Home Again after Weather Bogged Down Travels

I made it safely back home yesterday.  Yesterday was the kind of drive where a good chunk of it was done in driving rain mixed with some sleet, snow, and hail.  Many of the drivers zoomed on by me, which is fine, except that three of those drivers had a wreck further on down the road, which made the drive even longer.

It was the kind of weather day when I was almost grateful when traffic came to a stop, so that we could see the lines on the road and the cars around us.  By the time we got moving again, the rain was mostly over.

I thought I would be driving toward bad weather, but it was actually behind me:  my folks got a dusting of snow in Williamsburg yesterday, just 24 hours after we sat outside enjoying the balmy weather.

Today's post will be a short one.  We have eye doctor appointments, and happily, we are the first two appointments of the day.  It does mean that we need to be there at 8 a.m.  So let me get ready.

Mountain Bound after a Good Visit in Williamsburg

Today I have breakfast with my parents in Williamsburg and then head back to the mountains of North Carolina.  I'm not going through the highest elevations, but I might see some snow mixed with the rain that's expected today.  A big cold front is coming through, so I'm grateful not to be expecting tornadoes, particularly when I see the devastation from storms in the middle of the country yesterday.

I've been in Williamsburg visiting my parents, and it's been a good visit.  I'm lucky, in that my visits are always good visits, even ones like back in August, when I arrived to help when my mom suddenly developed life threatening pneumonia.  I'm grateful that my luck continues to hold.

We've done some shopping, picking up some end of winter bargains on clothes--and hey, I'll still get to wear them for the few weeks of winter temps that are likely ahead.  I picked up a pair of festive sandals for a wedding next week-end, along with a festive finishing garment.

We've had great meals.  One of my favorites was the soup supper at my parents' church, one of my church homes away from home.  We had a choice of three soups (corn chowder, vegetable with beef, and chili) and cornbread and sourdough bread.  I love these kinds of soup suppers, and I was glad to be able to be part.

We were there for soup supper because the church does a Lenten Wednesday evening program.  It was meditative and quiet.  We ended with the option to light a small candle from the Paschal candle and put it in the cross-shaped sandbox on a table in front of the Paschal candle.  I wanted to record it, because I liked how it looked.  Is it worth the extra effort to make a sandbox in a specific shape, instead of a big bowl of sand?  Perhaps.  It was lined with 2 layers of heavy plastic, not to protect the wood frame from the flame, but to keep the sand contained.

I didn't take any pictures because I didn't bring my phone to the church.  There wouldn't have been a good way to take pictures, and I wouldn't have wanted to destroy the meditative mood by taking pictures.

On the way home, we stopped at a soft serve ice cream place, the kind that has a small building with a walk-up window and some picnic tables in the parking lot.  It was wonderful to eat ice cream after church and enjoy the freakishly warm weather.

And now to head back, through unsettled weather--the price for a foretaste of summer.

What Time Is It? What Season Is It?

I'm one of those people who wish that we wouldn't turn clocks forward or back, even though I know that if we did that, we'd lose something in terms of darkness and light.  If we had fewer sunsets that came later or fewer sunrises that came earlier, but I don't think I would care.  For me, it doesn't matter if we spring forward or fall back, it takes me weeks to get back to a regular sleep schedule, as regular as my sleep schedule is.

This week, in addition to a time change, we've had a drastic change in the weather--it's been downright hot.  So my sweaty self thinks it's summer, while my light sensitive eyes read spring in the shift in light, while my body is still back in winter in its desire to go to bed early.

I had thought of this time away as having writing residency possibilities, at least in the morning, since I get up hours before my parents.  But instead, I'm tired.  I pulled up some poem rough drafts that I thought I could finish transforming into final drafts, but no, not this morning.  I need to write Sunday's sermon, and if I was really efficient, I'd also write the one for the following Sunday, when we'll be away at a family wedding.

I want to write something more profound as a blog post.  But it won't be this morning.

Happily, Rabbi Rachel Barenblat has written something more profound.  In this blog post, she writes eloquently about why she won't be using AI when she crafts sermons and other religious writing--or any writing:  "My divrei Torah and sermons are love letters, of a kind: they’re love letters to Torah, to God, to my tradition, to the communities I serve. They’re not just communicating information, they’re conveying heart. This may make me old-fashioned. (The fact that I’m still writing longform blog posts on my own blog may also be a sign that I”m old-fashioned!) But it is still my goal to communicate with others without AI mediation. It matters to me that what I share (here and on the bima) are always the words of my own mouth and the meditations of my own heart."

