Veterans Day 2026

Today is Veterans Day, a day to celebrate everyone who has served in the military, unlike Memorial Day, when we remember those who lost their lives during military service.  Here is a picture of my favorite veteran, my dad:

He's my favorite veteran for obvious reasons, but there are many other veterans who would also be favorites:  my father-in-law, an Army veteran, and my Florida pastor Keith Spencer and his wife, Piper Spencer, Navy veterans, for example.  I think of one of my best friends from high school, Chum Kimsey:

The above picture is from 2014, when she had just been diagnosed with esophageal cancer, which would take her life.  She served in the Army in the late 80's and early 90's.

Every so often, I hear people talk about how young people should be required to do military service.  I remember all the wars which wrecked so many lives, and I don't think military service requirement is the answer to whatever problems we see in "the youth today."  Spend a summer working in a VA hospital and then come tell me how military service would be a solution--and how we would afford to take care of even more injured veterans.

On November 11, I'm also thinking of Armistice Day, the end to World War I.  I think it's hard for most of us to conceive of how many people died in World War I. Even when I have my students imagine all of their male classmates going off to fight and no one coming back, I think it's hard to get our heads around the total. I wish we could all go to the WWI cemeteries in France. It's a visual that's tough to capture in a picture; it does make a very different impact.

And here's the even more sobering statistic:  look up how many people died in World War II.  It's staggering, the kind of numbers that make me say, "Were there even that many people alive at that time?"  Yes, there were that many people alive--and at the end of 4 years, they were dead.

Here's a picture of my dad, my sister, and me at the WWII Memorial during an Honor Flight event.

It was both a joyful trip and a somber one, being surrounded by living veterans, all older than 65, and the monuments to the wars that they fought.  It was a sobering reminder of the ultimate cost that so many veterans pay/paid.

I am also thinking of all the quilters I know who make quilts for veterans as a way to say thank you:

I'm not at a point yet where I could do that--but this morning, I'm wishing that I could show gratitude in this way, a way that results in a beautiful quilt.  For this morning, though, words will have to do.

Waking Up Alone in the Fixer-Upper (but All Is Well)

I have spent the first night by myself in the fixer-upper house in Spartanburg.  We've spent one night here before, which I wrote about in this blog post.   But last night it made more sense for me to be here and my spouse in Arden.

I'm happy to report that all went well.  When I was younger, in my late teens and 20's, I was much more afraid to be the only one sleeping in a house.  It's not that I was sleeping in unsafe places--no, they were perfectly nice houses in the suburbs, with several locks on every door.

I was not afraid sleeping in the open, as part of a backpacking trip.  Of course, I never backpacked by myself.

Yesterday was a long, long work day--nothing bad, but lots of responsibilities in one day.  I didn't have a chance to do grocery shopping, so this morning, I wondered if there were any bakeries nearby.  Lo and behold, I found the Little River Brewing Company just a few miles away.  It's a coffee roaster, a cafe, and an outdoor dining/concert space--I went to the Fretwell Street location.

I bought a health nut cookie, a pumpkin scone, and a molasses cookie, and I think the health nut cookie was my favorite.  It had pumpkin seeds and nuts and dried fruit held together with gluten free flour.  It didn't taste fatty, although it wasn't dry.  It also wasn't sweet.

I am planning to go for a walk at 10 this morning--I can still do that and be to work by 11:45.  What a revelation.  I've done some poetry packet submitting.  I want to make sure the closet is cleanish/dust free before moving the clothes I brought with me.

It's strange to look out the windows and see so many bare branches on the trees.  Autumn is zooming by.  We have a truck coming on Thursday to move the bigger items to our S'burg house.  Two weeks from now, we have the last day of classes; when we come back from Thanksgiving, we have a reading day and go right into exams.

My spouse should be here soon, so let me go and make the house look less like a hurricane swept through.

