Friday, January 31, 2025

Odds and Ends at the End of January

I have been grading for hours, but happily, I got the first essays from my online classes graded.  I feel a bit brain dead, so let me just capture some snippets from the past day or two that I want to remember.

--This is the kind of week that makes me wonder what I might accomplish if I wasn't trying to accomplish so much.  I've got a full-time teaching job, a part-time teaching job, a part-time pastor job, and my MDiv program.

--That said, I am coming up with interesting ideas.  My English 102 classes are looking at works by Susan Glaspell that have plots that rely on a knowledge of quilting, which no one has these days.  I woke up Tuesday morning thinking about a quilting bee that could be open to the whole school.  Yesterday, I sent out this e-mail:  

Dear English Colleagues,

My MWF 102 class meets in the same room for my 10:00 class and noon class.  I am planning a quilting bee as we begin discussing "A Jury of Her Peers" and "Trifles."  I'll set up quilts in 206 and since there's not an 11:00 class, I'll leave it set up.  The quilting bee will go from 10:00 until 1:00. 

My plan is to open this up to the whole campus as a drop in quilting bee.  There will be quilts to knot and quilts to quilt and small items that students can hand sew and take with them.  Students can experience quilting first hand and learn about the history of quilting—and my students will then be able to tie the experience to the literature in a way that might feel more real.

I'm thinking that I'll do this on Monday, March 24, but before I plan too much, I thought I'd run the idea by all of you to see if you know of anything else big happening on campus that day.  I like the idea of doing it in March, too, as a great Women's History Month project.

The quilts we'll knot will then go back to my local church quilt group that sends them to Lutheran World Relief, so we'll be quilting for fun, quilting for literature, and quilting for charity.  I'll also have information on Lutheran World Relief.

Does anyone see any huge issues that I've overlooked in my enthusiasm for fabric arts?

Thanks!
Kristin (B-A)

--I've been enjoying hot tea with a bit of warm milk and sometimes sugar.  I still drink coffee in the morning, but I often switch to milky tea. 

--I went to a bricks and mortar office supply store to buy paper and printer ink.  Not special paper--basic paper for printing out the occasional document and my weekly sermons.  Wow--paper has really increased in price since the last time I bought it.  I got a special deal:  2 reams for $16.  Wow.

--Here we are at the last day of the month.  Let me check in on my 2025 goals:

     --I have done a bit of strength training for 20 days this month.  It may not have always been 10               minutes each time, but I came close.

     --I did a lot more poetry writing.  I finished 7 poems, along with a lot of shorter pieces in my                   sketchbook which I'm not sure how to count (5 of them).

    --I've worked on sketching hands and faces.  I'm impressed with what I can do if I pay attention.            Hands are still harder for me than faces.

Thursday, January 30, 2025

First Funeral of a Parishioner

Yesterday, after I finished banana bread baking and sermon writing, we got in the car and headed across the mountain to Faith Evangelical Lutheran in Bristol, Tennessee.  One of Faith's parishioners died last week, and his funeral was yesterday at 1:00.  I was happy that the family wanted me to preside and relieved that the funeral was at a time that was easy for me.

Let me stress that even if it had been at a time that wasn't easy for me, I would have done it.  The parishioner had been such an important part of the faith community, and his brother and sister-in-law are part of the congregation.  It felt important to be there.

The service was relatively short; we didn't have communion.  My sermon seemed well received.  The eulogy after my sermon was the perfect counterpoint.  I've only been part of the community for 18 months, so I didn't have the personal stories that were shared during the eulogy.  I did the theological stuff that needs to be done, the assertion that we are resurrection people and death doesn't have the final word (to read the sermon, go here).  But I wouldn't be surprised or hurt if the eulogy gave people more comfort.

As we got in the cars to go to the cemetary, I thought, this is what the Church does well:  comforting the grieving.  I know that many people would say that it's not enough, that the Church needs to be on the front lines confronting the federal government, and that may be true.  But there are plenty of activists of all types who do that job better than the Church.

I was struck by how many motorists stopped or pulled to the side of the road as the procession went by.  I was touched by that measure of respect and happy that it still exists in the world.  We live in a world that seems increasingly angry and cruel.  None of that world was on display yesterday.

We returned to the church where church members had prepared an amazing meal:  roast beef at a carving station, salad, potatoes au gratin, and several desserts--all delicious.  We are lucky to have a member who had a past life as a chef, and he took charge of the meal.  We ate around 3, which seems a perfect way to minister to the family.  They could eat a lot or a little, and it meant that they didn't need to think about preparing a meal later.

We headed back across the mountains to our home in Arden.  I had a few bites of cheese and a glass of wine while doing my reading for seminary class tonight.  I went to bed early.  Of course, most nights I go to bed early, but last night I felt a level of tiredness that's unusual for me, a depletion of my reserves.  It was good to be able to crash.

I am feeling a bit discombobulated this morning, even as I am more rested.  I have the "What day is it?" feeling.  Happily, today is an easy teaching day, and my seminary class tonight is wonderful (as is my Monday class--I am so lucky!).  And tomorrow, it's Friday again.  It's a week-end with a lot to get done, but it will be good to have a bit of extra time.

Wednesday, January 29, 2025

Banana Bread Baking

This week is another unusual one, with unexpected schedule changes.  So far, every week this semester has had unexpected schedule changes, so by now, I just expect changes, even though I'm not sure what will trigger the changes.

Today's change is a funeral at Faith Lutheran in Bristol, TN.  A beloved parishioner died, so we will go up for the 1:00 funeral.  Happily, before I realized we would have this disruption, I had scheduled library orientations and research in the library days for my English 102 classes.  I don't really need to be there, although I realize my students might take it more seriously if I'm there.  

Last night I looked at the bananas on the counter.  On Saturday, I bought a paper bag of bananas that were on sale; periodically, the produce dep't of the grocery store bags up bananas that are past their prime, and it's a heck of a deal.  On Saturday, I got over 20 bananas for $1.99, and I bought the bag because the bananas in the bag looked better than the ones that were at regular price.

Of course, that left me with a lot of bananas.   So last night, I decided to bake banana bread and take some loaves with me today.  Instead of flowers, I'll bring banana bread!  This recipe from the King Arthur baking site is remarkably easy.

I really enjoyed the process--I knew that I would make the recipe numerous times, so I had stations:  banana blending, wet ingredients, dry ingredients, loading the pans.  It worked really well.  I still can't imagine doing it on a larger scale, a bakery scale.

I had a lot of bananas, so now I have a lot of banana bread.  So I'm glad that I could taste the bread.  It's tasty, not overwhelmingly banana-y.  I didn't put any of the add-ins, like walnuts, that would make it even better.  Since I'm making it for other people, I wanted to make it appealing to as many people as possible.  I realize that people with gluten sensitivity will need to avoid my bread, but people with nut allergies can enjoy it if I don't put nuts in it.

Let me turn my attention to my homily for today's sermon.  It's a different kind of sermon, but I have an idea which I think will work.  Let me get it into manageable shape.

Tuesday, January 28, 2025

Watching "Little House on the Prairie" at 3 a.m.

