shut your eyes

and think of somewhere...somewhere cold and caked in snow. (Here and at home) By the fire we break the quiet, learn to wear each other well.

"Shut Your Eyes" by dear Snow Patrol.

Oh, the winter storm that had been forecast and doubted and warned and doubted and here. Oh, the wind. Oh, the fact that I might be grounded in Hutchinson for another day.

At least I have a new green iPod c/o the best little brother there is. At least I have final projects left to grade. At least I have plenty of clothes. At least I fed Snickers through Friday night. At least I now have my trusty old foam mattress pad on this hardest of hard beds. At least I'm healthy and safe this Christmas.

Cheers to you and yours!

good

It's been a good morning, though the nerves are still there. I'm convinced it's from being overwhelmed at what's before me. Two and a half months until my thesis is due. If I think about it that way--which is the only way I'm able to think of it--it's frightening.

I entered the New Letters essay contest this year and lost, rightly so. I read the winning essay today: "Three Hooks" by Robyn Anspach. Beautiful. Broken. Imaginary. Hard. I longed to be broken like her work.

I'm broken in other ways, more local.

I have nineteen pieces in the works. 19. NINETEEN. And they continue to accumulate, unfinished.

No no

As a celebration of the end of the semester, we planned a Bathtub potluck for last night. Now, I don't do much cooking. Really, I don't cook at all. But baking? That I can do. That I love. So I was concerned about finding anything to cook for the potluck. I searched through potluck recipes online but found nothing that sounded appealing and took less than ten ingredients that I didn't have. The idea of cooking a casserole sounded horrible. I considered getting a couple Little Cesar's Hot-N-Ready pizzas. Lame, I know. I mentioned this cooking plight to Amy while we were in our office yesterday, and she gave me permission to bake. I bake good cookies, she said. And that was the word I needed. So I baked a double-layer Devil's Food cake and baked chocolate chip cookies.

We had a lovely time, the five of us, chatting in my dining room. We ate cookies and Amy's rice but no cake. So now I have this big, whole cake to eat. Who wants it? Well, I had one slice earlier. But I'm revolutionizing my health habits again, so I can't eat the whole thing.

"Winds are whipping waves up like skyscrapers, and they harder they hit me the less I seem to bruise."

It's a KT Tunstall kind of morning. The morning hasn't been entirely productive, but it's getting there. Again, I keep staring at all of my writing ideas and thinking how it would be great to write on all of them, but then I don't know where to start.

Now let's go back to John Mayer for a minute. Listen to "War of My Life."

What am I going to read first this break? Technically, I have to read my students' projects, but that is the last thing I want to think about. I keep forgetting that I have to grade them. Can't I just be done? Can't I just keep these students and not grade anymore? For the record, 11:00 am is the best teaching time.

My tree. I refuse to admit that Christmas is one week away. I haven't soaked in the tree yet. I haven't enjoyed the holiday season yet. I have a feeling the tree will be up through January. Not out of laziness but out of pleasure.

Additional

And, just over a week later, here's an article about Great Grandma: Children Cherish 'Dearest' Mother.

Yes, here I am keeping her memory alive. I'm writing about her, too. Writing about that slumber party. Writing about lawn care.

I have so many writings going about so many things...I'm a bit overwhelmed. Where do I begin? Where do I continue? Business cards? The dash? Black hole? I'm a lot overwhelmed.

Actually, I just discovered that my mom has not thrown away my business card collection. I couldn't believe it. I thought they were gone. But now I can go through them at Christmas and write from the real thing--not just what I remember or imagine they were.

I was a strange, organized child. I could give you the number of a Stain Master representative in Hutchinson. And so much more.

Glow

It's been a strange week. Up and down. Cold.

But at least I have a Christmas Tree. I got it right before Thanksgiving--on sale at Target. A $20 6-ft Canadian Fir. Skinny. Small. When I put the three parts together and flocked out the tips, it still looked skimpy. Then I strung clear lights around it. Then I hung a few inherited ornaments and balls collected from previous years' post-Christmas clearance. Snowmen inhabited the tree. I found a tree skirt for $1 at Dollar Tree.

And so it glows. Snickers, partially bald right now, immediately took to lying underneath and kicking at the skirt.

This Christmas, there probably won't be any presents underneath. Someday, either this tree or a larger one in a home will oversee a family of gifts. Someday.

Not that future but another is on my mind. Three months until my thesis is due. Can you believe it? Three months of writing and editing. Well, actually only two more months of writing and then one month of solid editing. It's scary again. And then there's graduation (conditional upon successfully writing and defending my thesis) and a job and movement.

Is there hope? Oh, yes. I am looking forward to the challenge of something new. And right now, I'm disappointed that I only have two more days with my 101 students this semester. This time of the semester is hard--it's saying goodbye after just really getting to know one another. We mesh, and then it's over. And this is my last time teaching 101 at KU, which is sad. I don't want to not teach. But what to do?