Amish Quilters and Mistakes Made with Abandon

Some people see me as a talented quilter, but I realize all of my shortcomings:  I'm not precise in terms of cutting or stitching.  I've figured out projects that work for me.  I want to stitch so that I have something to do during times of TV watching, so sewing on the machine won't work.  I don't like hand quilting as much on big projects, but modern batting doesn't need extensive quilting to keep it in place, so I quilt less.  Some people pay for long arm quilters to finish their projects, but so far, I haven't.

Quilt Camp always reminds me of how many ways we can create fabric arts.  I'm also reminded of how often quilting finds its way into my poems.

Ten years ago, four years before I went to my first Quilt Camp, I wrote a poem with some of these ideas, a poem which was also a response to a poem by Luisa Igloria.  It appeared in a post on Dave Bonta's Via Negativa site. 

One Intentional Mistake

                    “how for years I was taught:
                    fly low under the radar.”
                    “Only” by Luisa Igloria



Amish quilters made intentional mistakes
because only God can craft
items of perfection.

I make mistakes without precision,
scattering them across my work
with great abandon, as if to ward
off evil spirits.

Those spirits will move
on to haunt those who are too proud
of their precise stitches, their perfect
children, their houses ready to grace
the cover of glossy magazines.

I fly under the radar
of every evil spirit with my chaotic
collection of art supplies spread
out across every surface, children frolicking
in paint or mud.

But my children get their nightly baths
before being tucked into beds with bright
quilts with crooked seams. I will tell
them one last story
about the woman who abandoned
the neatness of numbered columns
for the spatter of paint and the magic
of fairy cakes in the overgrown garden.

Fall Quilt Camp 2026

I haven't meant to be silent here on the blog; I even took my laptop to Quilt Camp yesterday, but I was so focused on my projects that I barely used it at all.  By late morning on Saturday, I had finally put together the top for the Christmas quilt I'm making for my cousin's oldest child who is graduating from high school in the spring, the one who loves all things Christmas.

On Friday, I finished the quilt for the king size bed.  It was mostly done, but I needed to close up all the edges.

I love that the quilt has so many scraps from fellow quilters, and a bit from some of my grandmother's fabric that was left when she made clothes for me.  When I presented it at Show and Tell, I thought people might tell me scraps they recognized, but they did not.

I opened the Faith Center every morning and led a small group on a walk each afternoon.  Along with all the sewing I get done, I love the chance to reconnect with friends.

We had perfect autumnal days, after the heavy rains passed through on Wednesday.  I am keenly aware of the fact that we won't have this weather and autumnal views much longer, so I pushed myself to get out and walk.

I don't have a picture of one of the most fun parts of this year's Quilt Camp.  One of the retreatants has a small general store, and she brought mystery bundles, 2 pounds of scraps (mainly long lengths) of quality fabric, fabric pre-packaged from a distant manufacturer.  After evening show and tell on Thursday, the quilter next to me bought one, and we watched her unpack it.  The quality and variety and amount impressed us,--all that fabric for $15!  The surrounding quilters each bought one, including me.  We took turns unpacking each bundle, with many oohs and ahs, and then we spent time trading.  I was late to bed that night.

Quilt Camp as Metaphor for Political Hope

I ran out of time yesterday, or perhaps it would be more correct to say that time got away from me.  I planned to write more about the election, of course.  I planned to write about my online classes; the curriculum/tech/assessment experts revamped the class, and there have been surprises, like the video students posted instead of a written discussion post, which worked surprisingly well, except for how much longer it took me to grade them.

What I posted just after midnight as election day passed into the day after election day is still true--how profoundly moving to see so many women elected.  I am also surprised by how many mainline Protestant pastors and seminarians were elected; James Talarico got the most coverage, but James Hamilton, perhaps, has the most experience and influence in a religious sphere of everyone elected.

I have been watching coverage and postings, and I'm struck by what people want and hope for after these elections.  My want/hope is simple:  pass some legislation that can help some people.  I don't care about Epstein files or corruption investigations--go back to that housing bill that had bipartisan support and might be veto-proof in the new Congress.  I don't care about taxing billionaires--bring back the health care subsidies that helped people afford health insurance.  I don't care about impeachment--restore that expansion of the earned income tax credit that happened in the wake of the pandemic, the expansion that showed remarkable impact on alleviating child poverty during the brief time it was in effect.

