Back from a Brief Sailing Trip

We are back from a brief sailing trip.  Those of you who have been reading this blog for a long time know that we often join my sister, her husband, and their son on their sailboat--by often, I mean once or twice a year.  For the past several years, we've gone on more of an expedition than just the afternoon sail.

When we planned this trip, I had no idea we'd be buying a house.  I had hopes, of course, but my timeline was much more vague when I bought the airline tickets.  But it worked out fine:  we left on July 4 and returned late last night.  In some ways, it's perfect, since I don't imagine we'd have been doing a lot of business on July 5, even if we had been home.

And now it's back to regular life, whatever that turns out to be.  Today is the first day of our summer quarter, and hopefully, we're just a few days away from our close date.  Dizzying.

Let me record a few memories from our trip before they slip away.

--Our plane left at 6:30 a.m. on July 4.  We had no problems at all.  The line at security was non-existent.

--What a difference compared to last night.  The security lines at BWI were long, and the TSA workers seemed irritable.  There had been flight delays, which meant our flight was delayed.  There weren't enough seats.  And we seemed to be travelling with every teenage team playing every sport--where were all these teenagers headed?  I never figured it out.

--In between flights, we had a great trip.  We sailed to anchor out for 2 nights (the night of July 4 was too choppy to anchor out).  We had great food.  We had wonderful winds.  We swam in the Chesapeake Bay, braving the jellyfish and the strange smells because it was so good to cool off.  We remembered how little we need, in terms of what society has to offer, to make us truly happy.

--I loved seeing different landscapes:  the Chesapeake Bay, the different trees, the clumps of hydrangeas everywhere.  I loved the various small towns of Maryland that we drove through to get to the boat.  I loved the variety of boats.  It's all so different from my coastal life down here in South Florida.

--I was off the grid for several days--ahhhh.  I got a chance to read a whole book!  Several of them.

--Kate Atkinson's "Life after Life" is as wonderful as reviewers have said.  I've continued to think about it for days.  Michael Pollan's "Cooked" is not as good as "The Omnivore's Dilemma," but still quite fascinating.  More on these books later perhaps. 

--We played Monopoly, which was a bit too close to what I've been doing in terms of real estate for the past several months.  It was better to play Blackjack and Uno or games that we made up.

--Unlike past years, we didn't color as much.  We did create books of puzzles.

--My nephew loves Slurpees, so we had several of them in a long week-end.  I haven't had one since I was about 9 years old.  I remember them being tastier.

--On July 4, I heard the strains of "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald," sung by a folksinger at a restaurant at the marina.  I wondered about the wisdom of singing about a massive sinking surrounded by so many boats.

--I didn't hear much traditional 4th of July music.  But everywhere I went, I heard all sorts of music that reminded me of what's out there, available for just a few mouse clicks.  It's an amazing time we live in.

--And yes, like some people, I mourn what is passing away.  And then, I'm reminded I might have been mourning too early.  Throughout the airport yesterday, amidst the data charging centers, I saw people reading.  I saw a book on the control panel that moves the door to the airplane--clearly, the controller chooses to read during downtimes.

--For me, today will not be one of those downtimes, alas.  But I'm glad I had some time away, time to reconnect with family, time to see different landscapes, time to relax and remember that life is good despite the challenges.

Enjoy Summer's Pleasures Now, While We Have Them

Now we have passed what many of us think of as the midpoint of summer.  Once the next 6 weeks zoom by, many of us will have to begin thinking of back-to-school issues, regardless of what the weather tells us.

So, now, before summer slips away, let us think of the summer pleasures we want to make sure we enjoy, if we haven't already.

Here are some suggestions:

--Many communities show movies outdoor, after dark, on a huge screen or a sheet or against the side of a building.  They're usually fun, family events.

--Some of the fruits and vegetables that we can get right now are at their peak and won't taste this good again until next summer.  Add tomatoes to your shopping list.  Add melons.  Add corn on the cob.

--Put some of this bounty away for later.  Most fruits and veggies are easy to freeze.  Or explore canning.  It's easy to make jams and chutneys, with little risk of food poisoning.

