question for summer
What--with salads salads everywhere:
Can croutons get stale?
Distraction number one from other more scholarly pursuits.
I called Becky last night in the throes of all kinds of confusion about this article I'm working on. She was in the middle of putting away the groceries so she put me on speaker phone, which she knows I hate. But that way at least I got to say hello to Teakettle, Luigi, and Freddie (where was Ruthie, I wonder). As she's clearing out the fridge to make room for the new stuff--"I'm not gonna eat ham that's dated April 27," she says--she listens to me try to articulate my argument about anger and plagiarism and, away from a computer, away from a note pad even, she repeats back to me what she hears me saying and when she does that, it begins to make sense! (I hate exclamation points! but here they're warranted!) I had been a little bit hesitant to call because I wasn't sure I could even talk her through it--she being a terrible audience for me because she can fill in all the blanks that I don't necessarily cover--if I couldn't talk her through it, I couldn't talk anyone through it. But I did it, she got it, and she helped me enormously. So thanks, boss.
Here's Molly and Belly relaxing at the dog park on Molly's second birthday, Memorial Day 2006. Molly's still so full of puppy. My girl, she likes to think she's a gained a bit of wisdom in her four+ years, so she works on not letting her tongue hang out quite so much.
Love these girls.
Four years ago today I adopted my girl from the SPCA in Syracuse, NY. Uncle Paul was instrumental in picking her out as I probably would've walked right by the pathetic creature whose nose was running and covered in snot. We were in the small/medium hallway and there was Annabelle, who at the time weighed 67 pounds. I didn't want a big dog. I wanted a medium dog. But I got me the best doggie in the world. And she's not a bad swimmer.
The record is from 1911 and the temp was 93. On May 28. Tomorrow's forecast calls for a high of 96. Mudder o' god.
I am the biggest wimp when I'm sick. Somewhere along the way I got it in my head that I've done my fair share of suffering in this life, so I don't need to be suffering with this nuisance of a cold. It's really that: a nuisance. But I'm so damn impatient with it. Go away already.
What's worse than a cold in the summer? Tomorrow's temp will be mid-high 80s, and we've got 90s in store for the weekend. And this damn cold won't go away. Coughing, hacking, sneezing, hurting.
Yesterday at the park Belly seemed really hot, foaming at the mouth a little and everything. So on the way home we stopped at White Oak park, which is a one-mile trail that surrounds a small body of water (lake? pond? I dunno). I'd taken her there before for actual walking, but this time I wanted to let her take a dip. At first I let her go in with her leash still attached, but then we found a beautiful stick, so I unleashed her and threw it for her again and again, and she actually FETCHED it and brought it back more than once. Simply amazing.
Last night the Tricksters lost their third game, by a very close 3-2. And there's some question about whether the game will "count" because it seems the other team might have misread the rule about women being able to walk instead of hit when there are two outs. Here's the way the rule is written:
My review of Candace Spigelman's Personally Speaking: Experience as Evidence in Academic Discourse can be found in Composition Studies 34.1 and here online.
When we were parking at IKEA, I told Keita that I was excited that I'd no longer be an IKEA virgin. Then when we walked in, there was a huge sign that said, "It's okay to be an IKEA virgin." That made me feel better. I bought some chair pads and some fly swatters. Big spender, I know.
See, I've still got a bit of my German language skills.
No, I'm not stalking anyone.
Okay, the answers to yesterday's Scrabble quiz are C and V.
Here's your quiz, the reward being the satisfaction that comes with knowing generally useless information. But if you're a Scrabble addict, it is entirely USEFUL information.
I leave for Virginia in a week to visit Keita and Damon and the chilluns. I think we're planning (me and Keita, not all of us) to visit the Holocaust Museum in DC one day. After taking the course on cultural trauma, I'm anxious (in many senses of the word) to see it.
Just so's you know.
The Tricksters started the 2006 season off on the right foot with an 8-4 win. We lost the second game, just barely, 14-13, but I gotta hand it to us, we had a beautiful rally in the 4th inning, coming back from a 9-2 deficit. In the second game, I actually hit the damn ball and managed to make it all the way around to home. I walked a couple times, struck out twice (grrrr. that last one was FLAT, by golly), and had a couple good hits but didn't make it to first fast enough. Everyone played well, especially Kris D. with some awesome catches out in left center, Robbie Doodle with his fielding at shortstop (MVP for game 1 if you ask me), and Bill with his walk-free pitching (I'm imagining there's an actual term for that in baseball lingo, but here, on LTF, it's called "walk-free pitching").
Oh. My. God.
I know I say this all the time, but it's MY blog and I'll get all nostalgic if I want to. I had my last meeting with my students in the personal essay course this morning and IT. WAS. SO. GOOD. Everybody read an excerpt from their long personal essay, and then we sat around and talked about what we each learned from the course. It was informal, and that's why I liked it. I didn't have to ASK anyone to talk. It just happened. And I could just cry I'm so damn proud of them.
Major spike in readership yesterday. Write about abuse and these things happen. Go figure.
Didn't I just write the other day that it was clear that I'd been making progress in the psyche department? Life lesson that sometimes takes a long time to sink in: it's a process, this thing called health. One week I feel like I'm done and the next week I have dreams like this.