Sunrises and Citrus

The sunrise was beautiful this morning. I mean, how could a sunrise not be beautiful, right?

Over the past few years, I have cultivated an appreciation for sunrise. I used to think of sunrise as merely the opposite of a sunset, and sunsets don't require getting up early. But anymore, there's something special about watching the ink from the night sky get washed away, giving way to orange and pink splashed across the sky. And sunrises and sunsets are spectacular in central Florida - a delightful bonus of relocation from California. By virtue of my commute, I get the privilege of witnessing the sunrise almost every morning, except for summer and a few weeks surrounding daylight-savings changes. Today's sunrise was more vibrant than most. Enhanced by mid-level clouds, the orange in the east was like fire. It was short-lived, as many beautiful things are, without the flickers of pink that linger on higher clouds. There's much to being present for the dawn. As much as I enjoy sleeping in, too much makes me feel wasteful. Besides, how could you not be seduced by sunrise when you have a camera in your hand? Sunrise shots like this make the early alarm, jet lag battle, and pre-dawn driving escapades worthwhile.

In other news, I squeezed the most fantastic orange juice this weekend. Normally, freshly-squeezed juice is just thin, watery, and anemic. I pass a citrus stand ("Honor System - put your money in the box") twice a day on my drive to and from school. Friday, after a discussion of the merits of locally-grown produce, the stand proffered four large bags of tangelos. I stuffed my bills into the box and brought one home. The next morning, I thought I'd section a few, but my cutting was met with a deluge of juice. So, I put down the knife and reached instead for the reamer. Man oh man. This stuff was rich, full-bodied, incredible.

ISO Adjectives

I need an adjective.

Specifically, I need an adjective for my style.

More specifically, I need an adjective for our home decor style.

If I see something that is our style, I know it. But to describe that style in the absence of symbols? Kind of difficult. It's sort of Mission, but without the Spanish. It's sort of Arts-and-Crafts, without the country. It's sort of modern European, but without the Ikea. It's sort of eclectic, but with a bit of focus. We don't shy from bold color, as our red sofas, eggplant-purple door, and rich tones of paint on the walls attest. We definitely tend toward squared edges and straight lines, but not exclusively. We like classic stuff, but with a modern twist. We like modern stuff with a classic twist. It's not typical wicker-and-palms Florida. It's not over-the-top gilded rococo. It's not spartan minimalism. It's warm, comfortable, and inviting. At least, I think so. I need to get an independent opinion.

How to sum all this up in a label or four? (shrug) So come over and tell me what my style is. We need to throw a housewarming party anyhow - we'll just task our guests with the adjective search.

Fish, Clothing, and Emily Post

I think my fish is dying. I'm trying to stave off the death. The fish was part of a centerpiece at prom last year (not my idea); and a bunch of students (and I!) took home fishies that night. I kept him in a beaker in my classroom last spring. Named him Fred. But the beaker would get funky awfully quickly, so I bought a wee tank and filter for him. Starting a couple weeks ago, Fred's been pretty listless. It had been cold in the evenings, and the cool water was probably stressing him out. Lately, however, he's been hanging around behind the filter outlet, and not moving very much at all. I didn't see any telltale white splotches of ick, but upon further examination, he appears to have some sort of something on his back. I'm guessing it's some kind of fungus infection. I gave his tank a thorough cleaning, did some quick research on fish treatments, and found that methylene blue can be used to treat such afflictions. Hey, this chemistry teacher has plenty of that! I turned off the aquarium pump, too, hoping that still water will ease his irritation. We shall see...


Went to a Super Tuesday party last night. ABC was proclaiming winners of primaries with a mere 6% of precincts reporting. Never before have I witnessed such a steamrolling of data and statistics. But that's not my point. I didn't want to bother driving all the way home and all the way back to school and stayed out that way. Which meant I had to plan far in advance for dress-up Wednesday. And a warm Wednesday, too. I have a hard time selecting outfits one night ahead - invariably, I don't feel like wearing whatever I picked. Plus, I had to cart my morning necessities with me. I'm not that high-maintenance, but I do require some product. Anyhow, I had a feeling yesterday that I wasn't going to be satisfied with the clothing choice I'd packed for today. The suit I brought, I like it, but there was a loose button (which manifested itself as a wardrobe malfunction this morning, requiring a swift dash to the theatre costume shop for repair!). I didn't bring the belt, either, and I still don't know where that might be. Despite my poor clothing pick, I received several compliments today. I suppose just means I can disguise poor wardrobe choices well. Or at least make the best of them. It was a weird start to the day, too, outside of my typical routine. I was able to set my alarm for the time I'd ordinarily be leaving for school! Anyhow, driving into campus this morning, I had a strange sensation - almost as if I'd not left campus since the morning before. I suppose I use my drive as mental distancing from the school day more than I realize.


