenge and autonomy of teaching, and couldn't see myself joining the 9-5 administrative bureaucracy again. Still, it was nice to be asked.

A sample of my beautiful flowers...

More thoughts about yesterday's post.

It validates to me, one more time, that "legal" does not mean "moral," does not mean "ethical," does not mean "right." Ugh. What an outrage! Something about land really makes me crazy, makes me want to get a pitchfork and chase trespassers away.

Eminent domain always reminds me of Star Trek, and the stupid insistence that the good of the many outweighs the good of the few, or the one, stated as if it was a fact, and not debatable. I wasn't alive to see 10 small hamlets gobbled up but the lives of those small town folks being erased for the good of a distant city still resonates. I guess that isn't a surprise, as the visual reminder is there, and the struggle continues. So this decision comes as no surprise to me. After all - why should the concerns of little people get in the way of sprawl?

On a sort of related note, I started to read Tin Horns and Calico. Maybe the offended folks in Connecticut should study a copy!

I am done reviewing that awful book! I laughed as I was filling in the reviewer's sheet, it asked "is it OK to quote you on the book jacket?" Of course. But I'm not sure it will be good for sales.

I am almost done with the five chapters of a book manuscript I agreed to review for a publisher. It is on economic and social history of education, and it is terrible. I mean, there are some good things in it, but it is mixed around with so much crap that although it is written in an accessible format, I have been tempted many times to forfeit the honorarium, and throw it into my recycle bin, where it belongs. Then, the editior in me is itching to correct all the grammatical errors and typos, but that is not my job so I am resisting. I should be finished tomorrow, and then I can get started on my other projects. My summer class starts Monday (luckily it is ready) and I have my own manuscript to edit.

On a happy note, my plants look great! Even the seeds are sprouted. They love the heat, even as I wilt. For veggies, I planted tomatoes, beans, cucumbers, basil and other spices in Castleton, and zucchini and muskmelon in Samsonville.

And I took my first swim of the season on Sunday! The pool is still kind of greenish, but the water is already warmer than it was in August last year.

Great news for horses and animal lovers! Thank you, John Sweeney. For this reason alone, if I could vote for you, I would. (But I can't, as Castleton was gerrymandered into Mike McNulty's district.)

This is a great idea. Good for Williams. I know I prize my golden apple, and despair when I get even one negative evaluation. Every semester, occasionally in an essay, and most recently in discussion, I ask students to think about a role model or mentor they have had in education, and to share what made them special. Some choose a teacher, some a coach, a few choose a family member, or more rarely, a college faculty member. I also ask whether it is a reasonable expectation of schools, and if so, whether not being able to identify someone means the system failed.

Sometimes students have wonderful stories to tell, and I encourage students who feel this way to let the source of inspiration know about his or her impact. My purpose is not so much to get students to give thanks (although that is a worthy outcome), but to spark students to model this behavior when they become teachers. I'm not saying that teachers deserve to be undercompensated, but teaching isn't about making money, or going through the motions, putting in time and doing the countdown to retirement, or at least it shouldn't be. Teaching is as important a profession as there can be, and when it is your vocation, you are truly blessed.

Not really the same subject, but in the same realm. As a member of my union, UUP (an organization for which I have nothing but respect), I receive numerous publications from educational organizations. One is New York Teacher, which is produced by NYSUT (an organization I don't hold in the same high regard as UUP). In the recent issue, there was a letter to the editor entitled "Wal-Mart not a good investment for retirees." The writer refers to this article in American Teacher, which details how bad Wal-Mart is for communities, then notes that in the Spring 2005 issue of Your Source (from the NYS Teacher's Retirement System), investments in Wal-Mart stock total $688,011,504. Bravo to the letter writer for pointing this out! (Full disclosure: I am not fond of big box stores.) Following the letter is a comment from a member of the TRS board, which says, in part: "Divesting from investments that benefit the members for their future retirement earnings, due to social reasons, would be a breach of fiduciary responsibility on the part of the TRS and the trustees."

Turn the page, after the letter and the TRS board response, and there is this: "Avoid Wal-Mart in Back to School Shopping." Truly amazing! Now, I wonder how advocating for a boycott can "benefit the members for their future retirement earnings?"

All I can say is that few things annoy me more than such stunning hypocrisy.

On a completely different subject, in the crushing heat, we cleaned up the remnants of the foundation job, moved the shed, put the dogs' fence back up, planted the window boxes, hanging baskets, containers, and vegetable garden, and put up the garden fence. I never drank so much water in my life. But it is done, and it was worth it. The pool awaits this weekend!