It's been a long several days in our household.  My spouse goes in for a colonoscopy this morning, and instead of just having a 24 hour getting ready process, it has stretched over 3 days, with increasing food restrictions and increasingly effective laxatives.  He got up at 2 for the last dose of prep liquid, and I had trouble falling back asleep, so I got up too.

He was watching an episode of Little House on the Prairie, so I made some tea and joined him.  For over a year, I've been noticing that if that show is on, it sucks me right in.  One time I was at a car repair place, the only one in the waiting room, and the show was on.  It was an episode about a blizzard and people who needed to be rescued out there on that prairie and fear of dwindling resources.  The car passed its safety inspection, and I was tempted to stay, just to see how it ended.

Of course, I knew how it ended.  One of the appeals of the show is that there is always a happy ending.  It was made back in the 70's, made to be a family show, and the people who made it took their task seriously.  At the time, I remember being miffed (as a child viewer, mind you) that the TV show created new plot lines that weren't in the book.  As an adult, I am in awe of how they stayed true to the spirit of the books--and in fact, elevated the themes and spirit.

Little House on the Prairie is one of the rare TV shows that came into being because of the reading habits of girls.   I did some "researching" to see if I was remembering correctly.  Sure enough, various entertainment executives noticed their daughters reading the books over and over again, moms reading the books too, and they took note.  The fact that family members read the books may have helped the creators stay true to the books.

I say creators, but in my reading this morning, I discovered how deeply Michael Landon was involved in the creation of the series, down to researching every day life during the time period for pioneers.  There's a reason why the show looks so authentic.

I suspect the interpersonal relationships are not realistic depictions of life on the frontier.  The care and compassion, particularly for children, are much more 1970's than 1870's.  For that matter, the level of care and compassion for all the characters is much more 1970's than 2020's.

I feel this aching sadness for the society I thought we were building in the 1970's based on this TV show.  I also laugh at myself, since other TV shows of the same time period, shows not made for the whole family, show we were headed towards something different.  And here we are, in the 2020's, in a society that's different yet again.

Monday, January 27, 2025

Weaning Myself Away from Amazon

I just bought three poetry books from the University of Pittsburgh Press instead of Amazon.  I expected the shipping cost to make me change my mind, but it didn't.  I want to read more poetry and support poets and presses of all sizes, and it seems that buying from the press directly makes sense.

In the interest of transparency, I decided not to buy a book from Norton when the shipping cost was more than the book.  And I always check my local library--I know that checking out books might keep them from being culled from library holdings.

In further interest of transparency, if Amazon had offered deeply discounted books, I might have bought from Amazon.  But more and more, Amazon irritates me, especially in their delivery times.  Almost always in the past 6 months, when I place an order, having been told it would be here the next day, it's not.  I wouldn't mind a longer delivery time if I was told up front.

Since the great dish soap debacle (go to this blog post to read more), I have been much more careful about what I order from Amazon.  I thought I was ordering dish soap made by Proctor and Gamble, only to have an imperfect copy made by Joysoap.com arrive--and then it arrived damaged.  I have yet to find a good dish soap to wash dishes by hand.

So, I'm suspicious and on the lookout for deceptive trade practices, which means I won't order anything that goes on or in our bodies from Amazon.  I'm not happy about the cheap junk from China that often arrives.  I would like cheaper prices, but I know what those cheap prices are doing to the planet.  I worry about the types of merchants I'm supporting when I buy products on Amazon.  I try to make sure I'm buying from known companies, only to have weird substitutions.

Of course, with our current president, all protections are likely going out the window.  Sigh.  Perhaps more than ever, it's good to support smaller venues of manufacturing.

Sunday, January 26, 2025

Poem Made of Abandoned Lines

This morning, I decided to play with lines from rough drafts that I abandoned, never turning them into finished drafts.  I opened documents going back to May, and assembled these lines (feel free to play too):


I leave the key
To unlock the code in my sewing
Basket.

A monastery in the desert, too far
For the maniacal


We all comment on the coldness
Of this winter.

I am tired of tethers,


We saw the signs early


a summer
Of sorbet and lemonade.


Walking by flashlight, startled
By my bear shaped shadow.


the wolf
At the door in the form of a hurricane


In a time of trouble, she knits
Socks of all sizes.

--------------

After an hour or two of tinkering and internet meandering, here's what I came up with.  I have no idea how I feel about the poem itself, but the process of creating it was immensely satisfying.   It is not autobiographical--I've had no biopsy, I can't scramble up rock faces, I prefer crocheting to knitting while my grandmother preferred embroidery, I don't think I should have been making plans to move.  The bit about being startled by my shadow, thinking it might be a bear as I walked in the dark with a flashlight--that part is true.


After a summer of sorbet and lemonade,
I tire of my own frivolity. I am the grasshopper,
not the ant.  I have made ice cream
when I should have been earning 
money and making plans to move.

The wolf at the door
in the form of a hurricane 
or a biopsy or election results.
I dream of a monastery in the desert, far
from the maniacal.

I saw the sign early,
walking by flashlight, startled 
by my bear shaped shadow.
In the summer, I scrambled up the rock face
to gather berries.  In the fall,
I fight the urge to hibernate.

We will comment on the coldness 
of this winter.  I struggle
to stay awake.  In my sewing
basket, a small ball of yarn.

I think of my grandmother 
who knitted socks of all sizes,
her form of resistance.
I prefer scarves.  I have always chosen
long lines: poetry or code or check out line,
a chain to connect us all.


Saturday, January 25, 2025

Report on a Week that Had an Inauguration, a Snow Day, and a Return to Seminary Classes

I had planned to go to the grocery store yesterday.  But when I left the house, I didn't realize that Trump had planned a trip to Asheville yesterday.  I decided to avoid Airport Road, since his plane would be landing at the Asheville Airport, just a few miles from my house.  I was surprised to find that traffic was so backed up on the other major road, Highway 25, that takes me to my house.  Happily, it was backed up in the way opposite to mine.  I decided not to try to get to the grocery store.  I knew we had plenty of provisions.

Once I got to the house, I changed clothes and went for a walk.  It wasn't too cold, almost 40 degrees, which seems balmy this winter.  More importantly, the winds were calm.  I had a great walk, with a stop in the weight room.

It was a quiet evening:  some reading, some television watching, an early bedtime.  This morning I was up very early, working on poems, sending out some submissions, writing in my offline journal.

It's been such a strange week.  It seems like weeks or months ago that the inauguration happened, but it was only on Monday.  Such a flurry of activity.  I am glad that I don't work for a government agency or a group that reports to a government agency or a larger school.  I have heard from various sources about the confusion that comes in the wake of all of the declarations and orders of the new administration.  Ugh.

We had our second snow day of the semester--for a school in South Carolina!  Two snow days in three weeks.  Amazing.

I continue to be very happy in my teaching.  This week I finished my self-evaluation that each faculty member is required to submit, and I feel good about what I've accomplished.  The publishing part of my evaluation is fairly empty, so in the coming year, I'll work on that.

I am finishing an MDiv, so I'm hoping that fact will counteract my lack of publications.  This semester will be my last semester, and my Thursday night class that I'm taking is fantastic so far.  We're looking at Christmas and Easter together, taking out the middle to see how the beginning and the end of the Christ story inform each other. 