I say that I don't care about ___________ -- I do care, but I don't think it's a good use of time and energy.  

Let's do some things that most of us can agree on, some legislation that will make life better for people who won't see those things happen without some federal money.  Legislation with money delivers power that individuals and groups can't do on their own.  My small country church agrees with my desire for more housing, especially for poor people.  We don't have the resources to build one house, let alone an apartment complex.  But legislation done well could attract development.

I will spend the rest of the week at Quilt Camp, which seems like a great metaphor for what the country needs.  We are women of varying beliefs, but we find our common ground when we come together.  We are women of varying skills, but we're all creating works of beauty.

A Historic Election Day

It is the morning after a historic election day with not much time to write.  Here's the Facebook post I made just after midnight:  I fell asleep early-ish for an election night (by 9 p.m.), early-ish for most grown ups on any night, and scrolling through results at midnight, I'm struck by how many of the winners are women, particularly in races for governor. It's going to be a record breaking election day for all sorts of reasons, but women winners give me so much hope!

Poem for the Feast of All Souls

Today is the Feast of All Souls. You might be confused--didn't we just celebrate this holiday yesterday?

No, that was All Saints. All Saints was originally designed to honor the saints, those who had been beatified. Official saints, canonized by the Pope.

All Souls Day, celebrated the day after All Saints, was designed to honor everyone else who had died.

In some traditions, All Saints Day honors all the Christian dead, and All Souls Day honors those who have died in the past year. Those of you with excellent memories of your English major days may remember that Sir Gawain left for his adventure with the Green Knight on All Souls Day. Medieval audiences would have read a lot into that date of departure. As Sir Gawain leaves, his castle-mates would have been expecting to celebrate his life the following year.

It will surprise no one to find out that these holidays have inspired me to write all kinds of poems.  Here's one, inspired by my commuting days down to Miami in the early part of this century:

All Saints Day in the Metro


We ride the train,
flickering candles in this metal pumpkin,
weary souls wishing for a vacation.

Just yesterday, we’d have worn
our Halloween costumes, a window
to the selves we might have been.

Today, hardly a trace
of that festivity remains: a smudge
of make up, a trace of hair dye.

The young man leaps up.
We fully expect a gun
to come out of his case.

Bathed in the sunset,
he plays his violin.
Serene music lifts our spirits.

No longer haunted
by our tasks left half-completed,
we settle into the ride.

The train trundles north,

past urban blight and clogged rivers,

the skeletons of new condos straining to the sky.

Halloween 2026 Report

If you came here thinking you would get a post about all the trick-or-treaters that came to our house, that is not the neighborhood we live in now.  Will our fixer-upper house have more trick-or-treaters?  Perhaps we will see in the coming years; last night we were in Arden, NC.

Our NC neighborhood has maybe 2 or 3 families with children, depending on the year.  We don't have sidewalks, and many of our driveways are not friendly and welcoming for trick-or-treaters.  

Most years, we don't even see much in the way of decorations; this year we had a few jack-o-lanterns.  My pile of pumpkins has been feeding the squirrels for weeks.

It was a fairly peaceful Halloween.  I made the bread that we use for communion (this recipe is wonderful, minus the cinnamon, for communion leavened bread).  I made a quick trip to the local library which was busy with the last day of early voting, but peaceful on the library side.

My sermon writing was frustrating.  I couldn't get it to come together, although my writing work was useful in the morning Bible study that I led on Zoom.  I put the draft aside, and this morning, I'm happy to discover that it's a perfectly acceptable sermon.

We spent much of yesterday afternoon watching the remake of Carrie.  I wasn't sure that the story could be stretched out over 8 episodes, and I was happily surprised.  I will confess that by episode 8, I was a bit weary of it all, and the twists of episode 8 didn't quite work for me.  But it was a fine way to spend Halloween, and I'm glad that the episode was more suspenseful than horror-drenched or gory.