Hurray for Saugerties! It will be interesting to see how the county legislature votes. Now, how about some home rule for Olive over the large parcel issue?

This (from the Chronicle, but for a change it is free) doesn't seem like much of a revelation.

And now for some recent pictures...

First, the foundation is done!



We also had the main house's repaired.



And some of the flowers.

Here is the progress on the bathroom foundation as of noon yesterday:



And here is the trailer filled with the old foundation:

A Book Meme

(Via Sya.)

1. Estimate the total number of books you've owned in your life.

I have no idea -- at least a thousand, I guess. I have book cases everywhere, in both houses, and a bunch in my office at work.

2. What's the last book you bought?

Tin Horns and Calico, by Henry Christman. I'm not sure it is the last book I bought -- I also purchased several from Amazon.com at about the same time, but Tin Horns is the last one that arrived -- yesterday. It is about the Rent Wars in the Hilltowns of Albany County, NY. The current large parcel controversy in the Town of Olive reminds me of the Rent Wars, and a friend suggested I read it. It is out of print (from the 1940s) and finding it was no easy task, but the marvel of the Internet didn't disappoint. My first edition came all the way from a library in Nevada. The last reprint was in the 1970s, and what's interesting is that the '70s paperback edition is more expensive than the first edition.

3. What's the last book you read?

I am currently reading another book from the 1940s, My Home is Far Away, by Dawn Powell. My sister lent it to me over the weekend.

4. List 5 books that mean a lot to you.

Wow, only 5? I'll give it a try, although some authors mean a lot to me, so for a couple of these I am narrowing it down to an author and then choosing one book he or she wrote.

The Autobiography of Mark Twain, by who else? He's my favorite author, and I especially love this book. I can read it over and over. Whenever I feel sad, I pick it up and he makes me laugh. I could have filled this favorite five list with titles that he wrote, but I'll resist.

Oryx and Crake, by Margaret Atwood. She is my favorite contemporary author, and again, this list could have been filled, or at least dominated, by her books.

The Adventures of Pinocchio, by Carlo Collodi. This would have topped the list when I was a kid, but not the crummy, dumbed-down Disney-fied version.

The Winter of Our Discontent, by John Steinbeck. My favorite of his books, this really resonated with me when I read it years ago.

The Scarlet Pimpernel, by Baroness Orczy. A favorite from my teenage years, the language and absurdity of the situations are very funny. I have read three other books in the series (I think there are over a dozen? Something like that) which aren't quite as good. But one serious caveat, there is some anti-Semitism toward the end of the first book in the series, which has always bothered me. It was sanitized from modern adaptations of the story.

5. Tag 5 people!

No, I don't forward junk mail, or tag people with memes.

Now here's someone who could identify with my stories about poop patrol. These rates strike me as too cheap. I wonder what he gets for the annual Spring cleanup?

On another note, but still yard-related, a crew is here working on our bathroom foundation. It is beyond needing to be replaced, and I am so happy we are finally having it done. The dogs have pretty much calmed down, at first I thought the barking would make me insane.

Update: I may be immune to barking, but the jackhammering might push me over the edge. The dogs are numb, they seem to realize that barking is no use, the machine wins. The foundation is mostly gone now, the bathroom is held up by a series of jacks. Strange, to see it floating.

One of my students from the Spring semester wrote in her journal about not having a television. She said people look at her incredulously when they find out and then ask her, "are you a vegetarian? Do you home school your kids?" She said someone she knew from work was talking about "Ally" and for a long time she thought they were referring to a friend, until she learned there was a TV program called Ally McBeal. She wonders if not being familiar with this part of popular culture will harm her kids.

I think the opposite is true. I didn't have a TV for years, and now I don't have cable. Arguments about quality television fall on deaf ears. Even the better stuff is mostly crap, and watching it is such a passive activity. Better to read, to develop one's imagination through play, to do crafts and art, to go outside in the fresh air with your dog.

When I was a kid, our TV was black and white (which wasn't all that unusual, but color was becoming common). We got one channel, CBS 3 from Hartford, CT. As a result, I never became an addict. Maybe I wouldn't have anyway. I believe my generation is the first that was weaned on the television, and that wasn't a good thing. Today it is even worse.