Let me get to the grocery store this morning and get stocked up for the week-end.  It feels like the calm before any number of storms--but we're not expecting snow this week, so that's something.

Thursday, January 23, 2025

A Sermon to Emulate

All yesterday, I heard much talk about Bishop Budde's sermon at the worship Service of Prayer for the Nation, which was held at the National Cathedral. This morning, I decided to watch the whole sermon, not just the last few minutes which have gotten such attention, when she spoke directly to the incoming president, urging compassion to persecuted groups, like people here illegally and gay, lesbian, and trans children.

Bishop Budde is the Episcopal Bishop of the Archdiocese of Washington D.C., so it is no surprise that she knows how to craft a sermon.  I watched parts of the service that came before it:  an hour of gathering music (diverse selections), a wide variety of worship leaders and readers, that beautiful cathedral.  The whole service, 2 hours and 18 minutes, is here; the sermon itself is here; you can read the transcript here.

I then watched Bishop Budde's conversation with Rachel Maddow which was a different kind of conversation than I was expecting; you can watch it here.  They were both very thoughtful about what it means to give a sermon, that it's a different kind of speech than the kinds of speeches that usually flood our airwaves.  Bishop Budde talked about the need for compassion, and the tone of the ending of the sermon, about how compassion needs to be manifest in a given time.  I didn't think the tone was particularly angry or confrontational, particularly not in the context of the whole sermon.  

There was discussion of her courage, which she shrugged off.  Bishop Budde pointed out that the worship service that happens with each inauguration usually includes a direct address to the president, so what she did was not so unusual.  And those of us paying attention have seen her bravery before, in June of 2020, when she spoke out in the wake of the murder of George Floyd when President Trump talked about sending the U.S. military out to quell protests.

I remembered that Diane Rehm had an interview with Bishop Budde, so I sought it out.  They discussed Bishop Budde's book, How We Learn to Be Brave.  This interview gave me such happiness and left me feeling nourished in all sorts of ways.  You can listen/watch here.

This week's Gospel, Luke 4:14-21, has Jesus giving a sermon of sorts, and I need to start writing my own sermon for Sunday.  It's been a week of sermons and prayers, not just Bishop Budde's.  It's interesting to consider those, in light of all of the readings for Sunday.  I look forward to seeing how all of these streams converge.

Wednesday, January 22, 2025

Snow Day in Reverse

When I've thought about weather and commuting, I've always thought that the winter weather would be at my house in the mountains and that people in South Carolina would find it hard to believe that I couldn't drive through the snow.  But today, there is enough snow in Spartanburg that my teaching day has moved to remote, while at my house, we've had no real snow.

Of course, I had been watching the winter storm approach.  It wasn't supposed to affect the upstate of South Carolina.  It was supposed to be the kind of odd storm that snowed on the coast but left the higher elevations of the state untouched.  The day was overcast but dry.

I was distracted by my dilated eyes, which made it hard for me to read anything.  But the good news is that my eyes are in fine shape--in fact, I think my eyes are healthier now than they have been in just about any other part of my life.  I am so impressed with the equipment at my eye doctor's office, and my gratitude about finding good medical care spills out to the rest of my life.

I had a great day teaching:  what a joy to talk about Louisa May Alcott and Little Women in my American Lit class.  I stayed on campus afterward for a Strategic Visioning meeting.  It was dry when the meeting started at 3, and when we left at 4:15, it was snowing.

In fact, it was snowing so much that I thought I might have miscalculated.  But the snow was the blowing, showery kind, not the icy, sticking-to-the-road kind, so I decided to see how far I could get.  There were moments driving north when I wondered if I was driving into a blizzard, and then I drove through it into moments of no snow at all.  By the time I got home, there were no more snowflakes that had been falling at 3:30 when my spouse texted me.  

By 6:45, Spartanburg Methodist College had decided to move to remote learning/work today.  I am fine with that; in fact, today's classes are easy to move to remote.  And because I don't have to commute, I can hop over to my local Lutheran church to do some quilting for Lutheran World Relief--hurrah!

Tuesday, January 21, 2025

Middle of the Night Vision

This morning I feel a bit scattered, with the knowledge that I soon need to get ready to go to the eye doctor for my yearly appointment.  Let me capture a few ideas here before they flitter away.

--Last night I woke up with the kind of middle of the night terror/anxiety that I associate with pandemics growing ever closer.  I did the thing I knew would not help:  I got out of bed and read some articles about the inauguration and the presidential activities around it, the presidential declarations.  

--I decided that I wasn't going to settle back to sleep with this reading, so I read about the fashion statements that people may or may not have been making.  I felt a vast sympathy for most everyone.  I like Melania Trump's severe looks, and I wish I could find a boater hat like that one; keeping one's eyes hidden seems like a good idea.  I saw the picture of Senator John Fetterman in his shorts and hoodie, in temperatures below zero, and I wondered if he has trouble finding pants that fit (a reason why you will often find me wearing shorts inside in the winter).  I have always assumed that men have no trouble finding pants that fit, but that may not be true.

--I saw a picture of an inaugural ball and wondered what happens if the couple doesn't dance well together?  Do they take dancing lessons for a few months before the inauguration?  I am not casting aspersions on any presidential or vice presidential couple, just thinking about my own inability to dance that way.

--I decided to try to go back to sleep.  I faced the window with its view of big trees and in the winter, the road beyond, with its lit signs.  As I laid down and stared out, all the lights went out.  I knew it was just a power outage, and sure enough, it was a momentary blip of darkness.  But still, for one brief moment, I thought, well, this is it then.

--I noticed that our bedroom clock was an hour and a half behind, and I wondered when that had happened.  Then I wondered if I had somehow reset the time on my watch, and it was actually the timepiece with the wrong time.  My poet brain tried to make metaphors, while the part of my brain that holds the various parts of my schedule in my head felt exhausted at the thought of getting up and getting to an eye appointment.

--And of course, my poet brain wants me to make a closing comment about vision and seeing clearly in times such as these.  My poet brain is also working on a poem about life lessons from medieval abbesses--stay tuned!

Monday, January 20, 2025

A Sermon and Poems for a Cold Inauguration Day and MLK Day

Here we are on a strange juxtaposition of a day:  the federal holiday to celebrate Martin Luther King and the inauguration of Trump to be president for 4 more years. Before I wrote yesterday's sermon, I thought about that juxtaposition, about those men and men like John the Baptist and Jesus, about what God promises and what politicians promise.  I particularly like the way I maintained a message of hope, especially at the end.

Through the wonders of modern technology, you can watch the sermon here on my YouTube channel.

It is a cold, cold morning, but so far, it's been a cold, cold winter.  Most nights, we have left a faucet  dripping, with a pot underneath to catch the water, because I am not wasting water.  I am so grateful that this winter, we have interior walls that are insulated, so that I don't have to hear the water dripping in the kitchen.

Well, I still hear it, but it's faint.  Last night I woke up and couldn't hear it, so I went to check.  I do not want to wake up to frozen pipes.

Last year, I remember walking in the chilliness of temps in the lower 40's and thinking, this isn't so bad.  This year, I'm telling myself that this may be one of the last cold winters we have.  Or, given the realities of life on a warming planet, we just don't know.

