And I Found My Whip for the Apocalypse (If I Make It Far Enough to Experience It). I Will Call Her Octavia & We'll Leap Forward Until the End.

My full name is Cadence Sinclair Eastman. Actually, it's not, but I finished E. Lockhart's We Were Liars last night, and I'm glad I did (at the recommendation of Joanna MacKenzie). I did the audio book and it was engaging...so much so that I broke my rule of being outside in the world without headsets. In fact, as I fed Leo, Bev, Pam, and Shirley with grilled chicken, beans, Cole slaw, and sausage, I was Mickey Mouse. I wanted to finish because I was engaged. 

Not sure if I was enthralled (I'm really not one for stories of wealth and privilege, even if they are murderous), but as Joanna said, "The writing is good." It was. And I'm interested in the fact that I met the author first, before reading the book that put her on the map. I'm more intrigued in the mind of the individual who would write such a story...obviously well-educated, in proximity of old money, and in the know of power structures and how they operate. I'm also not a romance/love story reader, which Liars has, but I can say I didn't anticipate the narrative arc. I was surprised, if not frustrated. I think I'm perplexed at times -- not because of the good writing -- but why some books appeal to the masses in the ways that they do. I'm wondering if this is a story that appeals to adolescent girls and adult women, because it somehow hits all the societal expectations placed on them...if it is fantasy and desire...or if it is Bertha, the mad woman in the attic. Maybe it is all of that. I definitely picked up on the King Lear vibe, too. I'm also very interested in how its appeal resonates with urban readers who are often far removed from the privilege the characters live. 

Ah, but I found a frog car and want it to ride into the sunset at the end of the world. Maybe Nostradamus or Baba Vanga have crossed celestial predications of the future and we are living the insanity of how it all ends right now in 2025. Then I think about Chicken Little, each phase of my life, and how the sky always seems to be falling. There's always emergencies and panic and conspiracies and dire warnings. Perhaps a fear of the end is what drives us all.

In Connecticut, we have Chinese Lantern Flies not only taking over August with their checkered read and black wings, but their nymph-spider phase landing on everything. Invasive. Gross. Abundant. New. It didn't used to be this way.

Then I read an article about how fireflies are on their way out. Human chemicals have done too much for their habitats and they are not expected to survive as a species throughout my lifetime.  I like my fireflies, and I'm hoping this is not true and part of human paranoia because we're such a sick species. 

The recovering environmentalist knows that a removal of humanity is a saving grace for nature and the world....species beyond our barbaric ways. I suppose those of us in the humanities fool ourselves in believing that there's also good in human kind...I know that is true, but when the vicious and ugly hand over the narrative to Sauron and the orcs...well, I'm not optimistic on what comes from it all. I just know that my nature is more Charlie Bucket than Veruca Salt and her wealthy father. 

Ribbit Ribbit. Vroom Vroom. Blog Blog Blog. Write Write. Hope Hope. We will never know if the efforts we put forward in our time on earth will carry forward for the good of life and survival. Not when we have canines and a psyche with id, ego, and superego. Not when envy exists, power, and a battle for owning truth for the temporary gain of a few. 

And that's why I am glad I found a frog car online that I wish I could build for myself at the end of the world. 

70 Degree Nights, Fresh Air, A Wonderful Porch Couch, A Dog, and Listening to Audio Books While Thinking About the Universe. It's Simple Really

I've been distracted in almost all I've been doing the last few days because I've wanted to find ways to get back to E. Lockhart's Liars series. I'm late to the game, but with he right storytelling I can be lured into being auto-tuned (and obsessed) with not doing anything else but reading (or in this case, listening). I'm loving it, and after a morning of my own writing, an afternoon walking with a colleague and his 1 year old son, followed by a fish fry (which I should know better about eating), a night on the patio soaking in the luxury of good storytelling and comfortable temperatures is simply irreplaceable.

The Class of 2005 had their reunion yesterday and I loved all the photos sent my way and the connections made. They apparently played the video I made for them at the event, prompting all the correspondence (I sent to Jess and Jonica, who organized the event). It prompted a weekend of much reflection for me, the wonders of time and human growth, and the never-ending pursuit of making meaning from it.

Karal, the sidekick, loves when I lie on the couch, because that means she can lay on my chest and stare at me until she falls asleep (hence this Sunday photo).

We're expecting a beautiful day, and I imagine this might turn into a beach adventure (as such opportunities only come during part of the year). I'm promising myself that if I'm a good boy and get on top of the institute's game for the week (18-hours of straight instruction followed by 140-hours of literacy lab work), then I can afford a little time on the beach. I lost last night to storytelling and breathing in the rare cool, summer air that only occasionally comes through the windows in June. I love to soak it all up. 