Finally, how is etiquette taught these days? I used to check out Emily Post volumes from the library as a middle-schooler. We had workshops in college designed to teach us luncheon etiquette and business communication. How else would you learn the proper ways to address a letter, what fork to use, or the right time to applaud during a concerto? I've heard some criticisms of social graces as effete elitist rules, however, I believe etiquette serves as a way to make people feel comfortable, not uncomfortable. It provides a structure in which to operate, where people know what's expected and can respond appropriately. (I have found no greater illustration of the value of clear expectations than in a classroom.) I could have used a crash course in military protocol at a former job, where I interacted with both active-duty and retired officers. I always felt unequipped and ignorant. Anyhow, soapbox aside, one thing I considered last year was Jennifer's Charm School, before prom, to give students an idea of what to do at a formal dinner dance. As much as we prepare students for college classrooms, I wonder whether we prepare them for life outside the classroom. Balancing a checkbook, addressing others when making introductions, interview and business etiquette. How do you learn this stuff if you're not an etiquette guidebook nerd?


It's that blah time in late winter, when the only food in season is citrus and root vegetables and casseroles. A time of transition in weather, too - our taste of the 80s the past couple of days reminds me I'm not quite ready for summer. It's no wonder I am not satisfied by my clothing choices!

A February Resolution

One thing I've decided I need to do is get back into reading scripture. I've been meaning to read Isaiah for years now, and I'm not going to wait any longer. I also have a brand-spanking-new annotated copy of G.K. Chesterton's Orthodoxy, plus a discussion partner. The rest of my "resolutions" have crashed and burned are still waiting for departure clearance, but this is one I'm determined to take action on sooner rather than later.



In other news, I'm planning to make pickles tomorrow with a group of students - sour pickles (with dill conspicuously absent from the recipe), sweet pickles, and some pickled fruit (plums and pears). I love me my crunchy, garlicky Polish dill pickles, but I have never liked sweet pickles. They're the scourge of the relish tray, along with the green olives. I'm going to give them a go, nonetheless (the pickles, not the olives). Perhaps fresh sweet pickles will change my mind. Anyhow, this pickling venture starts off a series of food-preservation activities that will include some jelly/jam. I'm leaning toward lemon marmalade - or perhaps a killer pear jam recipe I discovered last year. Few teenagers have ever made preserves at home, and it's fun to introduce them to something so (unfortunately) foreign to today's kitchen.

A 70% Chance of Scattered Thoughts

I'm restless. I spent all day in the chemistry lab (With a fantastic group of kids - the lab took 3x as long as it should have, and they really didn't complain. Complain to me, at least!), I realize I'm still grieving losses I thought I was over (though some external things are exacerbating it all right now - more on that at some point), and I'm very nearly though with the busiest week yet. I could really use a nap.

Since it's been a while since I posted anything , I don't quite know where to start. I still have a bunch of half-finished blog-starts. I'm distractable, but with nothing to distract. My phone battery is dead, my iPod battery is dead, I don't have any books I want to read, my google reader material has been read, and I have 30 minutes before I need to be somewhere. And I certainly don't want to do any work. So. Restlessness begets blogging, I suppose.

Jess and I defined the complementary difference in our personalities this week. I've long operated under the notion that I regret the things I don't do far more than I regret anything that I do. "Deliberate" is a positive character trait, to me. I mean, I rarely get into scrapes, try really hard not to put my foot in my mouth, make very thoughtful and safe decisions, and often think and think and think before I act or speak - sometimes never acting because I'm stuck thinking. Not that it's necessarily better than the alternative. Both have their clear advantages and disadvantages. Anyhow, we were discussing a good potential list - Things We Vow Never to Do Again. And I had a really hard time coming up with bullet points. I have an endless list of items on a list of Things I Wish I Had Done.

When I consider such a list, one thing that invariably comes up is a missed opportunity my senior year of college. Not so much a missed opportunity, but something I wish I'd played out a little longer, just to see where it could have gone. I was about to graduate, and I had been looking for employment. I'd had a couple interviews, including a completely insulting offer by a meteorological company that I will not name. One lead was particularly interesting, and particularly well-suited to my interests: a job forecasting weather for publication in two moderate-size Great-Lakes-Region city newspapers, plus writing feature weather articles. Have I mentioned my undergraduate research thesis on lake-effect snowfall climatology and my affinity for both forecasting and writing? Well. I had a couple e-mail exchanges with the person in charge of hiring for the position, including writing a sample weather article. Things were looking favorably, and I even found a nifty apartment in a converted row house in a genteel older part of one of the cities. But then, staying for graduate school started to present as the better option. I was getting married in a year, and I really did want a graduate degree. Seemed more prudent to stay. So I e-mailed the guy with whom I'd been corresponding, to let him know of my decision. And it's not like I regret for one second the path my life has taken since that decision - it's been infinitely better than I ever could have imagined, in extremely surprising ways - but I do wish I'd waited just a couple more weeks or so, to see whether I'd have been officially offered anything, and what the offer would have been. Interestingly, when I had finished my graduate work, I tried to get in contact with the papers, just to see if the position had ever been filled, and it had vaporized. No response from the guy, and it looks like the newspapers had contracted with an outside firm for their weather pages. It has been my experience that doors I'm not supposed to take shut clearly and firmly, pressing me onto a specific path. Here, however, was a door I feel I closed forever, of my own volition. And I slightly regret not opening the door a little wider and having taken a better look. It's a cost of the measure of free will we're given, I guess. The second-guessing, the wondering. Not that it plagues me, it's just one of those what-ifs that spark curiosity. And I can't know - maybe that door would have closed on its own, in time.

