Thinking of You, Syracuse. I Don't Miss That Garbage One Bit, Even though I Shout Admiration for All in the Digging Out Efforts

Tricia always said, "It's a rough life." She named that when she returned to Syracuse after living in Chicago, California, and even in Canada. She bought a house in Fayetteville, built a career, and always remarked, "It's a rough life." I think she was referring to the snow, and when I returned for my doctorate, I learned to agree. It's a way of life and you get used to it, but you never get over it, especially when it throws back-to-back punches as it has this year. 

One of my students in this winter session from Rochester let me know she drove back to Fairfield today, but was stuck in Syracuse for a couple of hours because it was coming down so hard. I can't believe she adventured during the thick of it, but she begins student teaching next week and didn't see any let up. "Your parents must have been petrified for you." Oh, they were.

I always hate to see such weather events hit when the schools are already closed, and no one appreciates a weekend storm. What good are they? Let it fall when teachers need a break (even though they hate extended days into the summer). 

Yes, it's a rough life. Get under the blankets, watch movies, read books, stay hunkered down. .

Only two more weeks o the graduate class. We're getting there, with a big flex needed next week as they move their research proposals forward. No lie...I'm too old for this and I need a break...like a long one...like a year. 

Shit, I'd settle for a day.

Which reminds me...I'm slowing down this weekend because I don't want to get sick. Everyone I know seems to be sick and I don't want whatever that stomach nasty is. I want good sleep. That is all. 

Okay, with that noted, I'm getting to my usual end-of-the-year traditions. More to come. 

Meanwhile, all respect for the CNY people. So, so much snow. 

Back At It. The Winds Picked Up at the 14th Hour, Too. Karal Only Had One Outdoor Outing. Another Night of Teaching Continues. There are No Words

I've figured out a way to teach winter sessions so the students actually enjoy the experience and leave the agonizing complaints to a minimum. Meet them where they are. Assist them with every move. Model the easiest way to get the objectives met. Laugh a lot. Keep it interactive and engaging. And never, ever keep them 4 hours a night for 8 straight classes. In the words of members in the Dean's Office, the winter session is just cruel. Of course, I've had to reach out to the Dean's Office (only to receive away messages until the 2nd week of January) to inquire about missing students who haven't responded to the work of the first classes. I've fortunately received responses from them. It is extra cruel knowing a majority gets the time off while my time off is not existing.

Another way I stay afloat, though, is front loading a lot of work so that our sessions fly by efficiently and effectively. This equates to a series of 14-hour days of reading their work, helping them individually, and assisting every obstacle that stands in the way. When I learned I would teach the winter session, once again, I got into the right mindset. I am a servant to the needs of 26 student for two straight weeks. In some ways, my time on Rank & Tenure prepared me for this. 

But I'm going with the world cruel as my defense mechanism with colleagues when I return. It's not only cruel on students right before student teaching, but it's cruel on faculty expected to teach the course. The change was made to be this way by faculty who are no longer with us and who moved into the Dean's Office before they departed. In fact, almost 100% of the people who made such changes are now gone. Ironically, I was used to make these changes to better accommodate the program and state requirements. 

Newsflash. It is cruel. I turn to my left and turn to my right to discuss this with colleagues and, well, they're on break and have never had to teach the winter session course. I'm being paid for my time,  but it's not the right way to go. So much has to be rethought, reconsidered, and reworked, but without others to problem-solve...I'm not quite sure what to do. 

I do know, however, 30+ years in...I'm always students first and student-up, which thankfully the students appreciate. We'll get this done...but I'm feeling the workload in my bones. 

My defense mechanisms will be better next time. I take the wrath and keep the students pacified. I hear the complaints and I'm good and cheerleading them on. But it remains barbaric and cruel. 

Now time to plan for tonight. 

Returning Home to a Mailbox of Holiday Love and the Festive Reality of an Impossible Two Weeks. I'll Do the Best I Can

My drive home was wonderful. Viola Davis's memoir was/is stupendous and I wasn't prepared for the immense emotion her story and storytelling would have on me. I'm not an actor, but I get the dedication and devotion of living a life of passion and drive, coupled with the everyday twists and turns that come at us in stereo. Luck plays a tremendous role.