This morning I am thinking of life on a warming planet and the poem of mine, "Cassandra Volunteers at Summer Camp," up at "The Nature of Our Times: Poems on America’s Lands, Waters, Wildlife, and Other Natural Wonders" website. I wrote the poem in the last months of 2023, before Hurricane Helene, but it still holds up.   You can read it here.

I submitted the poem not knowing if all work was going to be posted in the online gallery, and I'm still not sure.  There will be a print volume later, and I am almost sure that not all of the poems in the gallery will be in the print version.  I'd be delighted if mine was chosen, of course, but I suspect that more people will read it in the online gallery than in the print version.

The project is put together by the same people who put together Dear Human on the Edge of Time:  Poems on Climate Change in the United States (go to this blog post for more information and to read the poem that was included).  That publication made me very happy, so I'm glad to be included again.

Saturday, January 18, 2025

Cycles of Chores, Cycles of Writing

It has felt like both a long week and a short week.  I thought I would have more time yesterday afternoon, the only week day afternoon where classes are done by 1:00, not 3:00 or 3:15.  But I came home and did grocery shopping on the way home after I filled up the car with gas.  Then I went back to the grocery store to get the things I forgot, taking the other car to fill it up with gas.

Did I get a special discount on gas?  Was that my motivation?  No--I wanted to fill up the cars while it was warm for a winter afternoon.  Bitterly cold weather is on the way, and I don't want to be holding a cold metal gas pump handle in my hand in a few days.

It's continued to be a satisfying week teaching literature classes and my nonfiction writing class.  I'm so glad to be able to do this.  I've done a bit of sketching in the evening, but it's still been a week of very early bedtimes.

Soon the cycle of endless grading will begin.  Perhaps that's why I've done more poetry writing, or maybe it's my 2025 goal inspiring me.  I've also made a few submission--that process, too, will get dropped as my schedule fills up with grading and work for seminary classes.

Occasionally I think about my book-length manuscripts.  I am not submitting those--that process is just too exhausting (and likely too expensive) to contemplate.  But I do think about new poems and old manuscripts, and the process of publication.  If a slew of new poems got published, how would they fit with the older poems if ever I wanted to put together a manuscript?

I think about how I once believed that an individual poem could change the world--I still do, but I think many other objects and activities have a better chance of changing the world.  I once believed that if a poem found its way into a published book, it had a better chance of surviving for future generations to see.  I no longer believe that.

It's interesting to think how the publishing world has changed, not only in my lifetime, but in the past 10 years.  That knowledge, too, shapes how I use my time, as I realize how little we know about publishing and the future.

But I do know that I never regret having written a poem, in the way that I have some regrets about money and time spent on pursuing publication.  Having said that, let me strategize about ways to get some poetry writing into this holiday week-end, since, happily, I no longer have grocery shopping to consider.

Friday, January 17, 2025

Writing Like Whitman, Writing Like Dickinson, Facing the Future

Yesterday I tried something very different in my survey of American Lit class.  Usually my approach is a mix of lecture (animated lecture, but me doing most/all of the talking) and class discussion.  In a writing class, I include more writing and a bit of small group work, but not in the 200 level survey classes.  I had already decided on an exam question which would require them to write 4 lines in the style of either Walt Whitman or Emily Dickinson, so after discussing them, I decided to seize the opportunity for a bit of small group work.

First, I had them do some pre-writing.  I gave them the following prompts:  Describe your favorite place on campus.  Describe your favorite relative's house.  Describe your least favorite place on campus (what is the worst bathroom?  What is the building most in need of a makeover?).  What are the three most interesting things you've learned since January 1?  Describe the weather since January 1.  Look outside these huge classroom windows and describe these trees in winter.  What does sadness smell like?  What is the sound of joy?

Then I asked them to decide if they would rather write like Whitman or like Dickinson--I divided them into small groups of 3-5 based on those answers.  The Whitman groups had to write 4 lines of poetry with 30-40 words per line.  The Dickinson groups had to write 4 lines of poetry using only 5-7 words per line.  The assignment:  write lines for a poem that would be called "Song of Spartanburg Methodist College." 

I gave them about 7 minutes, and then I went from group to group to read their efforts out loud.  I made minimal comments, one comment per group, complimentary--it's not a creative writing class after all.  I tried to make the tie back to the original poet:  "You've captured some of Dickinson's mysticism here."

They seemed to have fun doing it, and I think it was a unique way of talking about poem construction which might give them some insight into why each poet is different, yet important.

We spent the remaining class time talking about Booker T. Washington and W. E. B. Du Bois--a perfect segue to the Martin Luther King holiday on Monday.  I talked about how the thoughts of each led us to the ways we talk about race today, and about our U.S. history.  When we hear people talk about how slavery wasn't that bad, we can trace that back to Booker T. Washington.  When we hear activists talk about how the time for waiting is over and new action is needed, we see that call early on in the work of Du Bois.  As we talked about the men, I made connections to MLK and Malcolm X.  It felt like an important conversation (a conversation that was more lecture, but I am OK with that).

I don't know how many of them feel worried about the future, but I felt like I gave them reason to have hope as they face the future.  I talked about my favorite metaphor, the medieval cathedral builders, who are working on a project that won't be finished in their lifetimes, but they understood the importance of the work.  The nation moves towards a future where more people can flourish, and then we backslide, and then we try again.  

Thursday, January 16, 2025

A Week after the Snow

A week ago, I'd be eagerly awaiting snow scheduled for Friday.  A week later, I am eager for the remains of snow to go away.  I live in a neighborhood with lots of big trees and shade, which is usually a plus.  It does mean that we still have lots of snowy areas, which get slushy during the day, and then re-freeze at night.

I assume they are re-freezing.  Two days ago I went out for a morning walk, walked down the street for 2 houses, and then came right back.  I couldn't tell whether I was seeing black ice or pavement on the edges of the slick parts.  I've been doing my daily walking down in Spartanburg, on campus, around my teaching.  It's a good temporary solution, better than my other option which is walking on a treadmill.

I am assuming the snow will be mostly gone by the week-end.  Today and tomorrow, our highs climb into the 50's, and then there will be some rain to wash much of it away.  I'm most concerned with the roads being cleared so that I can walk.  Trail walking isn't part of my daily plan, so if the trails stay snow covered, that won't impact me.

Next time it snows, I should remember to pull out my snow boots earlier.  I missed at least one day of walking the day after the snow, when my boots would have made it possible.  Of course, I also did a longer walk on Friday, thinking I might be stuck inside for a day or two.

I made good use of the downtime of a snow day/week-end, with some hand sewing and hand quilting:


The placemats are reversible!


I bought the fabric during an excursion with some Quilt Camp friends to Beginnings Quilt Shop in Hendersonville.  I fell in love with the fabric, and thought about how well it would go with our design scheme as we've been re-making our Lutheridge house (right now, our only house).  At that point, we didn't have the kitchen table and weren't even sure we would have a kitchen table.  But once we got it, I floated the idea of placemats and table runners.