And now, on to All Saints.  Today at Faith Lutheran in Bristol, TN, we'll construct an altar, and we'll invite people to bring photos of  lost loved ones forward.  We will light candles, by which I mean we'll turn on the battery operated candles.  It will be a day of both memory and celebration.

Humanities Halloween Party

At the end of September, as I looked at the late October events, I decided that I would like a witch hat.  I briefly thought of making one, even looking up patterns.  But I found this hat for less than ten dollars, I decided not to spend time sewing.

I wore it Tuesday, which I wrote about in this blog post, and I wore it again yesterday.  We had a Halloween party for English and Humanities majors and anyone who might be interested in our major--which is to say everyone.

I didn't take pictures of the variety of costumes that we wore.  Mine was understated:  a black skirt, purple shirt, and black sweater.  I wore my witch hat all day.

The high point of my work day was the party, and the high point of the party was the caramel apple bar:

 I had heard rumors that we would have one, and I had a vision of all of us putting sticks in apples.  Instead, we had a huge bowl of cut up apples, with a variety of toppings; the picture cuts off 6 more topping options.

We had a variety of candies, along with cookies, small cupcakes, and salty snacks.  My department chair made "frozen eyeballs" by freezing blueberries in round cubes:

She also tried to have frozen fingers, by freezing water in gloves, but that experiment was less successful.

I got to be the person who ran the trivia game.  We had 30 questions, Halloween themed, from our various Humanities classes, for example, "Which Shakespeare play has 3 witches?"  Students chose a slip of paper and if they gave the correct answer, they got an extra raffle ticket.

I am so happy to be at a school that has so many events for students outside of the classroom.  We even avoid having classes from 11-noon so that clubs can have meetings and chapel services don't compete with classes and folks can have meetings.  I am so happy to be part of a department that is willing to go to such lengths to have a festive event.

With all the dismal higher ed news coming from all parts of the U.S., I also feel profoundly grateful to be at a school that's on a good financial footing.  I know how quickly it can all change at one institution, but I continue to remain hopeful that I've found a school with longevity.

Racing, Racing, Racing

Yesterday we stopped at Coston's Orchard, my favorite orchard, to get some more apples for teaching.  Earlier this term, I got apples for my Nonfiction Writing class--it was a great way to have students write reviews--reviewing 3 different varietals of apples.  Today I'll take apples to my Composition class.

Yesterday my spouse pointed out that we drove past at least 5 orchards to get to my favorite; he is correct.  Some of those orchards are more crowded, but I really don't have a great explanation for why I go further, beyond force of habit.  All of the orchards have similar varietals, and they were all family-owned at some point--no oppressive labor practices are in evidence.

Today I'll begin my work day in my Composition class and then an office hour.  At the 11 a.m. period when most of us are free, we'll have a Halloween party for English majors.  And then I'll finish with Nonfiction writing.  It will feel like an easy day.

Hopefully I can create some of the assignments that students will work on next week.  I'm at the point in the semester where I feel a bit breathless at trying to stay a step or two ahead.  We are very close to the end of the term, which is also making me feel breathless.

I still have much writing to do this week-end:  a sermon, my Liturgy class final paper, and paperwork for internship (the next step in candidacy).  But I should be able to get it all done, even though the thought of doing it all makes me tired.  

Small Joys in Late October

I am sure I will remember some of the bigger joys of October, like the Trail of Treats event on Tuesday night, the onground intensive in mid-October, the Crumley archives banquet, and a breakfast reunion with my mom's Lexington cousins.  Let me record some smaller joys that might be forgotten.

--My wrenched knee has mostly healed itself--just a twinge here or there.

--Our Spartanburg house had no hot water, and my spouse couldn't get the pilot light re-lit.  I called the gas company, who said they would send out a tech, and there would be no charge, if we were willing to wait the 5 days until the appointment.  Yesterday, the tech called and told us it would be a $184 charge.  We said yes, since having a different professional would probably be a similar charge.

Happily, the tech came, lit the pilot light, and told us it would be no charge.

Did the tech use a special tool?  No, just one of those lighters that people use with a fireplace or a grill.  Note to self:  buy one of those if the pilot light goes out again.

