Had to Say Bon Voyage to the Hulk (Kermit). Welcome Katniss Nevergreen (Because She's Blue) and the Turning of a New Leaf

It's been an interesting 24 hours in the Crandall household. Went in for an oil change, but learned that necessary repairs (emergencies) would cost more than the car was worth. I could pay the repairs, maybe keep the car (my Hulk, my Kermit) alive for another year or I can do the big boy thing and start anew. These are the battles of car ownership. I've had the Hulk almost as long as I've been in Connecticut. I just didn't see the financial benefits.

So, I went with a 2025 Crosstreck Wilderness mobile to help me navigate another 15 years. Not my favorite thing to do: to commit, to spend money, to be selfish in my decision-making, and to take a chance on another decade of travel. But I did it. 

Katniss Nevergreen has arrived and she's in my driveway. We won't discuss the stress of dealerships or the the frustrations of insurance actually taking our calls, but after two days all I settled, and we move forward with Chase banking, new car payments, and the fear of driving a new car (because she is so pretty). 

I wish I could say I had more hours in the day NOT spent in a dealership, but the last two days have been rather frantic and fast. 

I am proud of my purchase, hopeful for the future, and totally engrossed in NCAA volleyball. It was a later time for the Fairfield Women's Stags as St. Thomas put up a tremendous fight and took it to five. So, I had to stay up late to watch the girls I've loved supporting to face Minnesota (the home team for this arm of the tournament). 

Such is life. Technology in the new cars are something else...and I will learn. I am awakening this Saturday with reflection, wonder, worry, and hope. So, it's a normal Saturday. 

I love the new whip (in the terms of the boys who always refer to my driving machine in such terms). Let's see what adventures we can have. 

I haven't even had a chance to explore these new wheels, but that is what the joy of life is all about. The days are coming. 

And Just Like That, Fifteenth-Year of First Semesters at Fairfield University Comes to a Close: It Doesn't Seem Possible, But Here We Are

I hosted another Explorations Summit yesterday, welcoming another generation of potential teachers to southern Connecticut. We did round-tables, and all the inquiry projects were presented on a cold, yet productive morning. The students were exhausted, and I could feel their days after the holiday break, here comes finals, energy. Phew. They are exhausted (and I suppose I am wiped out, too). 

I came home to watch NCAA volleyball, after stopping at a mall to get Mimi Sue's birthday gift. Malls? What happened to them? I feel like I grew up at Sibley's, a May Company, during a time when Malls were the thing. It was a ghost town, and I was spooked by the lack of stores and the evidence of a time that is no longer. 

Then again, the Great Northern Mall, which basically helped me fund my undergraduate degree at Binghamton University, is a way that is no longer. What once was thriving, booming, and thrilling, is now a relic of the past. Crazy to think such a culture is not even a figment of the new generation's memories. It was good to me and it took all my energy not to treat myself to a Cinnabon.  

Of course, this puts all of us into a consumer culture. I don't thing today's generation consumes in the same way as I made commentary on a student's hoody that read "All Boys Lie," in which I learned it was a brand that I never heard of. All boys and girls do lie.

I'm heading into this Friday ready to grade, making big decisions for a vehicular change on a dying hulk, and simply thinking about the routines of it all. Teaching excellence remains an excellence I believe in and I'm invested unto that. 

What a life. And it's NCAA Volleyball season so I have that distraction. More to come on Saturday. 

Thankful to the Bronx Whitestone for Not Being As Bad As Could Be in the Annual LaGuardia Drop off of Chitunga After Thanksgiving

It's a good thing he travels midweek and arranges flights that are in the afternoon, allowing for an airport trip at better times of the day. It's only 56 miles, but those 56 miles can last hours at certain times of the day. We left around noon and I had him there by 1:15, which was a record. I was also back at the University by 2:30, which I'm thanking the Great Whatever for providing. The multiple lanes, crazed drivers, frustrated New Yorkers, and all-over-the-place signage can make for a wonky time. Last year, as I left the airport, I was direct to Manhattan and had to loop back to I-95. I didn't want that to happen again.