Wednesday, January 15, 2025

Two Factor Tech Jangles

I am trying to calm my jangled nervous system.  I am jangled because I got up early and was having a lovely morning, working on poems, making a submission, and then I made the mistake of trying to set up 2 factor identification for a school where I teach online classes.

I don't understand why it had to be so annoyingly difficult.  If you want to send a number to my cell phone, go ahead.  Why must I download apps and scan QR codes and try to figure out if I have the app or don't have the app.

I'm still not sure.  They seem to be on my phone, and they seem to be linked to my account.  Now I wait for IT to finish the set up, and then I can see if it's all working properly--and more important, that these apps aren't influencing any of my other accounts.

I'm jangled because the training video that showed us how to get this set up didn't coordinate to what I saw on my phone and computer--and I have a fairly recent phone and computer.  So I'm not sure what I've done exactly.  If I find myself locked out, I have a few days before papers are due in my online classes, but I really don't want to spend any more time on this.

I understand the reason for extra security.  I resent it, but I understand it.

I'm also jangled because I feel this shiver of the little old lady that I am becoming, the one who decides that all this technology means I just don't want to participate.  Am I approaching the end of my ability to be in the workforce because I don't want to be bothered with setting up all this stuff on my phone?

I know that people who live on their phones will find this unfathomable.  They download apps and conduct business and banking on that tiny screen.  I am always touching something that sends me somewhere else, and my fingers aren't that huge.  Sigh.

I'm willing to use technology, but I don't want it to be on my phone.  I have resigned myself to the fact that I need to carry my phone with me, but I don't like it.  I am tired of tethers.

Well, there's a first line of a poem--I am tired of tethers.  So maybe today's technology irritation was not a total waste.

Tuesday, January 14, 2025

The Energy of In Person Classes

I had a great teaching day yesterday:  three sections of English 102, three discussions of Antigone, the play by Sophocles.  Perhaps it was less discussion than me lecturing.  But lecturing sounds dry, and our time together was not dry.  For one thing, we had the opportunity to talk about Antigone's family, her father Oedipus, the psychological idea of an Oedipal complex, a concept that was very new (and shocking) to most of them.

There was an energy in the classroom, and I had forgotten how wonderful that energy can be.  When I taught English 102 at the same institution in Fall 2023, I never managed to manufacture that energy.  Of course, we didn't discuss Antigone.  

I mention that I taught three sections yesterday, because I had the same kind of energy in each of the classes, which is almost never possible, as I remember on-ground teaching.  There's usually 1 class that's a dud or one class that's much more high energy than the others.

I didn't have as many people talking/discussing, but they stayed alert and focused, and occasionally, offered an answer--and it wasn't the same person all the time.  In all three classes, this happened.

On Thursday, I had a similar experience in my American Lit survey class as we talked about The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.  But I only taught one section, so I thought that the high energy of Thursday might be limited to that class or just a one day phenomena,

I realize that it's early; the energy might be because we're in the first days of the term.  But frankly, as the years have gone on, I see less of that kind of energy, and last spring, none of that first week positive energy at all.

As I was walking to my car yesterday, marveling at the way the day unfolded, I laughed a bit at how surprised I am that the literature classes went so well.  After all, my first teaching love is literature; it's what I've been trained to do, and what I believe in passionately.  I teach English Composition in a way that allows me to be enthusiastic, but I'm not teaching English Composition because of my passionate devotion to the first year essay or research paper.

I feel so lucky to have a chance to do this again.  I don't know how long I'll be able to do it, which puts me in a feeling of even deeper gratitude.  And I've been teaching long enough to know that my classes may not always have this energy--another source of gratitude.

Monday, January 13, 2025

Snowy Paths, Poem Completions

A year ago, at the beginning of the semester, I thought I might need some snow boots, and when I saw a Land's End pair on sale for a deeply reduced price ($40), I went ahead and ordered them.  And then we had a fairly mild winter.  We only left our faucet dripping three or four nights which tells you that the nights were mostly above freezing.

Not so this year.  Yesterday, I pulled out those boots to go on a walk with a friend; it was the first time I wore them since trying them on when they arrived.  They feel more like running shoes on my feet, but they are much more waterproof, and they come up just above my ankles.

I wanted to get out for a walk, but I also wanted to gauge how the roads are doing--not the major roads, but my neighborhood roads that get me to the main roads.  I was able to walk fairly easily, although they are still snow covered.  I'm a bit worried about how they might have frozen overnight, but I will drive slowly and hope for the best, as I make my way to the main roads that will take me to Spartanburg Methodist College.  I will stay alert on bridges.

I have a 10:00 class, so I can leave at 8:30, which means I'll be able to see.  I realize that won't help me with black ice, but it will help me with other snowy/icy patches.  I hope that the interstate will be O.K.  My walking friend said the interstate was clear and dry when she made her way home from South Carolina on Saturday.

I will wear my boots to get to the car that's parked in our neighbor's paved driveway.  I'll take a pair of shoes to change into when I get to school.  I am taking the Rogue, in part because it's parked in a paved driveway, but also because it's got 4 new tires that were chosen for mountain travel in all sorts of weather.

I have been up for hours, with a lot of different kinds of anxiety, like traveling on roads that might be icy and generalized worry about the health of loved ones.  So I went ahead and got up.  I decided to work on a poem, instead of my usual pattern of doom scrolling.  

My 2025 goal of creating 52 finished poems is working really well as a motivator right now.  As I look back through my poetry files, I can see that I've done a good job of writing down fragments, and that even when it's been a month or two of lesser fragment generating, I do make my way back.  But actually getting a fragment to the finish line?  I have not been doing that.

My pattern for the last few years has been to write the fragment down, be unsure of where to go next, put it aside, and forget to return to it.  So far, my 2025 goal has kept me focused (I know, I know, it's only been 2 weeks, but I'm taking success where I find it).  I write a fragment and force myself to try to finish it on the same day or the next day.  

So far, I've finished 4 poems.  Are they publishable?  I have no idea--ask me in July when I've gotten some distance.

I've been able to stay focused because I made my goal 52 poems in a year, not one poem a week.  I can get ahead now, knowing that there will likely be times in the upcoming year when I won't be able to do as much poetry writing.

Even as I type that last sentence, I think of people who manage to write a poem a day regardless of what else might be happening.  My goal suddenly seems much wimpier. 

Sunday, January 12, 2025

Canceling Worship Service

If this was a normal Sunday, we'd be heading to Bristol, Tennessee by now, where I am the Synod Appointed Minister for Faith Lutheran.  But this morning, we've cancelled service.  Since we had bulletins and music prepared, I recommended that we do tomorrow's service a week later, on January 19.  The Baptism of Our Lord seems more important than the Wedding at Cana, the lectionary reading for Jan. 19. 

I spent part of yesterday morning looking at weather reports and special weather statements, and I was certain that canceling worship and Sunday School was wise--and I am still certain.  We've had a lot of snow and ice, and while many roads are passable, some would have frozen again overnight.  My spouse and I had decided that we would not make the trip across the mountains, regardless of whether or not the church decided to go ahead with worship.

But I also thought we should cancel so that everyone could stay home in good conscience.  I know that there are some folks in every church group who will be there if the doors are open, no matter how ill advised it is to travel.  We can help people stay safe by canceling activities.