Today my mouth and heart are tired.  Here's hoping for a better day tomorrow.

Of Cars and Headlights and Petrochemicals and Politics

It was somewhat strange, traveling by car yesterday, hearing news of the latest developments of the war in Iran and beyond, wondering how much gas prices would have risen by the time I stopped to refuel.  Last week on Monday morning, gas was still $2.49, and it's hard for me to believe that gas stations sold all that gas before gas prices rose to $2.99 by the end of the day on Wednesday.  I would complain to someone about price gouging but who would listen, much less do anything?

I shouldn't complain:  I've long thought it odd that a gallon of milk costs more than a gallon of gas, since one is renewable and one is not.

As I drove through foggy parts of the mountain, I turned my headlights on and then tried to remember to turn them off again.  In the past, I wouldn't have bothered.  But on Sunday, we replaced both headlights, after a scary-ish time driving back from a pizza place after dark on Friday and realizing that both headlights weren't working.  

We just replaced them in September, so I was surprised not to have headlights on Friday night.  I drove with my brights on, and since many headlights seem to be on permanent brightness to me, I didn't worry overly much.  But that's not a workable solution.

We thought it might be a fuse, but both fuses looked good.  Since the bright lights were working, it didn't seem like a problem with the switch.  What else could it be but bulbs?  

So I bought two more, and my amazing spouse replaced them, and voila!  Hurrah for easy fixes.

I did see on the packaging the notice that a bulb will last for 200 hours.  It's an LED bulb, so I thought it would outlast the life left in the car, but no.  So, yesterday, I only had the lights on when needed.  In the past, I might have left them on until the next time I turned off the engine.

Even if we have to replace the bulbs every 6 months, that's still cheaper than buying a new car.  Over the week-end, my grad school friend and I talked about the delight of a new car, knowing that one won't have car repairs for the first few years.  But we also talked about the puzzlement of a new car--which one should we buy?  Could we find a simpler car, one that might be cheaper both to buy originally and to repair eventually?  Should we think about having some sort of electric/plug in capability?  A few years ago, I would have assumed yes, but now, who knows?

So yesterday, I drove my 2014 Toyota Prius, the subcompact size, through the mountains, across the Piedmont, on and on across North Carolina and then Virginia.  When I get to the Virginia line, every time I think, Hurrah, I'm almost there!  But I'm still 2 hours away from Williamsburg.

I am here with clothes for every season; I even threw a winter-ish coat in the car, my coat which is really more of a longer jacket, but which I wear more than my parka-ish coat.  I don't expect to wear it, but the delight of traveling by car is that I can take many an item that I might not need.

We ended the day as we often do, by watching the NewsHour show on PBS, watching people trying to explain what might be happening on the world stage.  I thought about my headlights, once burning brightly, then burnt out sooner than expected.  I thought about those brave headlights and the human newscasters, trying to function as headlights, showing us parts of the landscape we might not otherwise see. I thought about technology, how we sometimes feel like we're in control of it, but then we're back in the maw of petrochemicals showing us who is really in control--or not.

Spring Break Travels

My spring break is taking on a familiar shape.  I'm headed to my Mom and Dad's house while my spouse stays home to take care of stuff.  I'll be there for a few days and then head back here for doctor's appointments (eye and dermatologist) on Friday.

I'm not leaving until 9.  I don't like driving in the dark in the mountains, and this morning, it's foggy too. May as well stay home until rush hour dies down. It's not an awful rush hour by DC standards or S. Florida standards, but it can get snarled up.

I thought about walking this morning, but my ankle feels really odd--painful, like I shouldn't put too much pressure on it.  So between my painful ankle, the fog, and the time change, I'll likely just take it easy until 9.  Plus I need to finish packing.

As I always do when I travel by car, I'm bringing too much stuff:  my sewing basket, my art supply bag, my laptop, along with normal stuff, like clothes.  My sewing basket may stay in the car, but I'll be happier if I know that I can do some hand stitching if I want to.

Unlike some of our past spring breaks together, we don't have much planned.  We're not traveling, and we won't explore wineries or breweries.  My mom and I will get our hair done, and we'll do some shopping.

But even though it will be a low-key time together, it will be good to be together.  We are none of us getting younger, and it's good to gather while we can.