I have been lucky. I have the National Writing Project behind me, plus 30 years of K-12 bliss with some of the best students and schools in the nation. 

Having to do a two and a half week research course with 26 students is almost impossible, but the challenge thrown my way. I will do what I can with the dedication I've lived my life. 

My mailbox was filled with holiday cards and I was overwhelmed with the love, photographs, and life changes of so many I've worked with and enjoyed throughout my career. Such updates are fuel for the work ahead and devotion it will take to continue excellence in the short lifetime we're all given. 

I won't take down the Christmas decorations until after the New Year, probably because I need the lights and joy to help me to sustain rhythm for instruction at a time when so many of us are exhausted, overwhelmed, and in need of a break from it all. Yet, if it is required by the University, I need to be my best to guide the students in my care. I will fight hard for them...work my tail off so they get a positive, productive experience. It's a bit overwhelming, and I know there won't be ticker tape parades, but I know it is the right thing. Class tonight and tomorrow night. We got this. 

And look at the Mutuskis. Phew...they were just in the literacy labs and now the young people are adults. Mom is an English teacher (editor of great books), and we do it for the next generation. That's what it's all about, even when overwhelmed and curious about why we give as much as we do. 

Okay, 2026. I see you. Class of 1990. Class of 1994. Class of every year ever since. What a couple of decades more. Education. Education. Education. 

That is the answer.

And Back to Viola Davis I Go. Taking Advantage in a Lull in the Weather to Rendezvous Back to Connecticut Before Monday Night's Class

My neighbor in CT sent me a video that he snowplowed my driveway. Bonus. That will be done. I'm ready to unwind on a 4.5 hour drive, finish my Viola Davis memoir (she's quite an incredible human with an outrageous story, and ready to return to a more routined life where I'm hoping for a better yer of self-care. I do hate to leave the chaos of parental care on Amalfi Drive, as I do love providing as much as I can, but the panic of the winner session has been sneaking up on me. Max and I did, however, submit the latest round of revision for an EJ article. It's in their hands again...same as the Ger Duany book chapter out for publication. 

I laugh that I bring a whole basket of clothes every time I come home, but I typically end up wearing one or two casual outfits and don't get to the week's worth I bring just in case. The same is true for the optimism in my book reads...I brought four with me and only got to two. 

Karal, though, is in need of new toys as the ones she brought with her are pretty much chewed up and destroyed 

It will be a return to a sugarless home, without cookies and treats in every corner, nor a need to grab something fried to feed the family. Back to vegetables and fruit...legumes...and everything else that won't cause acid reflux. 

And I should admit, I have enjoyed Level Up, the floor to floor holiday baking channel with Chef Ramsey. It's interesting to see how all make do with the ingredients the get on the floors they're placed (and last nice they had to operate all three...I'd go insane). 

Here's to safe travels and a mindless trip. One can hope, can't he?

Then There is the White, Fluffy Stuff in CNY (Thanks, Karal), Followed by More White, Fluffy Stuff Typical in the Syracuse Region

Karal doesn't handle being ignored well. Rhiannon and Eric came for a morning visit, and when the conversation involved the Lake Placid Money Pit House took over all attention, she was not happy. She grabbed one of mom's stuffed animal bears and tore its face off underneath the dining room table. "See. This is what happens when you don't pay attention to me. I'll show you."

Later, at Kelly's for a cranberry mojito, I noticed that the storm that is hitting Connecticut also widened to upstate New York. I was meeting Lossine for dinner, but the bastard sent the wrong address, which resulted in me driving to the middle of nowhere in Manlius...pitch black...white out conditions. Icy windshields and noway to see the roads. I called him and said, "Dude...where did you send me."

Ooops. His bad. 

So I drove home through East Syracuse-Minoa, only to on 481 with prayers I'd make it off the highway without going off the road. I decided to head to Cynde's because it was closer and stayed there until I got the nerve to drive to my parents. Of course, the worst of it was from 7 pm to 10 pm. Oh, Syracuse. Oh, snow. Oh, Lake effect. 

Phew. 

I'm glad Chitunga, Lys, and Brianna headed souther earlier in the day...to beat the mess.