And there's the issue of the parking lot and how to get it cleared in time for worship.  The forecast was for snow all of yesterday afternoon.  Most of our members are older and should not be out shoveling the parking lot on a Sunday morning, with temperatures under 20 degrees (it was forecast to be 7 degrees).

When the sun came out late Saturday, I felt a brief pang of guilt.  Even though I was sure that canceling worship and Sunday school was the right thing to do, I still wondered if we had made the right call.  Happily, I only let myself think that for a minute.  The facts were still the same, no matter how long we had sun yesterday afternoon when the temperature was still below freezing.   The roads would be bad, the parking lot would be covered in snow, and we needed to keep people safe.

I felt a bit better throughout the evening as I saw other churches at a variety of elevations make similar decisions, to cancel.  In the South, even in the mountains, we don't get many winter storms these days.  Last winter, Faith Lutheran only canceled worship once because of a winter storm, and they canceled for the same reasons we canceled today:  too much risk of slipping on ice.

And yet, there's still a part of me that feels a twinge of guilt, which I find interesting.  It's not like the roads cleared overnight.  It's the same twinge of guilt that makes me want to lace up my shoes and take a walk--the roads aren't clear yet, but I still need exercise.

Happily, I have gotten better at ignoring that voice that wants me to feel guilt.  And so I shall stay indoors a bit longer, give the roads a chance to get clear, and go for a walk this afternoon--and look forward to next week, when it will be safe to assemble as a congregation again.

Saturday, January 11, 2025

A Delightful Snow Day

We had a delightful snow day yesterday.  I will say from the beginning that one reason why it was delightful is that we didn't have to go anywhere.  I'm grateful that Spartanburg Methodist College moved to remote learning yesterday.

I thought it might start snowing earlier than it did.  I went to the grocery store early, even though we didn't need much.  We brought in some dry wood in for the fireplace, and the small heater that is approved for indoor use with butane, just in case the power went out.  I decided to take my walk earlyish, and I hoped that it would start snowing as I was walking.  But that didn't happen either.  I did a bit of remote work with students and course shells, and finally, the snow started falling.



It was the best kind of snow, the kind that falls gently, with no ice, the kind that doesn't take down electric lines or freeze the plumbing.  There were moments throughout the afternoon where I couldn't take my eyes away from the beautiful scenes outside.



Every so often, I walked outside to take a picture.  But I didn't want to linger too much.  I didn't want to spend the snow day in an emergency room because I slipped and broke my wrist.  Happily, it never seemed very slick.



As I was walking back to the house, I was struck by the color of the door and the evergreens growing just off our porch; the picture looks more vivid on my phone:




We made a pot of chili and a cast iron skillet of corn bread and watched a bit of TV.  It was a delightful day.  

This morning, I walked to the street to take another picture. 



We also measured the snow; we only got just over an inch.  I don't know what to expect at this point.  We won't have temperatures above freezing until Monday.  I am not planning to drive anywhere today.  Happily, I don't need to go anywhere.

I did decide that we won't try to make it over the mountain tomorrow for church at Faith Lutheran in Bristol, Tennessee.  I wrote to church leadership suggesting that we cancel activities, but it's up to them.  If they have worship, I'll send the sermon, but I'm recommending that we save everything for next Sunday.

Friday, January 10, 2025

Pre-Writing in the Upper Level Writing Class

I am writing at a different time today.  I rearranged my schedule, which had already been rearranged because of incoming winter weather.  I decided to go to the grocery store to try to get my quadruple fuel points.  I wanted to go early, to avoid the madness.

I needn't have worried.  There were about 5 people there besides me and the people who work there.  Of course, there wasn't as much food as there usually is--not an egg in the store.  But there was plenty of milk of all varieties, and a good supply of bread.  I was surprised to see most of the chicken gone, but not surprised that all of the types of meat that can make a good pot roast were gone.

The weather reports have been uncertain about when the wintry weather would arrive.  I decided that it made sense to walk before the roads got slippery, so I did that too.  I was hoping it would start snowing while I was walking, but that didn't happen.

I did want to write about the Nonfiction Writing class that I'm teaching.  I want to write down my various approaches, so that I remember them later.  I decided to start with personal essays and memoir type writings.  I wanted to spend a day or two doing pre-writing activities before we decided exactly which direction to go.  I drove to work thinking I would do the pre-writing experiment that I did with my English Composition students in the Fall (for more, see this blog post).

But then I decided that I really wanted to save that activity for Tuesday.  I thought it might make more sense to do some more general pre-writing.  I sketched out some ideas and headed off to class.

Let me first note how diverse my students are in how they are writing:  2 were writing on phones, one by hand with pen and paper, and one using a stylus on an iPad.  We did list making and free writing.  When I have students do free writing, I tell them that we'll start with a prompt, but they should feel free to go where their minds want to go.  The main rule is to keep writing:  don't go back, don't correct, don't stop.

We began by making lists of people and experiences that shaped us.  I had them make a list of the following:  your 3 most important friends, your 3 most important family members, the 3 classes you took in school, people you admire but didn't know, your 3 least favorite people, 3 least favorite family members, and people in the public eye who you didn't admire.  Then I had them choose 1 and write for 5 minutes.

Then we made similar lists to try to get at events that were important or life shaping:  events from school, events from work, events within the family, events in third spaces (like church, sports teams), and I also had them consider the arts and pop culture (a song that changed them or a movie that became a touchstone).  Once again, I had them choose one and write for 5 minutes.

I then shifted to having them write descriptions, using as many sensory details as possible.  First we began with a childhood home, which could be a grandparent's house or some other home, even if they didn't live in it.  I had them describe a place where they had stayed that wasn't their home, even if it wasn't vacation.  And then I had them describe the travel itself, even if it was simply the trip they take from the place where they sleep to the classroom.

Then we did a last pair of writing assignments that has often generated interesting material for me.  I had them write a letter to themselves from their pre-puberty self, the person they were when they were 7, 8, or 9 years old.  They wrote for 5 minutes.  And then they wrote a letter from their 80 year old self to the person they are right now, writing for 5 minutes.

We had a brief conversation about which pre-writing exercises seemed most fruitful, and then I encouraged them not to be too committed to any one approach or experience.  And now, we'll use the objects on Tuesday to see if they dredge up something new and unexpected.  And then, we'll figure out how to write a unified and interesting essay--at least, that's the goal.

So far, they have been delightful--involved and interested in doing the writing, which is not something I always experience in first year writing classes.  It should be this way:  I'm teaching an upper-level writing class, after all.  But I also know that not everyone takes these classes for the same reason.

And then I went to teach The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn to my American Lit class.  I didn't have them read it in advance:  it's much too long and difficult, and it's more important to know about it than it is to have read it.  I think it went well.  Students seemed engaged, even though they hadn't read the novel.

How interesting it is that so few students (2-3) have read the book.  Once upon a time, not too long ago, most students would have read it, either in middle or high school.  Now I suspect that very few people are reading books.

And now the snow has started, but it hasn't been as fast to make roads treacherous as I was expecting.  I'm still really glad that Spartanburg Methodist College cancelled classes.