--Yesterday, my energy was really sputtering.  Happily, my afternoon Nonfiction class carried me through, with their enthusiasm for the writing instructions exercise that we did (very similar to the experience in this blog post, but with fellow students attempting to follow the instructions).  One of them said, "This is so much fun."  Hurrah!

--I am also inspired by how much good writing my students are creating in their daily writing exercises.

--When I took the trash to the bin yesterday, I got a streak of paint on my shorts--boo!  Happily, it's an older pair of shorts--not so old as to be house renovation shorts, but old enough that I wouldn't wear them during a retreat.

--I'm seeing news of lots of flooding in S. Florida, with historically high King Tides.  I am so happy not to own a house in a flood zone!

--I am often in the mood for evening Halloween-themed TV, but not in the mood for anything too scary or gory--which leaves very few choices.  Last night we discovered the Hotel Transylvania franchise--we watched #2, with a very cute baby that may or may not turn out to be a vampire.  It was delightful.

--Today we will stop by an apple orchard on our way to or from S'burg.  I need apples for tomorrow's Composition class, and I'm happy to have a compelling reason to go to a local orchard before they close for the season. 

First Overnight in the Fixer-Upper

When we bought this fixer-upper house in Spartanburg back in early May, we thought we would spend the summer renovating it and move a truck load of belongings down here to be ready for a fall semester with less commuting back and forth to Arden.  It's been a slower remodel than we expected.

Last night was our first overnight here.  Last week the new mattresses were delivered, and so we were able to spend the night last night, which I really wanted to do, because I volunteered to help with a Halloween event last night that was going to last until 8:30 or 9.

I was glad I was able to do that.  It was a fun event with tables and candy and most of us in costumes. 

Here's the English and Humanities table, with me on one end and my dean on the other and the English chair in the middle.

I was grateful that I only needed to drive across town where my spouse was watching the World Series on the TV we bought yesterday morning.  We bought a much smaller one than most people are buying, based on what the options are--what huge flatscreen televisions are the norm now!

We discovered that the light on the pole in the backyard does work.  We've been paying a separate $10 a month charge on our electric bill for "outdoor light"; I thought it was probably that light, but I wasn't sure.  Do we want to keep it?  It lights up the whole back yard, but also the back half of the house, even with blinds closed.

Because of the light, my spouse was able to see two deer come up from the small creek/wooded area up through the back yard.  I tried, but since I was sleeping, I wasn't fast enough.

I'm happy to report that the king size mattress gave me a good night's sleep--good for the first night in a new place.  And I'm ready to finish the quilt that will be on the bed full-time; I waited to finish the edges until I was sure it was big enough.

It will surprise few people who know me that I had made the quilt too big.  I took off a row of big squares from the side of the bed that you can see in the picture.

Soon I will go for a walk in the new-to-me neighborhood.  And later, instead of leaving 90 minutes early for my commute, I will only budget a 20 minute commute--a foretaste of what I hope will be the norm for my spring semester.

Lingering Light in Late Autumn

Last night was a perfect night for an outdoor gathering at one of our local breweries, Appalachian Mountain Brewery in Mills River.  We were there a month ago, and half of us spent a good part of the night squinting into the setting sun.  Last night, we sat at a different table and didn't have that problem.

We chose that brewery because they have a full kitchen.  Last night I had an amazing salad with steak on it, much better than last time's felafel.  Both times I got fries, and both times, they were amazing.

Driving home, the moon rose over the mountain range, full and huge.  Even if I had a different camera, I doubt I could have captured the full impact.

It's hard not to think about the end of Daylight Savings Time this week-end.  The weather may continue to be glorious, like it has been for much of October, but evening will come crashing down on us much earlier.  I don't always find that aspect of late autumn to be oppressive, but it might affect the planning of outdoor events.

When we have a good neighborhood gathering, like we did last night, I immediately want to plan a repeat event.  In part, last night's event was born out of that impulse.  In part, it was born out of my overextended brain and my inability to come up with anything different right now.

But why should I come up with something different?  We won't have these warm days much longer, at least not here in the mountains of North Carolina, and we won't have lingering light in the late afternoon much longer.