And poor little stuffed animal. Karal's usually not like this, but when she feels slighted, she'll definitely let you know. 

Pulling Off a Christmas Meal for 8 - 7 Hours of Work, Total, But the Pots are All Cleaned at Leftovers in the Refrigerator

I panicked I didn't have enough. I only had 4 ribeyes, and it was the first time I used a crockpot recipe...a Mississippi one with onions and tomatoes. It definitely stews better than sirloin tips and a roast. I thought it was delicious. I made my traditional creamed potatoes which I can do blindfolded now, and tried my hands at a mushroom dish (trying to recollect the incredible meal Lars always made when I was visiting his home in Roskilde). 

Cynde, Mike, Dylan, Chitunga, Lys, Mom, Dad, and I sat down for quite a feast at around 1:30 pm. I had been prepping in the kitchen since 9 and timed it all well. I will definitely do ribeyes in the crockpot again. Some of the bites melted in the mouth.

Tunga got me a really cool set of book ends, so now I need to build another shelf. It might be time to turn in the small room between the garage and living room into an even larger library. I have three bookshelves already and they are full, but I can definitely rethink the space with taller shelves. 

Karal never received a walk yesterday, but the day never presented itself that way. It was go-go-go, and cleanup is the longest part of it all.

I will see Rhiannon this morning, Kelly this afternoon, and Lossine for dinner...weird to think there's no snow here (it all melted), but Connecticut is getting a storm. I hope it's melted before I return (but I don't think it will be). 

Okay, Friday. Always nice to have the hype and crazy behind us, so I can spent my time thinking about this winter session course. Just two and a half more weeks. We got this. 

Made It to the Holiday, and We Shall See What Comes Of It, As I Only Thought to Prepare for Three, But Apparently it is the Many

It's all good. We'll improvise. I bought three steaks for Mom, Dad, Cynde, and Me, but now think it is likely to be more of us, and well have to improvise. Whoever wishes to eat will be fed. There will be food for them. If not, we'll dip into the freezer to see what else there might be. 

We did our evening gathering, participated in a Yankee exchange, and pushed forward the merriment. Dad was able to participate in some of the festivities and came for a beer. 

It's time to start handing the traditions over to the next generation, and to allow them to take on the hooplah.

I think our generation is tired. 

Merry Christmas to all and may you find solace and calm while celebrating with your families and friends. I'm heading to peeled potato and carrot land, as well as an attempt at a Danish mushroom dish I cherished for years...one I loved while visiting the Roskilde Lile Skole outside Copenhagen. We shall see what I a concept and who will be over to feed with us. 

Here's to the holiday seasons once again. Another year has passed. 

Tis the Eve, Which in Traditional Crandall Land is the Day of Holiday Celebrations (Still Living on Dad's Airline Schedule All These Years Later)

I didn't realize the majority of people do the holiday celebrations on the 25th until much later in life. We always gathered on the 24th, did the hoopla of it all, and settled in on Christmas Day for chill time. Of course, now that we're all older and most are pulled in a million directions, the habits have shifted. Still, we head to Cynderballz today for the 'supposedly calming' tradition of a lighter Christmas Eve as Cynde is ready to wash her hands with it all and having gatherings at her house. She's ready for the torch to be moved elsewhere, which is likely to occur with Nikki and Adamo moving to Albany. 

We'll only know a year from now. 

Yesterday was a Price Chopper day (Prithe Thopper, as the locals without teeth call it). Dad went missing for a while, but he showed up with a cart of bread and jam and cookies and ice-cream. It is amazing how many old farts dressed in 18-layers of clothes wander that store in a day. Still, the crowds were light and Karal and I got a great walk in, too. Also got to see Doreen as she stopped down, and I made a stir fry for lunch with ginger, sesame seeds, chicken and broccoli. 

Thought about a nap, but a doorbell caused Karal to bark and that was a short-lived thought. 

I have to spend the morning sorting the goods I brought for gifts and creating a game plan for this year's new "Yankee swap." $50 says I end up with the garbage gift that someone thought would be funny. I'm used to the Charlie Brown life, so am already prepared for it. 

The first round of winter session student papers are arriving, and I'll get to more this weekend (kill us all). 