Thursday, January 9, 2025

Fire in the West, Snow in the East, and a Mighty River in Between

In later years, will I wonder why I only paid attention to sea level rise and flooding as signs of impending doom?  Will I wonder why I didn't write more about fire?

Frankly, with the exception of the Hawaii fire, most of the fires that have captured national attention have seemed to explode in places that were remote and more like wilderness than city spaces.  But the fires that have exploded across the Los Angeles area seem a harbinger of something new.  There was no brush clearing that needed to happen.  There was no building in ill-advised areas.

I will confess that my attention has been captured by an impending winter storm much closer to home.  I am happy that Spartanburg Methodist College made the pre-emptive decision to move to remote learning tomorrow when the storm is expected to arrive.  The timing of the storm made it hard to decide exactly when to close, and so they are taking the safer course of action and having us all work from home.

Every time my school does something that shows a level of care for the people who work and study there, I am struck with sadness about how many places I've worked where there was no level of care and concern.  I think of how often I've reported to Florida schools, even when we were under tropical storm force conditions.  Oh, sure, we were told that we didn't have to come in, but it would be a vacation day or a day without pay.

I have spent the morning toggling between a variety of tasks:  work for my online classes that I teach at a different school, weather reports, news coverage of various apocalypses, and Huckleberry Finn (the novel, not the character).  Today in my American Lit class, we begin with that novel, and returning to it, I'm struck by how much it encapsulates various issues that American Lit and American history will grapple with, are still grappling with.

I plan to begin the class by asking how many of them have ever backpacked, camped out over night, went on a canoe or kayaak trip, headed west with no plan for where they were going (OK, maybe not this one).  I look forward to the conversations we'll have.  The energy in the room was good, and I think starting this way, by thinking about how we currently feel about spending time in the wilderness, might be a good entryway into the novel.

And then I'll come back here to my mountain house and bring some firewood inside, just in case the weather gets worse than expected tomorrow.

Wednesday, January 8, 2025

A Report on the First Day of Class

Yesterday was a good first day of class.  I met with the four students signed up for Nonfiction Writing, and they seem interested in writing.  You might say, "Of course they are--why else would they sign up for the class?"  And yet, we know that there are many reasons why they might have.  They are all interested in different kinds of nonfiction writing, which makes it an interesting challenge.

I also met with my Survey of American Lit class--it's the second half, which is my favorite half of American Lit.  I am assuming that most of them are taking the class because they need it to fill a Gen Ed kind of requirement.  Nonetheless, they, too, seemed enthusiastic.  

Of course, it's the first week, when we're all more likely to be enthusiastic.  For me, it's because there's still so much potential for classes to go well; I'm not beating myself up for all the ways classes don't go well, as I am prone to do in later weeks.  There's no grading yet.  I'm rested.

And this week, we have a potential snow day on Friday.  That, too, might have us all humming with excitement.

I had forgotten how much I enjoy the sophomore level literature survey class.  I love how my brain is making connections.  I love how it inspires my own creative writing.  I love that the students have often had some exposure to the lit and are ready for some deeper evaluations.

I've had some difficulty getting exercise in--each morning, I've thought, well, maybe the weather will be better when I return this afternoon.  I finally decided that I just need to do my walk in the morning, no matter how windy or cold or rainy it is.  So this morning, I bundled up, and off I went.  Parts of the walk were pleasant, and I did stop in the workout room at the Faith Center, so it wasn't as bad as it could be.  On the way back, with the wind blowing against me, I did wonder what I had learned long ago about frostbite and exposed skin.  And then I laughed at myself because it was 20 degrees outside, not below zero.  Of course, it was windy, so perhaps it's good that I broke up my walk with time inside the workout room.

And it's good to remember that I can use the treadmill and other aerobic machines that are in the workout room, if the weather does get worse and stay worse for a longer period of time.  Last year, we had a fairly mild winter with just one week of really cold weather.  Even during that week, I didn't feel in any danger of frostbite, although I did move my walk to later in the morning; back then, I only had to be in Spartanburg two days a week.

Let me get ready for the trip down the mountain for today's classes, which are English 102 classes, an extension of Composition, with learning about literature, and a research paper--fun in different ways and grueling in different ways.  But for today, for this first week, it's fun, not grueling.

Tuesday, January 7, 2025

Easing into Spring Semester

We've been under wind warnings for days now, and it does sound thumpy-bumpy-windy outside.  I can't decide if it's better to have daylight, so I can determine how windy it really is, or better to be in the literal dark.  Happily, weather forecasters expect the wind to subside in an hour or two, and I don't have to drive down to Spartanburg until later this morning.

Yesterday I drove down to Spartanburg for a day of faculty development and meetings.  I didn't anticipate the drive down to be as harrowing as it felt:  lots of rain, not much light, wind, big trucks, and at one point, just after the South Carolina border, I stared into the milky distance and wondered if I was driving toward snow.

In short, it was a good day to be inside, sharing good teaching ideas.  Here's the best idea I got from yesterday:  we played trivia at lunch, with each table a team.  We had an envelope of trivia questions, so each table had different questions.  When we got one right, we got to go to the white board and take an index card.  Each index card had a number of points on it, but we didn't know which card had which points (the side with the point value was facing the board, so the board had a variety of colored note cards but nothing written on them that we could see until we pulled the card off the board)--and we discovered that some of the cards had negative points.

I'm always on the lookout for classroom activities that can lead to some small group interactions, can have people getting up and moving around, can be learning disguised as fun.  Right now, this activity seems like one that most obviously would be used as review for an exam, but maybe I can make it applicable in other ways.

I went to other workshops that gave me lots of information, like about Microsoft tech stuff products, but it's less clear to me how to use that in a class.  Why would I use Teams if we're all there in the classroom?  But I do wonder if there's something I should be thinking about.  I don't want to be the little old lady who has been teaching for ages and refuses to use technology more advanced than a pen.

Let me remind myself, though, of how much technology I do us and have embraced, like the Learning Management Systems that I've used.  I do like having paper handouts instead of PowerPoints, and yesterday reminded me of why:  we got to campus to find that anything needing internet access to function (and these days, that's most technology) wasn't operating.

The sun came out as I drove home, but an hour or two later, snow was falling.  It wasn't a surprise:  the morning weather called for the possibility of snow flurries or snow showers in the evening.  It does not appear to have mounted to much accumulation, unlike the snow that fell to the north of us in many states.

Today I'll head down to Spartanburg for the first day of classes:  my Tuesday/Thursday schedule is much lighter than my MWF schedule so it will be nice to ease gently back into a teaching schedule.  My seminary classes start two weeks from now--so my entry into my full schedule will be gentle.

Monday, January 6, 2025

Epiphany 2025

I am one of those people who always checks the weather.  In part, it's because I want to make sure I'm dressed for whatever is coming, and in part, because I want to be prepared in other ways.  On Saturday, the church council president texted me to ask if I was concerned about the weather.  On Saturday, the weather service for Bristol, TN was forecasting the wintery mix to begin falling in the middle of the afternoon.  I thought we had plenty of time to clear out of town before that happened, and I wasn't too worried about travel across the mountains.  Plus I knew that the forecast for our side of the mountains didn't call for any moisture at all.