I also am not a lover of being on bridges, high up over water, with wall-to-wall traffic high winds. It's white-knuckle driving and I hate it. 

Dropping Chitunga off, I looped back around in a more sane way and was happy that the GPS on my phone returned to a more normal route and set of operations. Of course, crossing the Whitestone again always makes me feel like I'm driving up a roller coaster. As soon as I'm on the other side I'm like, "Okay...now we can get home with less stress." I feel this way when crossing the bridge into Newport, Rhode Island, and don't even get me started on the bridges driving to DC. All my claustrophobic tendencies kick in and I simply want to chill out.

Which was easy to do once I hit Connecticut, because the roads are paved, there are less NY potholes, and even with crowded lanes, the straight-away is normal to navigate (we do it daily). 

I've been on the Merritt an I-95 when I've wanted to pull my hair out. That was not the case yesterday. There were a couple of hiccups, but it was not the insanity that it most often is. 

But I'm off to work early. Last 8 a.m....and need to leave at 6:30 a.m. to go the 14 miles, because you never know about CT morning traffic. 

The lives we live. And here I go. 

Oh, and I should say that I found a nice photo over the water...it doesn't look this nice from the Bronx and above.

Must Be the Last Week of Classes Because It's Time for Workshops and Cake. One More Class to Go.

This morning is Chitunga's last day at home. I love that he arrived for his birthday, stays a week, and makes a way to see his ol' stomping grounds and friends. I love that Lys comes and visits, too, and they settle into a Karal tradition. There are perks, too, to having my car kidnapped so I am forced to sit home and get work done (says the man who hit submit on two projects this morning). 

Stopped by the Mahoney for the last volleyball practice on campus, before they leave today for Minneapolis. They're excited and I got to hear about the scout reports they are working with. Gave them Christmas gifts and then headed to class.

After class, which reminded me of being in an airplane, redeye, in when everyone is trying to sleep, the students were library-quiet getting their work done. It felt strange. 

Afterwards, I came home to get Chitunga for one more out-to-dinner event. He selected Paradise Pizza, and we had a good white pie with spinach and tomato, and a gorgonzola salad. Good call. 

Now I get to drive him to Laguardia for his afternoon flight and return back to the Homefront to prep for tomorrow morning's class. Pray to the traffic Gods for smooth sailing. At least the rain has subsided. 

As for the cake...it was a small crew, but they devoured it. I need to up my cake-came, as I rely to much on this recipe, but it works. They're happy and I'm happy. 

Happiness is what we all should be seeking these days.

Entering the December Season of Tranquil Lights by the Tree and a Dog Who Seems to Chill with the Season Like I Do

For those of us in literacy who present at national conferences, only to return to the hectic nature of turkey opportunities, I always welcome the addition of lights and evenings (that are much darker, much sooner) on Mt. Pleasant. For the past week I've enjoyed evenings with Chitunga, Alyssa, and Karal, and soon after the departures, it will be me, the dog, and the tree. I need such peace in my life as last classes are taught, end-of-the-semester, frenzied meetings are the norm, and all those projects come in for grading. 

I know others enjoy similar traditions.

I will be teaching the last YA Literature class tonight and will follow with the last Explorations class later this week. I know the close-to-the-end return home for many, brought them back to the reality that so much is due rather quickly. The organized and planned have worked on this to relieve the stress. Those who are last minute, have a trickier time contending with the stress of it all. As a student, I was not a fan of such stress so I paced myself accordingly. I realize as a teacher, though, that is not the norm as procrastination and the road to good intentions are much more common.

I am thinking of all laboring to get in the work at this time of the year and my fellow academics biting their nails that the turn-around for grades comes quickly. 

This is why we need our lights, holiday music, a good bottle of bourbon, and the ability to inhale/exhale, because this too shall pass.

There are times I wish I had it as easy as Karal. She lives a very embattled life, indeed. 

