I decided that the word "busy" needs a few z's in it to make it more onomotapoeic. How's that for a deep thought on a rainy Monday evening?
On Sunday S. and I did the Spoon River Drive
, which is supposed to be all scenic with foliage and all sorts of autumnal sources of happiness, and maybe it was because it was an overcast, rather chilly day, but we didn't really see the beauty of it. I really wanted
to see the beauty of it.
Me, looking around at the corn fields that surround us on all sides: This isn't exactly how I'd imagined it.
S: Yeah, I thought it would be pretty.
Some of the small towns had craft fairs, and those were fun to walk through (we'd brought Belly with us and her favorite booth was the one selling home-baked doggie treats, 3 for a buck. Can I have a dollar, ma, can I, can I?). (More parens--can you believe I'm dating a guy who enjoys
walking through craft fairs with me? Holy sheeee-it
Here's what I consumed yesterday at these various stops: two sliced apples covered in caramel, a package of peanut butter crackers (those bright orange ones), some fried Wisconsin cheddar balls, and, later in Peoria, a spinach and feta pizza. Can you say DIET? Say it with me now. Ugh.
Other bizziness: teaching and grading and prepping and listening to Julie Wonka do a run-through of the paper she's giving later this week at the University of Nebraska Lincoln. When she was finished I told her that I was a) so so proud to be her colleague because she's so damn smart; and b) wanting to keep her all to myself, to publish her work somehow myself, and to thereby claim some sort of credit for it, if only by association.
On Saturday night I experienced the first of many birthday-week celebrations, because my friend Nan and I share the same birthday. Gifts were given. Fun was had. Gambling was happening, and some damning photos were taken, but I've promised not to post them publicly. Sorry, folks.
Let the celebrations continue, I say.