I had a great Sunday planned, and the energy in the church was wonderful.  The church was still decorated for Christmas, and during the children's sermon, I gave them each a fabric angel.  



We talked about how God speaks to us, through angel choirs and stars, and that the most important thing to remember is that if you hear a voice telling you that you're worthless, it's not God talking, but someone else.  If they remember nothing else from our time together, I hope they remember that one message that I bring up periodically.

Then I had the youth help pass out the Epiphany stars:


My sermon talked about our Christmas to Epiphany journey, how God spoke to people then and how God still speaks to people now.  I thought it went well.  You can view it for yourself and decide; it's posted here on my YouTube channel; you can also read a version in this post on my theology blog.

As we processed out to "Hark the Herald Angels Sing," I looked out the plate glass door to the church and realized it was snowing.  I wasn't really concerned, since it had just started.  



We had planned to take communion to a parishioner in the hospital on our way back, but I became more and more concerned about how rapidly the weather conditions were deteriorating.  So we decided to just keep pressing ahead.  We got onto I 81, and then I got really concerned about how the conditions were deteriorating, how much slush there was on the interstate, which had been treated with a de-icing agent, but was still slick in places, with icy rain/sleet/snow falling from the sky.

Happily, we were headed south, so even though we climbed in elevation to get across the mountain range, the wintry mix changed to rain.  We stopped at the welcome center on the NC/TN border to chip away at the ice that had formed on the windshield and wipers.  The whole front of the car was cased in ice, something neither one of us had ever seen before (and my spouse grew up in Indiana in the snowy 70's).

It took much longer than our usual commute home, but we made it home safely.  We made a stir fry and settled in to watch Street Gang:  How We Got to Sesame Street.  The documentary of the early days of Sesame Street was just what we needed for Epiphany Eve.  It was wonderful to be reminded of the magic that can happen when people are set free to experiment, to try something new, to see what happens.

And here we are, another Epiphany.  It makes me sad that for many people, this date will be associated with violent domestic attack on the U.S. Capitol, instead of a day of thinking about insights and new information.  Of course, the Epiphany story has always had a shadow side, a jealous ruler (Herod) and insecurity that leads to a bloodbath.

Today and every day, we would be wise to think of our own power, our own feelings of inadequacy, how we attempt to control the elements of our lives or how we don't.  We would be wise to think about all the strangers who show up to tell us of a different way, a different paradigm.  We would be wise to keep our eyes trained to larger vistas.

Saturday, January 4, 2025

Preparing for Epiphany

Some years in church, it's easier to work in Epiphany than other years.  Last year, New Year's Day was on a Sunday, which was a Lessons and Carols Sunday, which meant I could be away.  January 7, the following Sunday, was the Baptism of Our Lord Sunday.  But this year, the Feast Day of Epiphany (Jan. 6) falls on the day after Christmas II; if I had been in charge of the Lectionary, we'd be doing Epiphany tomorrow, instead of the first chapter of John.



Happily, I've thought of a way to make it all work.  I wanted to do a repeat of the Epiphany stars that I did for my Florida church in 2017, and happily, I thought of this possibility before it was too late.  I took advantage of some post-Christmas sales and bought some glittery cardstock.  I downloaded some templates.  I invited some neighborhood Create in Me friends over to play.  



I knew that I would be creating stars for Sunday, and it was fine with me if my friends helped or if they created Epiphany cards to give away.  We had a great time doing a mix of projects, and in the end, I got my stars done in record time.




I wrote words on the back of each one.  As we talked, words came to me, and I used them.  I want to believe it's the Holy Spirit at work, but it may be my own brain.  I had looked at some word lists, like this one, but in the end, I went my own way.



I will be suggesting that members of my congregation use them in a variety of ways.  They're portable, which means they could travel through the year, in a pocket, a backpack, or a car.  We could use the word to inform our reading through the year or to inform the way we view popular media or the news.  We could use the word and think about the variety of meanings, as well as the kind of meditating that we'd be doing if we had pulled a word that meant the opposite. 



But most important, I want us to use the stars to train ourselves to listen for what God might be saying.  We won't always have an angel choir or a John the Baptist yelling at us.  We live in increasing amounts of noise, and a star word might be what we need to focus our brains to look away from what the powers and principalities of our time want us to stay focused on, the stories that cause us to feel fear and pain and powerlessness.

Friday, January 3, 2025

Colonial Wreaths and Snippets from the Past Week

My blogging time grows short, so let me capture a few short snippets from the past week:

--We made a quick trip to Williamsburg, Virginia, where my mom and dad live.  It was a good family reunion time.



--Last year I wanted to see the wreaths at Colonial Williamsburg, and we got there just in time to see the last ones being taken down.  This year we had more success.  I was captivated by the wreaths (look at the horseshoe crab shell in the one above!), but not so much by the crowds.


--All of the colonial wreaths made me want to do more with wreaths using decorations collected in the yard.  Maybe next year.



--It was astonishingly warm for late December.  Our luck will not hold in that area--frigid cold is on the way, and I do not look forward to it.



--Yesterday we had a non-Wednesday quilting session with the local Lutheran church.  What a treat to assemble this way one more time before my schedule heats up!  We got a lot done.  I am most impressed with our getting one room of fabric sorted into bins by color.  Of course, there's a whole other room yet to sort.  



--Today, at least one friend is coming over to play with Epiphany crafting ideas.  I am making Epiphany stars for this Sunday.  Fun!

Thursday, January 2, 2025

The Work of the Syllabus Is Underway

I've been up for hours, but I've been working on the syllabus for my English 102 classes which start on Tuesday--Tuesday, gulp!  Actually my English 102 classes start Wednesday, but by Tuesday, I need to have all syllabi done for my in-person Spartanburg Methodist College classes and loaded into course shells.

I had been feeling this discontent as the morning progressed, and I took a moment to try to figure out why.  Were the readings a bit too traditional?  Maybe, but for this semester, I need literary works that won't need a lot of prep work from me; I want literary works that I've taught before.

I decided to try to move the research paper earlier into the schedule.  We'll do "Antigone," write about it, and then do the research essay, which I've divided into several writing assignments.  All of them will be done by early February, when students are still fresh-ish.  Saving all of this until the end was what was making me anxious.

What this approach sacrifices is letting students pursue a wider possibility of interests.  But I'm OK with that.  What I'm hoping to gain is to have fewer students crash and burn at the end of the semester when the research essay takes center stage in a traditional approach.

As I teach this class, I want to be alert for ways to make the class even stronger.  For example, I'd love to include a graphic novel, or a book about creating comics, but this term, I'll just let those kinds of ideas percolate.  I'll be sure to write down any ideas that sound promising.

For now, I must forge onward.  I've got an American Lit Survey syllabus to create.  I may wait to create a complete syllabus for my Nonfiction Writing class until after I meet with them on Tuesday.  There are only three of them, and it would be good to know what they would like to achieve this term.  Of course, they may be taking the class because of a lack of options.  There are only three of them, so we could do all kinds of interesting projects (go eat out together and write a review!  Create a graphic novel that explains a process!  write for the school's PR department!).

I love this time of the semester, before the work has gotten underway, when there's still so much possibility and hope!