Strange day. For the second time in two weeks, I am nervous. Two weeks ago I surprised myself by being nervous over the awards ceremony. I'm not sure why, I didn't have to do anything except go up to the podium and shake the dean's hand when my name was called. Today it is the interview.

I am not normally a nervous person, and in fact I have been accused of not having a pulse, or having only one speed (reverse). But that is only a partial picture. As a student I was always nervous when I had to give presentations. I would drop a class that required public speaking. Eventually I forced myself to do them, there really is no way to avoid it in graduate school, but I was never glib. I remember blushing, or at least feeling like I was blushing. Practice does make perfect (either that or it is the comforting status differential) and that fear is long gone - I could wing it and BS my way through any class, if I am not careful it can take the hook (or the gong, I like that image) to shut me up.

But I notice I don't get nervous in the same way any longer. It manifests itself physically - and there is nothing I can do about it. My hand or leg shakes. I feel dizzy. My vision is blurry. I become obsessive-compulsive, and endlessly check and re-check my paperwork and all the details. Why do I put myself through this? I wonder. Nothing is making me do it. But it is probably a good idea to get practice, to force myself to stare it down, to win. Wish me luck!

Here was a jolt. As I killed time on campus this morning, another faculty member and I were discussing whether to give special consideration to a student (who doesn't really deserve it, but I am probably too rule oriented, bureaucracy lover that I am). "She is an older person," he says, by way of explanation. I nod, and fidget. I have access to the records system, and had just finished looking up her grades. I had noted her date of birth, and it is about one year later than mine. I'm not all hung up on age or anything. I don't wear make up, or dye my hair. When everyone in the room except you is 20 - and new ones come in every year to replace the ones who have aged, there is no point in clinging to denial. I don't know how old the other faculty member is - my guess is that he is probably younger than I am, though he looks considerably older (of course that is just my admittedly biased opinion). "Older person." Hmmm. I guess it happens to all of us, try as we might to run away from the truth.

I'm in one of those moments where my to do list is growing, but none of it is urgent, so I accomplish nothing productive, and the inevitable result will be all kinds of pressure in a few weeks. In my dreams I am organized, the kind of person who does a little bit here and there along the way and is done in plenty of time. In reality, I am driven by deadlines. This is the good advice I dispense to students: don't procrastinate. But I guess it should be followed by the tired cliche "do as I say, not as I do." On the flip side, I never miss a deadline, the product comes out fine, even (at times) spectacular, and most people don't guess that I got there by burning the midnight oil. So I surf, write email, go outside and watch the flowers grow, all the while feeling a little guilty (just not enough to get moving).

I couldn't resist...I sent this note to the board of directors. (The link to the speech and her original explanation have now been removed from the Pepsi website, and replaced with a brief note of apology.)

Recently I have noticed some criticism of Pepsi's President's remarks at the Columbia School of Business commencement speech. I would like to thank you for making the text of the speech available on the Internet. I have now read both the speech and the explanation.

I am sure you are getting a lot of feedback from both reasonable folks and nutjobs, so I don't really expect a response. But thank you to whomever is reading this, anyway. I hope I am in the former, not latter, category.

I have sat through several commencements, a few of my own, most recently this past weekend, when my nephew received his bachelor's degree. Some are boring, or just too long. Some speakers are too caught up in politics, and they fail to realize that commencement addresses are occasions filled with pride for the graduates and their loved ones – speakers should be brief, funny, and most important – inspiring. Reproaching the audience about being ugly Americans is not exactly inspiring.

The president’s middle finger analogy for the United States is just plain offensive, and it shocks me that she would think otherwise. Giving someone the middle finger is a crude and inappropriate gesture. Too often people who suffer from road rage resort to it. Her explanation is not convincing – yes, there is no doubt that she meant the U.S. is important as the middle finger is to the hand, but it is also clear that her intention was to caution the graduates about the U.S. being the other meaning of middle finger – flipping the bird.

Over 20 years ago, I worked at one of the Pepsi flashcubes, along the platinum mile in Purchase, New York. I was a nobody, a temp. It was an OK job, not a bad place to work for a few weeks. Young as I was, I was amused by the backstabbing among those who were vying for management promotions. I am now a professor of education. Sometimes students who are in the school of business take my courses as electives. In my experience, plagiarism is a growing problem – and I am sad to report that when I have encountered academic dishonesty in my classes, it is often school of business students who are the perpetrators.