Another topic of discussion lately is the notion of "mine". As an only child, I have a keenly-developed sense of "mine". It's not like I had to share my toys with many people as I was growing up. Siblinged people have a much more finely-tuned sense of "my turn". I've learned to give more of myself and my possessions, but I hold some things quite precious, and that's not limited to what is tangible. Words, situations, time periods, too. Anyhow, here is my list of things that are MINE. Things I don't like people to touch, use, etc, for whatever reason.

Mine!
1. My pens.
I don't really like to lend my cheap G2s, much less my fountain pens. Besides, pens mold to their users' writing styles. It's like trying to wear secondhand shoes or something.
2. My calculator.
I've had it since high school. It's boss. And students walk off with calculators. Hence my rule that classroom calculator-borrowing requires collateral - a shoe. But my own personal calculator? You're far within the circle of trust if I let you use my TI-68.
3. My Galileo Thermometer.
It's not for picking up and shaking!
4. My letters of recommendation.
5. My car seat settings.

Thunderstorms

We had quite the stormy night tonight, and I'm reminded of a piece by Garrison Keillor (from salon.com, June 2001) that I've held onto for years:

Some big thunderstorms rolled across St. Paul last week, with lots of nearby lightning strikes to shake the windows and a downpour of rain, and Mr. Blue got to stand on the front porch with Baby Blue and enjoy the rock 'n' roll. It's a modest life here in River City, no struggle for fame and power, just the occasional spell of weather, and a good June thunderstorm is a great boon in every way. It rinses the air and greens up the lawn and garden and gives us a demonstration of power far beyond human control. And the thunderclaps make a little girl laugh out loud. And afterward everything is somehow changed, the ions rearrange. You go for a walk after a good rollicking thunderstorm and feel your own life slightly altered. We live in a mixed bag of a neighborhood, the sort of neighborhood you find a lot of in St. Paul, which doesn't have lawn police, and as you stroll around, you pass old manses lovingly restored and Home & Garden yards and you also pass old manses with trees growing out of the eaves and ancient rags for curtains and yards that look as if the owners are seriously on heroin. But after a deluge, we're all refreshed, obsessive and neglectful alike, and a sort of democracy of meteorology prevails. And as I write this, the sky is darkening and the light turning purplish and there is a great stillness in the yard. Two hundred miles east of here, a westbound plane from Boston is slowing down as the FAA computers tracking the storm rearrange the landing slots at Minneapolis-St. Paul and the sleeping forms in Row 23 stir slightly at the change of engine pitch and the pilot comes on the P.A. and warns of possible turbulence and the lady in 2A asks for another bloody mary and west of here the farmers whose fields are already soggy go to the refrigerator and get out a beer and here in our house a little girl looks out the window at the dark sky and turns to me and says, "Boom!"

After further deliberation, I've decided to append a couple albums to my last list of albums with no bad tracks. Which edges it to a Great Eight list instead of a Top Five, but let's be honest - I've always played fast and loose with the constrictions of five.

1. U2 - Achtung Baby
2. Dave Matthews Band - Crash
3. 10,000 Maniacs - MTV Unplugged
4. Paul Simon - Rhythm of the Saints
5. Simon & Garfunkel - Concert in Central Park
6. Soundtrack - The Last of the Mohicans
7. Leeland - The Sound of Melodies

Default Bloggage

I have a dozen or so blog posts started, but I'm not sufficiently inspired to flesh any of them out today, and it's been a while since I posted anything.

So, I default to top-five lists:

Canceled TV Shows
(in honor of current television blight)
1. The Wonder Years
2. Mad About You
3. Dharma & Greg
4. The Muppet Show
5. Quantum Leap [tie]
5. Grapevine [tie]


Albums Without Anything Less Than a Mediocre Track
1. U2 - Achtung Baby
2. Dave Matthews Band - Crash
3. 10,000 Maniacs - MTV Unplugged
4. Paul Simon - Rhythm of the Saints
5. Simon & Garfunkel - Concert in Central Park


OPI Nail Polish
1. I'm Not Really a Waitress
2. Kinky in Helsinki
3. Friar Friar Pants on Fire
4. La Paz-itively Hot
5. God Save the Queen's Nails


Flowering Plants
1. Plumeria
2. Jacaranda
3. Agapanthus
4. Bougainvillea
2. Old English Roses (but peonies, too, because they look somewhat similar) [tie]
5. Wisteria [tie]
(just noticed they're almost all purple)