--It's too hot to cook.  Explore what your grill can do.  Explore the world of salads.  Enjoy fruit for dinner.

--Since it's hot, enjoy water.  Go to the beach.  Explore the water parks in your community.  If you have kids in your life, let them loose with a water hose and remember what joy can come from a simple water hose.

--As I think about summers of my youth, I think about hiding in the air conditioning, spending whole days reading.  Now is the time to lose yourself in a good book.  Go to your public library and check out a huge stack.  Enjoy the knowledge that comes with having lots of good books around you; if one turns out to be a mistake, you've got others.

--A movie festival in your own living room is a great idea, especially when we hit a rainy patch.  We've been enjoying all the Robin Williams movies from the late 80's and early 90's.  It's fun to revisit them, and intriguing to see them all at once.

--If summer is getting on your last nerve, listen to Christmas music or watch a Halloween movie.  Cook a meal that's not associated with summer:  a Thanksgiving dinner or a pot roast.

"Scatter, Adapt, and Remember": a Good Read (even if your tastes don't run to apocalypse)

I keep a list of books I want to read.  I used to jot down titles on sticky notes as I read book reviews, but that became unmanageable.  So now I have a little notebook.  I also keep a list of books that are coming at some point that I want to remember to look up.  Annalee Newitz's Scatter, Adapt, and Remember:  How Humans Will Survive a Mass Extinction has been on that list for over a year, but I can't remember where I first heard of it.

It's a great book, even if you're not crazy about the subject of apocalypse.  It's a book that comes at the subject from a variety of angles.

There's the science angle, of course.  And there's the history angle:  in the first part of the book, Newitz chronicles the mass extinctions that the earth has survived.  She also explores events, like the Bubonic Plague of 1348, which came close to wiping out humanity.  And then, she looks at the lessons learned from those extinctions and how we could use them.

In a move that's unusual for this kind of book, we even get a bit of literary criticism.  Newitz explores the works of Octavia Butler, who is an amazing writer in all sorts of ways.  Butler has a lot to teach us, on this subject and so many others.

What I find intriguing is that Scatter, Adapt, and Remember does not descend into gloom.  It's an oddly hopeful book, for a book that explores mass extinction.  Part IV is a wonderful look at how to build a better city.  And much of the technology we have right now.

She ends the book by looking at how we might survive on other planets.  Once we get to the end of the book, we realize that one of the ways to survive a mass extinction is to run away (the scatter of the title).  How will we get to other planets?  Spaceships?  A giant tube?  There are so many possibilities!

Newitz has done her homework.  She's talked to the experts and read the research.  There are endnotes for nerds like me who want to read more.  There are photos and charts.  And yet it's a highly readable book.  The research side doesn't sink the story aspects.

I like that it's smart:  my brain gets a lot to chew on.  I like that it's not overwhelming, even though it's smart.  The danger with these kind of books is that my lack of formal science training will keep me from understanding and lead to frustration and tears.  This book does not have that effect.  It reminds me of reading science fiction in high school and having my brain expand in ways that didn't happen in formal science classes.

What's also a plus for this book is that the sections could stand on their own, as could the individual chapters.  What that means for readers with busy lives:  you can read a chunk of this book, return to the book a month later, and not have to reread the whole book to remember where you were.  You can dip in and out.  Or you can just read the chunks that interest you.

Being the apocalypse gal that I am, I found it hard to put down, although I didn't read it in one big gulp.  Alas, I'm not having that kind of summer, the kind with huge vistas of reading time.  But I'm happy that this book works so beautifully in this summer of fractured reading time.

A Festival of Flags for the Fourth

Soon the sun will rise again on another Independence Day.  I'm guessing that most of us will not do anything momentous, nothing along the lines of founding a country.  It's a good day to think about how the country came into being, the incredible risk that our founders took, the amazing odds that a tiny group of people overcame.

Or maybe, given the Supreme Court rulings of the past several years, you're in more of a mind to think about the role of individual states and their relation to the larger country.  That seems like a good Fourth of July meditation too.