A Poem for International Women's Day

Today is International Women's Day.  I realize that I am luckier than many women throughout the world.  I have part-time work that I can do in the wee, small hours of the morning--or any time and place that I can get an Internet connection.  I have a full-time job that pays me a decent salary with decent benefits.  I am safe at both jobs, and my employers deposit my pay without incident.  I also have a part-time preaching job that feeds my soul in a different way.

I have a lovely house in a relatively safe neighborhood.  I have food in my kitchen and a way to keep it safe until I'm ready to cook it.

I have a bit of time here and there to do the activities that nourish me:  reading and a variety of creative work.  I have time to see friends.  My family members are in good shape.

We are bombarded, day after day, with stories of women who have not been so lucky, reminding us that we still have work to do.

I'm thinking of the multitude of poems that I've written about gender and history and all of those intersections.  Here's a poem that I wrote years ago that says a lot about the life of a certain class of women in modern, capitalistic countries.  It's part of my chapbook, Life in the Holocene Extinction.

The Hollow Women


We are the hollow women,
the ones with carved muscles,
the ones run ragged by calendars
and other apps that promised
us mastery of that cruel slavedriver, time.

We are the hollow women
with faces carved like pumpkins,
shapes that ultimately frighten.

We are the hollow women
who paint our faces the colors
of the desert and march
ourselves to work while dreaming
of mad dashes to freedom.

At night, the ancient ones speak
to us in soft, bodily gurgles
and strange dreams from a different homeland.
We surface from senseless landscapes
to wear our slave clothes
and artificial faces, masks
of every sort. We trudge
to our hollow offices to do our work,
that modern drudgery,
filing papers and shredding documents,
the feminine mystique, the modern housework,
while at home, domestics
from a different culture care
for the children.

Spring Weather and Spring Break and Villanelles

I in the Spring Break corridor of my teaching life, so you would think I would feel less harried.  But I also realize that the weeks after Spring Break bring increased activity on the calendar, with retreats and a wedding in Atlanta.  So here I am, feeling more stressed than I want to be, even as I know I will get it all done.

I remind myself that the stresses I have are the good kind--there's not sickness stress or family crisis stress.  And then I feel a bit fretful about other stresses that might be waiting offstage.

So let me chart some positives from the week that might slip away otherwise:

--I've given my English 102 classes time to write their second essay in class.  I've been happy watching them write and consult the textbook and write some more.  I do realize that they may use AI at some point, but they've done a lot of the work of writing without AI.

--Yesterday we went to a neighbor's house.  We are going to help with their garden while they are away, and in return, we get to use 2 of their raised beds.  It was such a beautiful afternoon, and so wonderful to see all that they have managed to cultivate on a very tiny patch of mountain land.

--We are in that part of spring where I can see the trees waiting for their grand debut, with a few making a quicker entrance.  And the daffodils have fully committed to the idea that we can count on spring having arrived.

--Because it's been warmer, I've been walking before I head down the mountain to school.  I don't always get a long walk, the way I did in the summer.  But I get a half hour walk in, and that's better than I've been doing.

--It's also been getting lighter earlier, so this week the sunrise has been an added benefit of an early morning walk.  This week, both sunrises and sunsets have been glorious.  Both of the pictures in this post are of sunrise on Wednesday.

--I got pulled over on Wednesday afternoon.  I have no doubt that I was speeding, but the officer never told me what he clocked me doing.  He gave me a written warning, and I feel lucky.  It's my 3rd written warning.  The first was when I was a student at Newberry College, and the second as I travelled to Mepkin Abbey.  In every case, I was treated kindly, and I do realize how many people are not that lucky.

--I had originally planned to do both sestinas and villanelles in my Advanced Creative Writing class yesterday, but I decided that I was being a bit ambitious.  We did a session on villanelles, which didn't take my students as long as I thought it might.  They probably could have done both sestinas and villanelles.  But I'm not going to worry about it.  It was the Thursday before Spring Break, so only half the class was there.

--I decided to write a villanelle too, and at first, that writing muscle felt so crusty and creaky.  But I quickly got back into the rhyming and repeating groove.

--I want to remember that I'm getting rough drafts written.  I may not always be transforming them into finished drafts, and some of them, like yesterday's villanelle, may not be worth more work.  But I am getting poem composing done more regularly than my finished drafts file will indicate to end of year Kristin.