Life Lessons at the Bathroom Sink

Over break, we spent time with our niece, who is six years old. As I helped her get ready for bed, she spat out the toothpaste after half a swish and proceeded to rinse her brush as if done. I called her on it, and she insisted she had finished. Incredulously, I thought, "I'm standing right here watching you!" But with a stubbornness that can outlast that of a first-grader, I finally got her teeth brushed that evening. The interaction sparked some thought. Here I am, older and wiser, with this child lying straight to me. Admittedly over a relatively trivial thing - but character informs the casual everyday choices infinitely more often than the "big decisions" - nor was it malicious. But no less a lie. Picture the scene - this very young child trying to sell me on something that we both know to be patently false. Really? Guts coupled with ignorance - and it certainly happens all the time. I'm not a child psychologist (by training, at least), but it has to be a flavor of the boundary-testing and exertion of independence that seems to be human nature, especially in growing up. Give it a try - if they buy it, then you're off the hook. And getting away with it once emboldens. The vigilance that a parent must have to keep these untruths of youth from manifesting themselves into a pervasive habit - to say nothing of the tenacity required... an exhausting job. Makes me wonder how many times I appeared completely foolish in front of my parents, thinking I know more than they do and trying to convince them of it. I'm sure I still do it. But the scope of this foolishness can't be understood without the other perspective. It's not limited to parents and children, either, it's present in the academic dishonesty at school. And extrapolated further, how many times do I pray, talking to God about something that's going on and rationalizing or justifying my actions; meanwhile, He's standing right next to me, knowing full well I haven't finished brushing my teeth. Yet, His patience for our absurdity is infinite. It was a good reminder of the transparency I aspire to have, to say nothing of the insight into the requirements of parenthood.

Happy New Year!

Welcome to 2008, everyone!

I know it's trite, but this past year really did fly by. I don't know where the last half of the year went. I swear, I looked up from everything, only to find that it was the beginning of December, already.

So I'll do the usual thing of listing my resolutions. Which aren't resolutions, per se, but a list of things I'd like to do this year. Which essentially absolves me of responsibility for seeing them through, of course, but hey, you have to start somewhere.

#1: I'll rollover the my resolution for, like, the past eight years: to get in touch with five people with whom I have lost contact. Facebook and its ilk have been remarkably helpful in achieving this resolution in 2007, however, I fell short of my goal of five. Three isn't bad. Four, if you count blog-stalking. :)

Corollary to #1: Stay in better touch, and send things when I think of them. I've had a sympathy card and a photograph set aside to send to a family for over two years now. I'm going to actually sit down and get these things written. There's no excuse, especially when I love mail - even if it's something difficult like a sympathy note.

#2: "Lose weight" is overdone - not to mention ripe for failure - but I really just want to make an effort to be more active. I'm hoping that will help me lose that which I've acquired over the past six months or so. I would like to take walks nightly when I get home, or after dinner - and that's going to require a change in my departure time from school. We'll see how this plays out!

#3: Express more love to more people. It is what I, as a Christian, am called - nay, commanded - to do. I should be less stingy about it.

#4: Read more, but also write more. I need to make more time for personal reading - it always gets such a short shrift during the school year, so I should just make it a higher priority. To accompany my reading, I would like to do more writing. I mean, I have this blog, but it's pretty casual, if you hadn't noticed. I'd like to do more researched writing. Where I'm going to find the time for this, I don't know. But I'm sure I can stuff it in somewhere. I just need to give fewer assignments, right? :)

#5: Improve my posture. I need to stop slouching. Particularly when seated - I need to be mindful of sitting up straight. This is where taking ballet as a kid would have helped.

I wish you all peace and joy in the coming year. I don't know what 2008 holds, but I'm sure it will be some extraordinary stuff!

On the Road

(Yeah, it's a back-dated post. Leave me alone. I only have dial-up here. Makes it tougher to spend time online.)

I drove the length of Indiana today, from my in-laws in the south to my parents in the north. Almost five hours of driving gave me a lot of head-time. Here are some of the things I scrawled on the fast-food bag laying in my passenger seat:

It's remarkable how I take my iPod and XM radio for granted. I'm at the mercy of a "seek" button and a lot of FM junk. Why so many automobile manufacturers fail to include a "scan" button on their radios is a mystery. By the way, I'm driving this Suzuki that's the product of some cross-pollination between an SUV and a station-wagon. It was dreadful enough until my father-in-law proclaimed it "a hearse". Crap - he's totally right.

Driving across expansive stretches of gently rolling farmland, I wonder whether my affinity for this kind of countryside is merely a product of the location of my upbringing. Granted, I've lived in and visited some excruciatingly beautiful places (sorry, Florida is not one of them...) - but there's something appealing about this kind of scene. I'm sure not everyone shares my opinion. I mean, who's going to deny that there are some places on earth that everyone finds unspeakably beautiful. But I can't imagine the same percentage would hold midwestern corn fields in the same esteem as I do. But if I'd grown up in Florida, would I consider swampy marshes as lovely? Maybe it's a moot point, trying to separate out the pure beauty from that which is simply familiar. Beauty is beauty. A product of the beholder, yes, but why question it?

Top Five Midwestern Ephemera

1. A dark sky, highlighted by the silvery undersides of maple leaves exposed by the gusts of an approaching storm. There's always a crescendo to a storm - when the sky gets progressively more ominous, but there's always a subtle dissatisfaction to the denouement, as the sky begins to lighten.

2. A temperate summer morning - not cool, but not overly warm, either - one you know is going to give way to a toasty afternoon later. We never seem to get these in Florida, presumably because of the humidity, which tends to assault you as you step out the door.

3. A bright snowy night, as any available light gets bounced all around off myriad white surfaces.

4. Tree trunks darkened by spring rain, punctuated by the bright green of young leaves on an overcast day. Also: The same thing in autumn, when those leaves have turned red and orange.

5. Late afternoon sunshine across fields in late autumn. Pewter stratocumulus in the sky, growing progressively more grey as the sun slips below them and casts sidelong illumination, gilding everything it touches.