Abbey Autumnal: Two Poems

Here we are, the last week of October, which down here in the Carolina's should be beautiful.  For me, it will be a week of 2 Halloween events at work, which makes me so very happy.  There will be a neighborhood gathering at a local brewery.  

Of course, there will be much more mundane events.  On Wednesday, we find out if the fixer-upper house needs a new hot water heater or if it's a simple fix of lighting the pilot light.  Later in the week, there will be a Zoom call for the Quilt Camp leadership team.

It's also the last week of an election year, midterm elections, which may be monumental in terms of individual wins, but probably won't lead to the kinds of changes I would like to see.  Truth be told, I never have that kind of hope in elections anymore.

I've been trying to come up with something slightly different for my Creative Writing class tomorrow.  We've been doing autumnal themed activities, with teaching ideas that I've used in English 101 and 102.  Usually that would require no modification, but this year, half the class had me for 101 and/or 102.

So, I've added to past lesson plans, which has made them better.  But I also want to do something entirely different.  So tomorrow, we'll discuss works that are anti-autumn in some way, like this classic about decorative gourd season (which also lets us discuss profanity) and this one about the end of daylight savings time.  We'll also talk about using autumnal elements in surprising ways.

I'm going to use this poem as a model.  I wrote it long ago, after one of my annual autumn retreats to Mepkin Abbey.  

Autumn at the Abbey

I drove seven hundred miles from the tip
of Spanish speaking Florida to the Gullah drenched
lowcountry marsh.

I arose in the wee small hours of the morning
to drive up the spine of the state
with truckers and other insomniacs.

I saw the flaming
orange fields, the flickers
of light across the river.

I have eaten eggs from the chickens
raised by monks and been sprinkled
with holy water before bed.

I saw the baby Jesus
created from a
cornucopia of materials.

I harmonized with monks
and chanted my way through a quarter
of the Psalms.

I watched the monks at sunset
walking under Spanish moss draped
trees, ghosts from a different century.

---

I'm also going to include this poem, which I wrote when I wanted the poem to be more explicitly Halloween influenced.

All Hallows at the Abbey

I awoke very early to sing
lauds with the monks,
and then I set out for the river.

In the pre-sunrise mists that rose off the currents,
I would not have been surprised
to see a runaway slave.

In the afternoon, the fields flamed
orange and light winked
across the water.

I returned to the chapel to harmonize
with monks and chant
the Psalms that still speak to us.

As the sun sank, across the river, candles flickered
in carved pumpkins and costumed children participated
in a different ancient ritual.

As we walked to compline service, monks in white robes
walked under trees dripping with Spanish moss,
ghosts from a different century.

---

Will these ideas generate something new?  Stay tuned!

Hay Rides and Full Moons and Pumpkins

We have been to several autumn festivals at Faith Lutheran church, but yesterday was the first time I've taken part in the hayride.  Last night, as the full moon rose, and just before the sun sank at the horizon, a tractor pulled a low flatbed with hay bales around the back field of the church.  It was gorgeous, and I have no pictures, and I am fine with that.

It was so delightful that I went a second time, later.  We stopped to pick up some pumpkins out of the side field on the way back.  We had bought a lot because we advertised "Free pumpkins."  I was surprised by how many people didn't want one.

We had 8 varieties of chili for people to try, along with 2 kinds of cornbread and at least 10 dessert options.  Everyone was in a festive mood, and the weather was perfect.

The leaves are less glorious this year, but here and there, a tree is doing its full autumnal celebration.  Many trees have already lost all their leaves, and a good number of them are still green.  I'm happy to look up and see the leaf beauty in whatever form it offers. 

And now, off to celebrate the Reformation!   Worship begins at 10, and all are welcome.

Waning Days of October

Later today, we'll get in the car and head the other direction on I 26, up to Bristol.  You might say, "Wait, it's not Sunday."  No, it's not, but because today is Faith Lutheran's Chili Fest, we're going up today and spending the night in a hotel.  It's been a month of a lot of travel for me, and today is the last overnight trip.