Here's to doggier days of summer. I enjoy them more than most.

Low Key Friday Night, Spur of the Night Gatherings are the Best Part of the Summer Swing, Especially When Temperatures Cool

Pam pulled her family crew together for a hotdog, Brisket gathering and, after manning the grill, we had laughter with good food and company. It's been so hot that the majority of us have been hiding in our homes. The air was cool yesterday, so I was able to mow the lawn and get yard work done after a day of grant writing, revise and resubmits, and summer planning. 

Patrick & Stephanie's kids are getting so big, as are Kaitlyn's and Dominik's. Pam's puppy, Rico, in the mix, makes the occasion even more joyful (and Patrick and Steph brought Maude, who we all love - little rugrat that she is). 

They are calling for storms and rain this Saturday, so I'll likely hunker down and get more of the summer preparation in gear. Last night, however, it was about chasing the joy of kids, living life for their enthusiasm and curiosity, and making sure they don't make too much of a mess with all their playing.

Shirley is in town, and it's wonderful to have her back in CT after her retirement to Florida. Boy, is she tan...definitely embracing the life in hotter temperatures and the availability of pool side days.

And as I write I'm looking at all the bird poop stains on my windows and thinking I need to get out there with a hose. I'm not sure if they angle in to modernize the glass, but they sure to paint with precision. It's gross and needs to come down.

Ah, but I'm loving the house sparrows that have built a home in the frog birdhouse that Dr. Beth Boquet bought for me. I didn't think it would get inhabited, but there's a full family in there (now I just need to capture some pictures.

It Was One Thing To Celebrate My 20th High School Graduation, But to Be Invited to the Class of 2005's 20th...That Is Just Insane

I'm unable to travel to Louisville, although the reunion of the Class of 2005 offered a temptation. Their reunion is this weekend, but it's all the beginning of my busiest season, which says a lot because all seasons tend to be exceptionally busy.

I've spent the last week collecting thoughts to make a video for them, so I can be there in spirit and I realized something digitally interesting while doing this. I have photographs galore from 1995 - 2004, but such practice ended in 2005, when I started shooting video and not hoarding photographs from CVS print shop. I went from physical to digital, and I have very few memories of this time, having done all the work in mini-DV form (which I've yet to convert for this generation's way of consuming).

I was 38 for my 20th, which would be the age these kids are now. When I had them in school, I was 32 and 33 years old, younger than they are now. And yet, like all the classes, they trusted me as having something to offer them. 

This was also the largest crew I ever took to Denmark. It was a blast, with only a few incidences, and I miss the Nordic ways of my summers when we went there each year and in the Fall, when we hosted the Lille Skole's 10th grade class.

We can always say it was a different time then, and sadly almost all of the teachers I worked with overseas are no longer with us. The connection to that home away from home is still in my heart, but no longer a part of my routine. 

This is true of the Brown School, as well. Two years after they departed the corner of 1st and Muhammad Ali, I parted, too...for a doctorate. And in these twenty years since they were seniors in my care, much has changed not only for them, but for me. Everything Brown, however, stays to the core of who I am as an educator, philosopher, thinker, teacher, and human being. That school molded me into a better creature upon this planet...the kids, Martha Ellison's vision, my mentors Sue and Gay, and the incredible leadership of Ron Freeman. 

And I'm thinking a lot of things. I knew Laurie Wade because Jess (who graduated in 2005) was a student at the Brown School and she came to my nature camps when she was little. Laurie is the one who sent Sue to look for me at the Louisville Nature Center and, long story short, Sue took me under her English teaching wings and parented me as an educator, a 2nd mom, and a man in his 20s and 30s. 2005 is special, because Jess was in the class (and was on my volleyball team as well as in my classes before she graduated). 

Coincidences. That's the theme for my video I'm creating for their reunion. It was close to the time of I HEART HUCKABEES coming out and many of the film-loving students quickly noted there was a Sudanese actor in it. Well, that's Ger...and Ger became a brother during Covid. Go figure.

There's meaning in everything and meaning in nothing. It is what it is and for that, I am thankful.

Blink of an eye. Twenty Years Ago. Dang. 18 years since I left that scholastic utopia. Still know it was the best decision for me at the time, but PHEW...how luck am I that I had so many brilliant years with such a beautiful school. Dang. 