One fun thing about driving long stretches in Indiana is the License Plate Game. License plates are issued by county, of course, and the first digits on standard plates indicate the county. So, 71 is St. Joseph (South Bend), 79 is Tippecanoe (Lafayette), 49 is Marion (Indianapolis). When I was young - middle school, maybe - my parents and I went to Indianapolis for the State Fair one summer. [Warning: severe geekiness to follow!] In advance of the trip, I made a spreadsheet on our new computer (using Lotus 1-2-3, a precursor to Microsoft Excel. On a DOS platform! And an amber monochrome monitor!) of all 92 counties in Indiana, along with their corresponding license plate number - they're numbered in alphabetical order. I remember the hardest to find was Switzerland county (77, IIRC...?) - a tiny little county in southeastern Indiana. Oh, the joy when I finally found that one! Anyhow, it was fun, playing that game again (without my lists, I got to be pretty good about interpolating between counties I knew; I've gotten rusty in the past decade) - though a lot of the fun has been lost with the rise in popularity of specialty plates, which carry no county designation.

I passed an old stone church for sale, on US31 in Tipton County, I think. Too bad there's not much around it, because it would be an awesome building to buy and turn into a bed-and-breakfast! I've long harbored desire for architectural reuse. As I've mentioned in this blog before and am too lazy to link right now.

Train tracks. This state is lousy with 'em. There really aren't many in Monterey, and I don't encounter many in Orlando, either - roads are built around or over them.

Just north of Indianapolis is a Wendy's on US 31 that was always the first indication that you're entering the Indy metro area. At least it was for me as a kid. Now, there's so much development going on around it, I hardly recognize the landmark.

Passed a fancy-looking high school (Westfield?) north of Indianapolis that advertises itself as a Verizon Smart Campus. Remind me to look this up later.

I should make some baklava when I get back to my kitchen. I haven't made that in a while. We also need to have a housewarming party. If for no other reason than to give us a deadline to finish painting the bathrooms. :)

Stopped at Trader Joe's in Castleton (NE Indianapolis). I went in looking for vanilla paste. Came out with $55 worth of stuff - and no vanilla paste. :-\ Did get some interesting foods. I shall report back later on them. Passed the hotel where I remember staying with my parents and some friends for the 1994 boys basketball state tournament, which our high school won. Turns out two of the players from that team have returned to the school as coaches. I wonder how that is, to be a player, with a giant picture of your coach at your age, staring down on you from above the bleachers. I know I'm romanticizing it all, but I can't help but think of Hoosiers. Which is a good movie, by the way. Go rent it - if you've never seen it, you are wrong.

More fields. Seed corn signs at the side of the road. Lonely irrigation sprinklers amid the dessicated remnants of chopped stalks. The demise of the family farm at the hands of mega-agribusiness operations saddens me, even though it seems an inevitability. Cue the John Mellencamp... seek... seek... seek... oh wait, there it is! Rain on the scarecrow...

Just when I looked down to my gauges and see that the temperature outside is 32, I notice some stuff in my headlights. Snow! Just a flurry here and there at first, but as I put my car in park, big floofy flakes started to fall. We have more in store for this week! A nice welcome "home". I catch myself when referring to this as home. I grew up here. Lived in this state for 24 years and one week (minus one summer). But looking around at all the changes, it's no more home than any other place, really. I suppose it always will be home, even if only home to my memories. Which grow fonder with time. It really was a good place to grow up.

Stuck in Chicago

So I'm currently stuck at O'Hare. Not the most exciting airport in which to be stuck, either. "Flight rescheduled due to air-traffic control"...

Now, one could argue that I would make good use of my time by grading exams, but that really involves spreading out papers across surfaces and there just isn't that much table space around here. But there is wi-fi (albeit not free - but cheap). So blogging it is! I'll save my book for the jet.

The people-watching has been fun. Normally, I'd be up for browsing booksellers or grabbing some ice cream, but I'm particularly tired, so slogging my exam-laden backpack up and down the terminal concourses just doesn't hold much appeal today. I'm on United, which isn't my preferred airline, but it does have one significant benefit: Channel 9. The air-traffic control broadcast to the seats in back. My next segment is a regional jet, which won't have it, but I got to listen to ATC on the Airbus. Glimpses into otherwise unseen worlds like that are fascinating. Kind of like factory tours - you get to see how it all happens. The arrivals controllers talk pretty much nonstop, carefully arranging their ballet of aircraft. I think it would be an interesting job, but I don't know if I could do it.

We had rain at home, but we took off just before sunrise and had sun the whole way, but icy grey stratocumulus clouds between us and earth. I was reminded of one thing that I loved about flying out of Monterey. Invariably, the airport would have a blanket of stratus over it. But the stratus layer is usually thin, and once you get through a few seconds of grey after take-off, you pop out of the clouds into a brilliantly sunny sky, with a cottony blanket of cloud below, snuggled up against mountain peaks that rim the bay. I was always a slightly nervous flier out of that airport (probably because of all the turboprop aircraft - not a fan of those), but I that particular moment always made up for the white knuckles.

I should go grab some lunch and wander on down to the gate. Wintergreen candy canes and Barnaby's pizza await my arrival.

...trim the occupant with floof...