Tomorrow is Reformation Sunday; a week from today is Halloween.  The World Series is underway, and my spouse who has been a baseball fan from childhood is more excited about this World Series than he's been in years, if not decades.  While I am enjoying these October days, I'm also keenly aware that my favorite season is zooming by.

Yesterday we went out into the bright October sunshine.  Were we going to an apple orchard?  No, we went to buy some desk chairs for the fixer-upper house.  I can't quite figure out when to do the bigger move, but in the coming weeks, we'll have a place to sit while we figure it out.

The natural gas company will come out on Wed. to relight the pilot light on the hot water heater.  If we need to replace it, a bigger move will be postponed.

In later years, when I wonder why I didn't do much writing, or why I didn't do more of my favorite autumnal activities in the fall of 2026, let me remember how much of my spare time and mental space has been consumed with this fixer-upper house.  Let me also remember the unanticipated joys of this semester; my classes have been going spectacularly well.

Internet Service, Voting, and Traffic Woes

It has been a busy few days, especially yesterday, but happily, we've gotten some important tasks done.  We should have a tech arriving at our fixer-upper house in Spartanburg to get our internet set up--which meant we spent an hour yesterday finding the Spectrum sales store, waiting for 10 minutes, and then going over our options and making a choice.

After doing that, we got in the car to head back to our home in Arden.  We sat in stopped traffic because of a lane closure due to bridge work.  It could have been much, much worse--on a different part of I 26 yesterday afternoon there was an hours-long closure after a wrong way crash that led to death and injury.  It all makes me glad that at some point soon, I won't be commuting quite as much.

We had planned to vote yesterday afternoon, and we decided to head over to our local library; all our early voting in my county is done at library branches.  If it was too crowded at the polls, I could still get some library books returned. Happily, I was able to get my library books picked up, check out my the latest Anne Patchett book that I put on hold back when it first came out, and we voted.

The voting was easy:  no lines, no ugly protests outside, no wait of any kind, equipment that seems state of the art, at least to me.  I had downloaded a sample ballot, which I filled out and brought with me, so I didn't need to spend time pondering my choices.

Once again, my writing time is short--off we go, for me to teach, and for my spouse to wait for the tech person to show up.  During my office hours, I'll try to get someone to come look at the hot water heater, which was working weeks ago, and is no longer--ah, the joys of a fixer-upper!

Winged Chariots and Writing Projects

It's that time again, when I feel various projects piling up; Andrew Marvell said it so much more eloquently, "But at my back I always hear / Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near."  Of course, the speaker is trying to woo a woman--or maybe just get sex.  I am trying to grade papers and write poems and send work out for possible publication and along the way, write a weekly sermon and finish work for my TEEM requirements.

So this morning, when my brain snapped awake just after 3, I gave myself stern instructions, "In the next three hours, you must make progress on either your sermon or your Jeremiah paper."

I decided that the Jeremiah paper needed to be done first, so I started a pot of coffee and settled in.  By now, I know that one of the secrets to a good writing morning is to do the writing before opening any internet portals, and I followed that formula this morning to great success:  1989 words, for an assignment that asks for 1000-1500 words.  I need to craft a conclusion, and I'm done.

I had some ideas when I started, and the writing flowed easily--the kind of joy I rarely experience with academic writing.  Of course, I didn't need to use many scholarly sources, so it was bound to be much easier, but that's not always a given.  It was also a joy to find my writing going in unanticipated and exciting directions--also, not always a given.  I was surprised, in good ways, and delighted.

Hopefully my sermon will also proceed similarly.  That writing, however, will have to wait until later--that chariot that will deliver me to Spartanburg will need to leave in two-ish hours, which means I need to get ready soon.

Teaching Confirmations and Affirmations

Yesterday afternoon, I went to downtown Spartanburg, to the business office of Hub City publishers, a group which also runs the charming, downtown bookstore.  We had the last meeting with a student who is doing a Capstone project.  We agreed that it's been a success.

It was neat to be in the office space of a small business, with stacks of books and packages waiting to be mailed.  It was good to remember that small businesses are still doing what they do, and even better that it's a business that supports readers and writers--and in Spartanburg.