Waking Up To Say I Survived the First Heat-Wave of Summer, Make it Back to CT in One Piece, and Am Ready to Take on July with All I Got Left in Me

The trip back to CT started to see a dip in temperatures around Albany, only to resurface again once hitting Connecticut. It read about 102 the entire time afterwards. At 8 pm, it was still 92 degrees, and although I saw thunder bumpers building in all directions, they all went south and north from here. With highs in the 70s tomorrow, I know something needs to break the stagnant air. 

Maybe it just breaks. I don't know.

I finished The Brave by James Bird on the way back and am halfway through We Were Liars by E. Lockhart. Love the ways both writers write, although their styles are miles apart from one another. Different craft and remarkable talent, both. I told Chitunga I wanted to drive for four more hours to finish We Were Liars, but I figured out how to get my phone app to play on indoor speakers, so I can listen while I cook and clean most days.

The lawn needed mowing, but there was no way I was going to do that last night. I simply made a sandwich, remained in low-key mode, and decided not to sweat any of this out if I don't have to (although choosing NOT to walk Karal seems harsh...but it remained too hot for a dog walk, even for me and my Kentucky mindset). 

I also went to campus last night to get materials delivered so I would make use of the evening hours in preparation for the 158 hours in the month ahead...

...what I do for love...what I do for love...

Okay, back to my cerebral game...edits are all in, now for the play-by-play of five weeks of CWP traditions!

Once Again, Another Round of Amalfi Drive Comes to a Close and I Need to Return to Mt. Pleasant for the Insanity of July Programs.

Got some cooking done...some cleaning...some shopping...a lot of writing, planning, and organizing. There were the ridiculously hot walks, too, and a few good meals from the usual (and not as usual) places. Mom's Mother's Day clematis (dad has another word for it) is blooming still...30 years and counting, as that was a gift from my Kentucky days, when I started my hands at a green thumb. 

It will still hit 90 today, but I'm hoping the heat won't beat down on the car like the last few days. I just need to roll into Mount Pleasant and unpack all he materials that arrived to my office on campus for this summer's work.

I'm hoping to finish one book about two hours home, and start another right away, but curses on my 2014 Subaru not aligning with my updated iPhone. Frustrating, as I like to listen to my books louder than my phone will make it. Alas, I adapt. I have earphones, but I don't want to drive with them on, because I'd rather be fully alert. 

Had a brief encounter with Karl and another with Fred, but otherwise the day was rather still (like the air). Oh, and they put both hash and Manwich in the aisle next to tuna fish because, well, that makes absolutely no sense. I look everywhere until I finally yells, "I give up. Where would these items be?" I would never have guessed by the fish cans. Go figure. 

And I know my lawn will need mowing. It needed mowing the morning I left, but it was raining. But I will return to a clean home, and that is always nice...Won't be any Bucky hair either, because I vacuumed all that up before I departed. 

I'll be taking off in 3...2...1

Ladies & Gentlemen. Chubby's Has Reopened So My Father Could Have a Beer (Then I Took Him to The Waterfront for Dinner)

At 100 degrees, the hottest part of the day, my father decides to pull out his push lawnmower. I heard in stereo, "Go stop your father!" I did, but it cost me a drive to Chubby's because it reopened and he's been asking me to take him every day.

Dylan met us there, and convinced Papi he didn't want Val's chicken wings, but they should go out for fish, instead. As a surprise to both of us, he agreed, so we ended up ate The Waterfront where they got fish and I got mussels with angel hair pasta. Delicious. Impressed by the CNY ability to prepare the mussels.

It was definitely a hot one. I didn't walk Karal until the evening and spent most of the day editing three articles heading for review. So far, the feedback on all three has been great. Looking forward to getting them set free.

Also grilled mom scrambled eggs, as it was all she could stomach after a day of horrible stomach issue. I rarely make eggs because I associate them with the morning and I DON'T DO MORNINGS.

Spent the vast amount of the afternoon working on summer, CWP stuff only to be stopped over and over again with emails of people away for the summer or on vacation, or with messages saying the campus budget is frozen, as it is the end of the fiscal year. This always greets me with such happiness, as my summer work quadruples the amount I need support, but there's none to be had in the school where CWP is housed. 14 years of frustration and it is the same as it ever was...the only thing I've been able to fix is my attitude, but it seems absolutely insane that there isn't more concern for faculty and their programs.

Ah, stress is never worth it, especially when I see the good it brings teachers, young people, and the schools I continue to work with. I've learned to work around in order to have the work get done. And those I talk to listen, make promises, and then absolutely nothing happens. 

Ugh. It's simply maddening.