Five Popular (Possibly Irreverent) Christmassy Tunes
Christmas Wrapping, The Waitresses
Trim up the Tree, from How the Grinch Stole Christmas (the original - not that Jim Carrey crap)
Last Christmas, Wham!
Twelve Days of Christmas, The Muppets
Fairytale of New York, The Pogues

...and the whole world send back the song...

Five Christmas Songs Toward Which I Was Ambivalent Until I Heard These Versions
God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, Jars of Clay
It Came Upon A Midnight Clear, Caedmon's Call
Do You Hear What I Hear?, Third Day
In the Bleak Midwinter, Paul Colman Trio
Silent Night, Sarah McLachlan

...oh the love must have been overwhelming...

Five Contemporary Christmas Songs
2000 Decembers Ago, Joy Williams1
Christmas Song, Dave Matthews
Mary Did You Know?, Gaither Vocal Band
Light of the Stable, Selah
Welcome to Our World, Chris Rice


1 This is such a fantastic song, I can't even begin to describe it.

...fall on your knees...

I love Christmas. Absolutely love it. No, I love the entire month of December and the run-up to Christmas. I will blog later (during/after finals, likely) about specifics, but it's such a holiday of possibility, of hope, of beauty, and of love. What's not to like? Well, this.

But beyond that, I very much enjoy Christmas music. So, since I just participated in our school's Christmas musical production this past weekend, I've been listening to Christmas music since mid-November, and also since I'm so far behind in grading I must be ahead, I present a few days of Christmas lists - but not the kind you check twice.


Five Favorite Classic Christmas Carols: 2007
The first two never change. The remaining three selections vary from year to year.
O Come O Come Emmanuel1
O Holy Night
Noel Nouvelet (Sing We Noel)2
The First Noel
[tie] Bring a Torch, Jeannette, Isabella
[tie] Carol of the Bells



1 I highly recommend listening to the version by Chasing Furies.
2 I highly recommend listening to the version by Apollo's Fire.

Black Friday

In the spirit of crass hypercommercialization that is The Day After Thanksgiving, I present...


My Holiday Wishlist!

Letters and writings from friends. Always number one on my list. :)

Levenger broad-nib fountain pen in Frost.

Levenger bottled ink. Since they don't have blue-black, Bahama Blue and Amethyst will do.

Plain 3x5" index cards.

It's not a moratorium if other people buy me dishes. Large plates, small plates, and cup/saucers.

16 GB iPod Touch. Hey, it's a wishlist, right?

CHI Straightening Iron.

Plumeria. The white/yellow variety is my favorite, but I'd take a start of any color.

Chaco sandals in Sundae, size 9. Or maybe 10.

Beautiful, completely fanciful black heels. Size 10.

Red! Size 9.5. Maybe 10.

Airplane lamp.

Airplane cake pan.

Electronic picture frame.

A take-no-prisoners pepper mill.

Baritone wind chimes.

Table Topics - Teen and Book Club editions.

True Colors game. A friend had this in high school, and it was quite fun.

A really good New Zealand travel book. None of that Fodor's crap. If only these people wrote for destinations outside Hawaii...

Bath stuff from LUSH: Creamy Candy Bubble Bars, Snow Fairy Shower gel, Youki-Hi Bath Bombs.

Sephora gift cards so I can buy sparkly stuff. Specifically, Nars eyeshadows in Caravaggio and Rated R.

Albums I don't know why I don't own - even just ripped mp3s:
Paul Simon, Surprise
Paul Simon, Graceland
Poi Dog Pondering, Liquid White Light
Smalltown Poets, Listen Closely, Third Verse, and It's Later Than It's Ever Been
The Sundays, Reading Writing and Arithmetic
U2, Rattle & Hum

Plenty of books and such on my Amazon wishlist. Specifically, this book.

A Liveblogged Thanksgiving

Time to cook! Wheeee! Since I have the laptop in the kitchen with recipes, why not blog?

828a Someone got donuts this morning. Sweet.

835a Pies are in the oven.

Mom's Maple-Pecan Pie
1/2 c. sugar
2 T. butter
2 T. flour
3 eggs, beaten
1 1/4 c. corn syrup
1 t. vanilla
1 c. pecans (I usually over-pecan)
1/2 t. Mapleine

Cream together sugar and butter, stir in flour, then eggs. Add corn syrup, vanilla, and Mapleine. Pour into unbaked pie shell. Top with pecans.

Bake at 400 degF for 15 min, then reduce heat to 350 degF and bake 30 min more, or until done.

917a Making dough for dinner rolls. These and these, which I haven't tried before. I'm using my bread machine to mix one recipe of dough, and my Select button is acting hinky again, which is the problem of the last one I had. So I gotta call the warranty folks again. Grrrr...

943a Rolls are rising. I love wireless internet. Computing in the kitchen.

1015a Punching down dough.

1036a Bread for stuffing is toasted. I never liked stuffing - especially crap cooked inside the bird. Ew. I just don't like that texture of soggy bread - stuffing, bread pudding, centers of French toast. Yuck. But the stuff that I make, it's more like vegetables and apples baked with bread cubes - pretty dry, really. I'll post the recipe later.

1048a Wheat rolls have been coiled into muffin cups and are rising. Oat rolls have been rolled into balls, brushed with egg wash and sprinkled with more oats. All are rising. These wheat rolls are majorly fluffy. They rise like mad. I don't think my little muffin cups are going to contain them...