As I walked in the perfect October afternoon weather, I thought about how Spartanburg reminds me of early 80's Asheville, and I mean that in the best possible way:  small businesses, people walking in safety from traffic, easy to navigate, plentiful parking which is free.  And did I mention the small businesses are varied and charming?

So far, it's been a good teaching week, both in terms of classes and students.  Some of them are students in my classes:  yesterday, one of my students was ablaze with happiness at having made progress on the novel-in-progress.  Some of the students are ones who came to me because of their own creative writing interests, and I was happy to be part of projects, like the Capstone project, or just a wise elder, reminding a student that one can still do creative writing, even if it's not a job, that we can't be sure of what will make us money and what won't and having a creative interest not influenced by monetizing potential might be a net positive.  It's also been past students:  a colleague told me of a student in her class who gave me credit for becoming a competent writer (and happily, my colleague says she's continuing to produce stellar writing).

I am usually happy to perk along, confident that what I am doing matters--but it's nice to have confirmation along the way.

Autumn Odes and Puzzles

We have been in a stretch of perfect autumnal weather:  chilly nights, clear days, before the time change so we still have plenty of time to enjoy this perfect October time.  As I drove down the Cumberland Highway on Saturday, I was struck by how many small towns had piled pumpkins around the "Welcome to ______ " signs.  Pumpkins and hay bales and perhaps a scarecrow that wouldn't scare a soul.

It's not the perfect leaf viewing season, however.  Yesterday I stood on the back deck and stared up at the trees, and I was startled to realize how thin the leaf canopy is.  Many trees dropped their leaves before attaining full autumnal glory--and many trees are still fairly green in leaf.

When we first moved to South Florida, I didn't realize how different the seasons would be.  I didn't miss winter much, and summers seemed similar to South Carolina, but every year I had a fierce yearning for fall.  One year we bought two puzzles, and I still remember the one with the autumnal picture.  It was a nineteenth century town with horses and wagons and a big dance happening in the center of the village.  The trees had the perfect assortment of autumnal leaves and pumpkins dotted the puzzle landscape.

We put that puzzle together in the fall of 2001, when the world felt so topsy-turvy.  It was soothing to put the puzzle together.  

 I was teaching the British literature survey class, and I had Keats' "Ode on a Grecian Urn" on my brain--those figures on the urn, forever frozen in whatever emotional moment they experienced right then.  I thought the puzzle offered a similar dynamic.

It's an interesting spiritual question that Keats poses:  is it better to be forever poised to kiss the beloved?  Is it better to live in the moment of anticipation, rather than having to deal with all the messy humanness that comes after the kiss, once we truly know our beloved?

And there are larger questions posed by both the urn and the poem:  how do we stay in the here and now?  How do we not get distracted by our sorrows?  How do we maintain our faith, in the face of enormous woes?  For me, during that autumn of 2001 that broke our hearts in so many ways, the answer came in the jigsaw puzzle.

I've never thought of jigsaw puzzles as spiritual practice or meditation aid.  Perhaps I should. 

As these thoughts swirled in my brain, a poem began to emerge.  It's now 25 years old, so the imagery of disaster might feel dated, not something I considered when I composed it.  Despite the dated reference to September 11, I think it holds up relatively well.

Ode on an American Puzzle


These people do not puzzle over how the pieces
of their lives fit together. They know their purpose,
always at the center of the picture.
They will never return home to unfinished
craft projects and unwashed dishes. They will celebrate
continuously at this harvest dance, the deepest
darks of night and winter always at arm’s
length, the leaves always brightly colored,
mounds of pumpkins waiting for transformation,
every woman and man matched, the children tended.

Perhaps that is why I like puzzles.
As buildings melt and planes explode, and even smaller tragedies
rip apart the pieces of a life, I find
a measured calm that even poetry cannot provide.
I sit at this table, free from existential mystery.
I know what picture will emerge as I piece
this project into one. I know that all the parts
have been provided. I know that they will connect.
What other aspect of my life can hope
to offer the same consolation?