I've not been to many other countries. Do individual houses fly the flag the way we so often see here? Do seemingly random flagpoles dot the landscape? I confess to finding it a comfort sometimes to see that flag floating undisturbed above it all.

I like seeing flags flying on boats too. When we're with my sister, sailing the Chesapeake, we don't see many foreign flags. Would that be different if we did much boating in South Florida? I suspect it would.

I don't have many Independence Day traditions.  Some years, we see fireworks, but some years we don't.  Some years we have a cook out, but often we don't.  There aren't foods I need to make my Fourth of July.

But I do try to think about the formational documents of the United States.  My one tradition has been to hear the reading of the Declaration of Independence on NPR's Morning Edition.  It almost always moves me to tears to hear it read out loud.  If you go here, you can listen to last year's broadcast, or you can read the Declaration of Independence for yourself.



Those signers of the Declaration pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor, so great was their belief in what they were doing.  It's a good day to think about our commitments, our values, what we hold most true.

Reflections After a Day of Many Meetings

As usual, my day of many meetings was not as dreadful as I thought it might be, although it was more tiring than I expected.  We had our first work meeting at 9 a.m., and I finished my last meeting with my church's Council at 8:30 p.m.  Let me reflect on some things I learned, and I'll try to organize this post from least profound to most profound.

--Again and again, we talked about how user-friendly our new phone system is, as again and again, we had training sessions--or were they simply discussions?  I was unsure.  Still, if we had adopted a truly user friendly phone system, we wouldn't even need to bring it up.  It would be a seamless transition.  I have now spent several hours of my life in discussion (or more accurately, listening to discussions) about our new phones.  They're just not that interesting.

--We had a training video on fire prevention.  I expected not to find this as fascinating as I did.  Who knew that so many substances can burn?  I had no idea that fire extinguishers could be filled with as many different substances.  I realize that you may read these sentences as snarky, but I'm actually sincere.

--I realized how hard it is to change the direction of an organization.  How do you talk about where the company needs to go without making long-timers feel discounted?   How much should the past inform our current decisions?  How do we talk about the future without dwelling too much on the past?

--It can be done.  I ended the day in a Library Committee meeting, which was the best school meeting of the day.  We will not have as much library space in the plans for the remodeled building.  One of our long-time colleagues reminded us that when the library moved to its current location, it lost space during that move too.  And yet, we've come to see that space as more beautiful and perfect than the old space.  It's good to remember that what may seem like a blow can come to be seen as a boon.

--Throughout the day, I thought about how long I've known most of these people.  I started working at my current organization in January 2002, and I'm still in close relationships with many of those colleagues that were there at the start.  Even some of those who have retired or otherwise moved on--I still meet them for lunch or coffee occasionally.

--I am lucky that a work day of meetings that could have been grim was a day of laughter and strategizing and being with people who believe in each other.


--I ended the day with a Council meeting at my church.  We have some building issues, and we sorted them out and came up with a plan.  It's exhausting, taking care of this building.  And yet, we're a good team.  I feel fortunate.

--That's the feeling that kept returning throughout the day:  I am so fortunate.  I have colleagues at work and at church who are more than colleagues.  I am so lucky that I get to work with friends.  I am so fortunate that my church Council experience is one being part of a team, and more than a team, a group of friends who are committed to something larger than ourselves.

--Yesterday reminded me again and again that I am not alone.  I am part of communities that may seem fragile at times, but are really more robust than I can articulate. 

--The benefit to these kind of communities is that they make us stronger, both as groups and individuals.  For example, at the end of our Library Committee meeting, a friend and colleague reminded us that it's still relatively easy to have a textbook published if there aren't already lots of textbooks out there on the subject.  I know that I'll be talking about these possibilities with at least one friend in the weeks to come.  And we've got a resource in our textbook writing friend and colleague who is happy to share what she knows.

--And now, as we get ready to celebrate Independence Day, let us think about all our communities and larger institutions.  How can we strengthen them and make them more vibrant?  How can we be more like the founders of a nation than prisoners of low expectations?  How can we renew our hope?