1139a Turkey breasts are de-brined, buttered, herbed, and in the oven. So are the gargantuan wheat rolls. Turns out two roll recipes were overkill.

1230p Taking a break!

110p Potatoes are chopped and boiling (well, almost), and stuffing apples, celery, garlic, and onions are simmering in chicken stock:

Dressing with Roasted Garlic and Apples
1 c. onion, diced
1 c. celery, diced
1 c. Granny Smith apples, diced
1/4 c. shallots, minced
2 T. butter
2 c. hearty chicken stock
2 T. roasted garlic puree
1/2 t. fresh thyme, chopped
1 T. fresh chives, chopped
1 T. fresh basil, chopped
4+ c. diced bread croutons, toasted (I use honey wheat berry bread)

In a large skillet, saute onions, celery, apples, and shallots over medium heat in butter until tender. Add stock and simmer until liquid is reduced by half. Add garlic and herbs. Stir in croutons. Serve immediately, though I like to pile into a baking dish and bake (350 degF) until crunchy.

138p Plates set out. Now just waiting for stuffing and bird in oven. Corn pudding is out, green bean casserole about to go in. Potatoes boiling on the stovetop. The cranberry sauce is out of the can. Wine. I need wine.

218p Everything is ready to go - turkey is impeccably juicy. Primo. Just waiting for the pan juices to come to a boil so I can make gravy for the gravy-eaters. The Gravy Eaters. Sounds very Steinbeck. Or a Homer painting.


707p I don't know what was in that food, but we all zonked out after dinner. Well, apparently not all of us, because I woke up to find that pie had been had, plus all the dishes had been done and leftovers put away. It's a Thanksgiving miracle!

832p Mmmm - pie!

No. 100

Woo hoo! My 100th post. Seems like it should be more meaningful. Eh, not keeping with the spirit if I did.


Central Florida is such a study in contrasts. There's a lot of fake touristy crap, but there's a lot of real life, too. You just have to hunt a little harder for it. Yesterday, we spent the day doing real-life Florida attractions; today, we spent the day doing the touristy Disney thing.

Yesterday, we went to Lake Wales, south of Orlando. We drove Hwy 27 south, through citrus-country-turned-housing-developments. I bet it smells divine in March when the orange trees are in bloom. I'm quite convinced that if heaven has a scent, it's the smell of orange blossoms on a warm spring evening. It used to be the main pre-interstate artery of southbound migration. A major attraction of Lake Wales is Bok Sanctuary, a lovely preserve and gardens, the centerpiece of which is a carillon tower. With a resident carillonneur and twice-daily carillon concerts. We arrived in time for the 300p concert, and strolled the grounds during and after. The sun filtering through mossy oak trees in a grove was particularly lovely. Lake Wales is remarkably high, for Florida, the State of One Topographical Contour Line. There were some nice vistas from the gardens. Too bad you can't go up the tower - I'm sure the view is lovely. I took some pictures and will have them up online shortly. The visitor center had some interesting information about Mr. Bok and how he decided to put up a carillon tower in the middle of Florida, and we got to bang on a carillon bell - always fun. I was surprised to see that the bells and clavier are mechanical, not electronic. After our stroll around the gardens, we drove down to Spook Hill. Not so spooky. We put the car in neutral and rolled back "up" the hill, as per the directions. Woo. Of course, with a sign featuring such a benevolent-looking ghost, I guess I shouldn't have expected much in the way of spooky. Santa Cruz's Mystery Spot was far more interesting. Florida's Natural has a visitor's center on Hwy 27, but it's just a video tour, not an actual tour. It was getting late, so we passed it up. We also passed up "Goat Milk Fudge" and boiled peanuts.

Today we did Disney, a brave thing for the day before a holiday. I was expecting much larger crowds. It was busy, don't get me wrong, but it wasn't the crush-of-humanity for which I was braced. I try to avoid the public at all costs, but the Disney theme park crowd is far from "general public". That said, I've exhausted my quota of others' children. Admittedly, we were privy to only one nuclear meltdown, and only came across one band of disgraceful teenagers all day. But still... I've had my fill. There were loads of girls wearing princess costumes - very cute. And I wound up being the very object of my own personal vehemence: The Person Who Stops in the Middle of the Sidewalk. Seriously, I loathe these people. And my parents continually did it, forcing me into stopping, too. Mrmmf. We did a big mishmosh of rides and shows. I suppose the highlight of the day was our Jungle Cruise guide. That ride is wholly dependent upon the personality of the guide, and ours was nonstop witty, without being obnoxious. As a local, I always feel like an outsider, observing theme-park tourism from a distance. We don't deal with resorts or dining plans, and there is not a lot of pressure to do/see everything before flying back home. Not that it's a bad way to see the parks. It just seems like a vastly different experience from that of the average park-goer.

I feel like I had some more things to write about, earlier this afternoon, but they're gone. This is why I need to carry paper/pen around with me more often. I don't have the patience to text-message myself notes.

