Mr. King Carried Very High. The Birth of the Twins Was a Success, Though...Almost Eaten by a Shark, But So It Goes in the Twighlight Zone of a Crandall Script

Yesterday was all about dialogue and this morning is all about student agency and advocacy. We ran our annual script workshop, and it's always a pleasure to try something new. This year, we followed up on last year's mock-wedding of Jess and Will, so that he could be the one who carried the babies. Of course, all the kids think two of my graduate students are siblings (twins) and so the punchline was that Will gave birth to them. There needs to be something to drive the plot. In truth, we simply want to give every kid a role, so they can speak loudly as part of a performance. I'm excited, too, that my Creole, Portuguese, Spanish, and Dari translations (and lines) worked. It's so beautiful for all of us to hear the cacophony of languages. 

Eve was supposed to be a nurse that delivered the twins, but all the stethoscopes disappeared so I had to make her a wizarding midwife....hence the wand. Not sure how it is Mr. King but the kids up so high on his chest. Definitely hadn't dropped yet. 

I know the temperatures are dropped this morning, but I grew up where incredible storms came through to make such a change happen. The bad boys split above us and below us, not evening bringing rain. They looked intense, but we didn't get to experience any of them. Ah, but we have livable temperatures for the upcoming week (which will be nice). 

Definitely have missed Abu's presence this summer, especially on the Homefront to keep me focused and non-resentful. He has eyes that see all that is going on, and always reminded me that our programs are sort of miraculous. This year, I've had to step up more on numerous occasions...not only for my programs but to fill in for classes at Bellarmine. I love the ability to give, but it's been over the top this year...hard to direct, organize, assist, coach, mentor, guide, and work with University bureaucracy when I'm in charge and on the spot six hours straight each day.

But there are only two more days left. I've been singing this in my head all morning: Two more days. Two more days. 

At least I'm not fasting this year (although I think another fast would be good for me).

Hey, look at that. July is already over.