First Ever Selection Show Sunday in Support of the Fairfield University Women's Volleyball MAAC Championship Team.

I was honored to be asked, as faculty liaison, to attend the NCAA tournament selection show as teams learned their placements across the nation. I had my fingers crossed for Louisville, Kentucky (or even Lexington), but they were selected to play the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis on Friday. I looked up flights to the city (and to Chitunga in Iowa) and feel I'm better off watching the tournament at home. If it was at either Kentucky site, I'd find a way to make it happen. Both Louisville and Kentucky are ranked high once again this year, and it would have been great to have a weekend of volleyball and to see ol' friends.

I'm still confused by how they determine the cities that will host the first couple of rounds. I was lost because we were in the Pitt regional, but this excluded the Kentucky teams (even if it's not that far away). I guess there was never a chance to be selected for the bluegrass, so the Stags get Minneapolis. Humorous to me is to stand with the coaches as the teams were selected...I love hearing inside commentary. Also wonderful to see the excitement when the location was selected and three girls on the team cheered because it was close to their homes.

I'm thankful, though, because I have all the channels necessary now to watch the games, which is one of the reasons I jumped onto streaming services for the winter months.

For those wondering, the temperatures in the northeast have dropped and the gray, rainy days make it somewhat miserable to be motivated to do anything. It's cold, and I know I'm slowly being pushed off my front porch where I like to live my academic life. The girls, however, had to practice after the selections were announced.

Yesterday was spent writing. I have two students almost ready to hit submit on publication projects and I'm feeling somewhat ready for the agenda ahead, although the two faculty searches I'm on (plus Academic Council) are taking up most of the week. I am ready for the meeting phases of the semester to come to a close, as they are nuisance and time-consuming. I hate that I've become anti-meeting, but I'm still not sure how much they accomplish. We might all learn from Dr. Robert Nazarian from the Center of Climate, Coastal, and Marine Studies. He hosts the most efficient, knowledge-producing gatherings.

Chitunga and I grabbed a late lunch at Dockside and then he came home to fall asleep as I drove to campus for the selection show. That was a new experience and I'm happy for the team. If they win, and St. Thomas wins, perhaps Dr. Yohuru Williams and I have a bet to make...they will play each other in round II.

And look at that. It's December again! Go, Stags! Go!

All These Years Later and I Learn the Baby Messiah Is Supposed to Be Covered Until Christmas Day. I Live and I Learn.

I love that my Aunt Bobbie gave me my mother's nativity set that she made for them when they were younger and first starting out their homes. This is the power of ceramics and I was honored to take the set when they were moving west and downsizing. It moved from KY, back to Syracuse, and is now with me in Stratford. Yes, there are broken bits and parts all over the box and most recently a Wiseman (from the Orient) has lost his head, but there's glue and I keep the scenes going.

Years ago, I kept my New Year's cat in the scene because the sunlight makes him wave his arm. I also added adult Jesus when he arrived to me on wheels (it's the foreshadowing, I say). Last year, Patrick and Kaitlyn gave me a Gollum figuring from Lord of the Rings because they know my obsession and wondered if I could find a way to use him in my nativity narrative. To be honest, Gollum is wobbly and can't stand up without the guidance of adult Jesus so he's holding him up. I am thankful.

New this year, too, is the Jesus candle given to me to cleanse my home, and because of this, Santa Claus, who usually makes an appearance was put back some. Mr. Snowman, with his glittering lights (which used to be my only holiday decoration) is the shining light oversees the entire set.

Last night, Pam pulled together a pot roast gathering, and I had everyone finish off my key lime pie. I came home to watch the Stanford / Louisville volleyball game and am prepping for the last week of classes for the semester. I spent most of yesterday in preparation, too, as the planning is what sets up the best last class. I need to pivot quickly. 

It's been a wild ride from conference session to holiday Brussel sprouts, but it's time to get back into action starting now. 

This is, until "Christ the savior is born." Looking forward to Syracuse time to come.