And today I am thankful for not traveling this Thanksgiving holiday. The weather in the Midwest is atrocious, which has to be bad for on-time departures tonight. Plus, as Jess and I discussed today, you have travel amateurs dragging down operations. You know the kind: people who haven't flown in the last ten years, don't know how to navigate the idiosyncrasies of the TSA, want to check three bags per person and carry on eight, and - heaven forfend - try to carry on a Walgreens worth of liquid, gels, and creams. Not missing that at all.

I should get to bed. There is cooking to be done tomorrow! I can't wait to take my kitchen for a serious spin. If you're looking for a place to spend Thanksgiving, come on over - we'll have plenty of good eats.

Legacy Teaching

One more post this week about teaching, and then it's Thanksgiving Break! A moratorium on educational topics is in place until next week.

I joke over there --------------> that I'm not a teacher, I just play one. And I really do think that. I never went to school with the express intent of becoming a teacher, so I picked up much of my training in teaching high school while I was in high school - I just wasn't cognizant of it at the time. I notice that I parrot a lot of my former teachers. I assign similar projects as I was assigned in high school chemistry. I've even said the same phrases as my senior-year-physics and multiple-year-social-studies teachers. I sense my favorite history teachers and professors, in my own classroom energy and management. I see my French and English teachers in me, too, particularly when it comes to compassion and individual attention. I heard a clip on NPR a couple weeks ago (I think - I can't find evidence of this anywhere online), in which the commentator said that he learned to be a waiter by pretending to be a waiter. That resonates - I think I learned to teach by pretending to be a teacher. Having had no formal teacher training, I model my teacherly behavior after my own teachers.

Of course, I'm already extrapolating this forward. Who are the future teachers sitting in my classroom? What are they picking up from me now that they will pass onto their students ten or twenty years from now? I already feel the burden of representing science to my students; they will form opinions of science in my classroom that will affect how they view science for the rest of their lives. But this newfound responsibility towards the future students of my own students - I'm constantly amazed at what is entrusted to me.


It's that time of year - Thanksgiving break is upon us and Christmas will follow closely. While I was an undergrad, I would occasionally stop in to see my teachers when I was home for university holidays. Even as recently as last Christmas, I visited the few remaining teachers at my old high school. Now I am the teacher being visited by former students. I gained incredible respect for my own teachers throughout my first year of teaching, but to have their perspective on these pleasantries, too... this novelty has not worn off! Of course, in this facebook age, it's remarkably easy to keep in touch with former students, and I think our school fosters a very different kind of relationship and involvement in students' lives than I experienced in school. Very much for the better. Anyhow, a friend and I were discussing yesterday our lack of friends who just drop by. Granted, my friend base is a 45-minute drive away, so a dropping-by requires a trip. Anyhow, my point is that I love it. So, if you're in town for the holidays, drop by! Your teachers would love to see you again.

Untitled

All right, what is going on here?

I spent an evening this week on and around a large university campus. And again, as my weekend at Purdue last month inspired, I felt this relentless and inexorable pull towards college.

What do I do with this? Do I write it off as reminiscent of past times and move on with my life? Is it a product of my interactions with college-bound seniors? Do I indulge it and seriously consider going back to school full-time? And even if I did, what would I study? Beyond that, what is my end-game? This has provided a lot of material for my favorite game of "What If..."

I can't be a professional student - I have to have a reason. I know I do not want an education degree. Not that I wouldn't want to continue working in education, I just have zero - nay, negative - desire to take any more education courses. Would I eventually want to teach in college? Some of my students and colleagues would say yes. But I'm not so sure. Like a quotation previously posted, I really think my job as a teacher of teenagers is to get inside their lives and help shape them. Would I have these opportunities as a professor? Maybe. They'd definitely be different. I have a lot of liberties in terms of creativity and a wide variety of disciplines; I think I would lose these at a university, where I would be hyper-specialized. Do I take an evening class here or there? As if I even have time for that. But maybe it would get it out of my system!

Food science? Art history? Pharmacy? Chemistry? A PhD? Another Masters?

I am officially too old to be having a quarter-life crisis.

Hm. You know, that was just a flippant comment, but after reading one selection from that link, I now have to wonder. The frustration with a lack of feedback and progress indicators does hit a little closely...

Furthermore, a factor contributing to quarter-life crisis may be the difficulty in adapting to a workplace environment. In college, professors' expectations are clearly given and students receive frequent feedback on their performance in their courses. One progresses from year to year in the education system. In contrast, within a workplace environment, one may be, for some time, completely unaware of a boss's displeasure with one's performance, or of one's colleagues' dislike of one's personality. One does not automatically make progress. Office politics require interpersonal skills that are largely unnecessary for success in an educational setting. Emerging adults eventually learn these social skills, but this process – sometimes compared to learning another language – is often highly stressful.

No. I refuse to be the stuff of John Mayer songs or Broadway musicals. I just won't have it! I'm eight years out of college. I'm gainfully employed. I'm not questioning what I want to do with my life (well, okay, it does kind of sound that way...). It's not a restlessness, I don't think. I do have a significant sense of purpose - more so than I have ever had. Nor do I lack opportunity for self-directed learning - that is precisely what teaching provides, I'm just not the one writing the lab reports. Well, my term papers and lab reports are now just the prompts and the lab directions I write. I could psycho-diagnose this all night if I wanted to. And I don't. I just want to know what to do about this ceaseless flirtation by large research universities. Anyone?