If she wanted to give advice – particularly in light of the recent business scandals that have plagued major corporations - she might have referenced the importance of being an ethical business person. Or considering the enormous salaries that are paid to individuals such as Pepsi’s president, she might have spoken of caring about the less fortunate, of giving back to society, of making a difference through service to others. Certainly she could have spoken about the importance of cultural sensitivity – but using the middle finger analogy was pathetic, particularly for someone in her high position, and for someone who has reaped enormous rewards from the U.S.

The true irony is that about the only worthy product Pepsi sells is oatmeal. If giving good advice was the point, what about some reflection on the evils of junk food? How do soda and potato chips benefit the United States – or for that matter, the globe?

The latest on the school budget vote.

With the adoption of the large-parcel bill, district property owners in Woodstock and Lexington saw 2004-05 school tax rates reduced by 77 cents per $1,000 of assessed value; Shandaken saw rates go down by $2.49 per $1,000; Hurley saw a 51-cent increase per $1,000; Woodstock saw a 77-cent reduction; Marbletown saw a reduction of $1.10 per $1,000; and Olive, which has yet to complete a townwide property revaluation, saw an increase of $310.97 per $1,000.

Hmmm, $310.97 per $1,000 increase v. .77 per $1,000 decrease...duh, it failed. (And in whose twisted mind was that "equity?")

Now that I am free of the heavy workload generated by the end of the semester, you'd think I would have lots of fascinating things to write...but I don't. I have not been able to catch up on sleep yet, since every morning I have been awakened by the telephone. Today it was a wrong number. Twice.

I have a fair amount to do this summer. I already started to get my work space organized. Now, I have to send all of my students the promised email memo with a breakdown of their grades (it doesn't seem urgent this time around, since only two students have emailed me to complain, one B+ wanted something higher, and one A- wanted A. That may be a record). There is the Gale Group book on education to update. Also, I am reviewing a few chapters of a new textbook on the history and sociology of education. Then there is the summer course to teach during Session II, and designing the new course I will be teaching in the Fall. And there is always student advisement to do.

This spring, I have not done much of my favorite summer activity, yard work. Soon I will get busy. I am one of the volunteer gardeners at Historic Cherry Hill, and on Saturday I am going to put a couple of hours in there. I have lots of plans for Castleton, and this year, if I can figure out the watering-from-a-distance dilemma, I am hoping to grow zucchini in Samsonville, since my Castleton yield has been disappointing for two years. Not enough sun for squash, I guess, and since space is at a premium, I am going to put in a more prolific crop.

Several weeks ago, the weather reporters on the news starting talking about how things can be planted after May 1, and I laughed at their ignorance. Since then we have had several nights that were below freezing. I think people used to observe the rule that there can be no outside planting in this zone until after Memorial Day. I think this is the best practice. I have never had my tomato plants killed by late spring frost.

On the home gardening front, I don't think I mentioned it here, but for the first time ever, I did not have to do my usual disgusting spring task. If you are curious, here is my report on this task in 2004 and here it is in 2003. (I guess I had better things to write about in 2002, when this journal was new.) Last fall I vowed I would go outside all winter and clean up after the dogs immediately, no matter the weather, time of day or what else I had to do. I kept my promise, and waded out in the yard in the deepest snow, shivering in the dark in my night clothes, dodging thunderbolts. I was motivated by horrible past memories.

As it turned out, due to Rudy's long illness this winter, I had to check regularly to see his status anyway, and sometimes to try to "catch" his urine (eventually he grew to hate this, and would hide behind the shed or in a bush so I couldn't catch him, what with having to wade through deep snow in night clothes in the dark while dodging thunderbolts). I don't think I have ever been so involved with dog excretions. It was part of my daily activities and many of my conversations. I always hoped to report that "Rudy peed, and it looked good."

Anyway - deep snow, freezing temperatures, and thunderbolts aside (yeah, I know there is almost never lightening in the winter, it is possible my imagination is embellishing just a little), I was rewarded when the thaw came, and the yard looked and smelled great. No need to spend hours in a bad mood scraping the top layer of soil into a muck bucket, and wondering why it is I love dogs so much.

Ha, I guess I did have something to write about, but "fascinating" isn't the best word to describe it.

Back to my task list, I have an interview for a job in administration (not at the university) next week. Any more information on that will have to keep.

Goodbye large parcel. Well, not quite. But now everyone (except the worthless board president, it seems) has to admit that "Olive Matters!!!"

From the district, here is a tally of the unofficial results. Read it and weep, reservoir coveters!