Pre-Dawn: A Day of Many Meetings

Today is a day of many meetings.  It's the kind of day in the life of an administrator that I like least.

We have an All-School meeting in the morning.  Then we have a faculty meeting in the afternoon.  I close my day at work by having a Library Committee meeting.  And then, I head over to my church for a Church Council meeting.

In a way, I like having all the meetings done in one day.  But just the thought of it exhausts me before the day even starts.

Part of my problem is that I get to the meeting already knowing much of the information that will be given.  I wonder if I was a faculty member who primarily taught classes, would I feel the same way?  I'd resent meetings for a whole different set of reasons, I imagine.

I will take some other work with me:  transcripts to evaluate (if any came in yesterday after I left the office) and some writing projects.  But I don't work well with a meeting happening.  For one thing, it feels rude.  For another thing, there are too many distractions.

My other issue with work days that are consumed with meetings:  it's not like little elves are back in the office doing my work.  Transcripts will still come in to be evaluated.  Students with complaints will not go away.  There are reports that need to be written.  I will get back to my office tomorrow with a backlog of work, even though I was at work.

Let me take some deep breaths.  Let me remember to take deep breaths throughout the day.  Let me always be cognizant of the fact that I have a job, and my days of drudgery are thankfully few and far between.  Let me always remember that I am paid well to go to a day of many meetings.

And maybe I could go a bit further.  It's time to return to some goals that don't involve buying a house.  Let me spend some time thinking about what I'd still like to accomplish this summer.  It's been a LONG time since I sent out a batch of poems to anyone.  It's been an even longer time since I sent out my book length poetry manuscript.  I have been working on my memoir draft in fits and spurts, and I'd like to get back to a more sustained effort.

As I move through this day, let me try my best to adopt a mindset of gratitude.  I'm lucky to have this job which so rarely requires a day of many meetings.  I'm lucky to like, truly like, most of my colleagues.  I'm lucky to have a church that I like so much that I'm willing to serve on Council.  I'm lucky that I have a brain that continues to be inspired in quirky ways--maybe I'll get some wonderful poems out of this day or a scene in a short story.

Old Books and Contributor Copies

So, here's my pressing question for all of you who have been paid in contributor copies.  How long do you keep them?

I've been keeping 1 copy of each, or at least that was my plan.  But now I wonder if I should keep them at all.

You might say, "Why keep them?  Aren't they online?"  Well, no, not all of them.  Do any of them have historic value?  I doubt it, although many of the journals have ceased publication.  They might be mildly interesting to future scholars, but I doubt it.

No, my larger issue is why to keep them at all.  Once, it gave me pleasure to see them sitting on the shelf.  But now I'm moving to a smaller house, and I have less room.  I'm casting a critical eye on everything, and much of it will not be coming to the new house.

Once, before I had many publications, I thought I would go back periodically to look at my work published in journals.  I do not do that.  Once a year or two, I double-check a date on the list that I keep of every poem published.

Once, before I had many publications, I wondered if I would need to present the publications as proof.  I thought about jobs I might have that might want to see my publications.  I thought about job applications.  So far, no one has ever asked me to bring in the physical journals.

I will probably load them all into a box, label the box, and stash it--where?  My office at school makes the most sense--at least until June 2014, when we are moving to new offices.

Now, onto the next question:  what to do with antique-esque books?  They're not old enough to be truly valuable.  They don't all have sentimental value.  It's mildly interesting to see my grandfather's anthology of
British Literature that he used when he was an undergrad--but should I keep it for another few decades?  And then what will happen to it?

And then, there are the antique-esque books that I've just picked up along the way.  I can't remember where they're from, but I can't quite bring myself to throw them away.

I wrote to my friend who does interesting book-art kind of things with old books.  If she'll take them, I'll mail them.

Yes, I was once appalled at the idea of destroying old books for an art project.  Now, it seems a better fate than the landfill.  Many of the books I have aren't even valuable as books anymore--the information is outdated and often wrong.  Maybe they can have a second life, a more long-lasting life, as part of an art project.