Here's to you, your family, your loved ones, and your friends. Here's hoping that the magic finds you and there's peace in your worlds.

Mom Will Say Otherwise, But We Made the Corn-Fritters of My Youth. Finally Know How to Make These Once-a-Year Treats

I'll never forget when I announced they should be named Corn-Shitters, because 24 hours later...you know the drill.

We grew up on Amalfi Drive having breakfast for dinner every now and then. On occasion, we had corn fritters, too, which were great with maple syrup and a couple of sausage links. I told mom I wanted them for dinner and, well, she fell asleep and then couldn't find her recipe that she swore she had. I found several online from the same time she said she got her cookbook with the right recipe. I followed that. They were delicious, and it worked. Hours later, Casey shared the one that she couldn't find and she was in her glory, "See, I told you." The recipe online was the same as the one Casey sent...just the order of mixing ingredients was different. 

I sent a photo to Chitunga and he said, "That looks like a lot of sugar." Well, the maple syrup, yes.

Dad and I went to BJs to stock up on cooking ingredients for Christmas, even though it will likely be just the three of us. It was a great day for a walk, after the fluffy snow from the night before. 

Tonight is the first night of the winter session (Just Kill Us All). Can you imagine scheduling the first night the night before Xmas eve? I can. Apparently that's part of a Modern Catholic University. It doesn't make sense to me, either. I will make it what I can. 

Okay, Tuesday. Bring forward what you may.

I'm Always Late to the Party, and That Is, Of Course, If I'm Invited at All. Most Times, I Just Miss Out, but This Time, I Win: Avatar, Fire & Ash

Two weeks ago, I read something that made me think I should check out Avatar, the blue creatures story that I missed back in the day because I was defending a dissertation and didn't have time for movies (even though the colonial part of the films was/is on par to the research I was doing). Future world...there's lots of energy and the natives live in synchronicity with the energies of the planet, even if they do have conflicts with one another. Bring in a future human race, and their marines, and then it becomes a story of trying to harvest all the energy of the world for human good...including the Tulkun, the Great Beasts. These are whale-like creatures that are hunted for their brains which harvest Amrita, a magical substance that can stop human aging.

Yes, much of it is fantastical and outrageous, but the metaphors resonate tremendously, including the military industrial complex and need to colonize other worlds after humans have depleted their own. Bring on the the indigenous Na'vi and the Nalutsa, and the faith they have in their "Mother God," and you have a story. Of course, there's some interspecies mingling we half breeds result between the series which actually work to fit the plot in the 3rd of the series. 

I'm laughing, because after watching the first, a good 13 years behind everyone else, I watched the 2nd, which I loved, and so when Lys, Bri, and Chitunga invited me to go to the 3rd...3 hours and 15 minutes and movies are now $25 a head...I went. Lucky for me Texas A&M fought hard against Kentucky and the games ended with 3 wins for the Aggies to take the match rather quickly. I took that as an omen that I should join their entourage at Destiny...yes, malls still exist.

All of this happened rather abruptly, after cooking ribs for my parents and doing a little food shopping with Cynde. Of course, when he movie let loose, Syracuse was getting lake effect snow so that was a fun drive home. It' all good.

And driving back from Cynde's I heard a ping of a rock hit my windshield, but didn't notice a crack until driving to the movies. When I got to Destiny, though, I went outside to scratch at it. Turned out not to be a crack, but some kind of hard, gelatinous gooey substance that came off (thankfully). I was singing the Safe Drive Safe Life song. Thankfully I won't need it.

But I do need to watch the Avatar series over again, because I like the storytelling and am surprised I missed dit the first go around. Definitely a fan, now. Love having the metaphor. 

Ah, now it's Monday. Glad I don't have to work too hard. 

Always Magical to See the Holiday World through the Eyes of the Youngest Generation. Spent the Evening with Malia Celine

We had Thai food. We read books. We danced. We looked at every holiday decoration there was in the house. We watched the animated Grinch.And we made peanut butter sandwiches. Such was the joy of spending the evening with Courtney, Kanyea, and Ms. Malia Celine. I also got to hear all the nursery school songs she's been taught to sing.

Lunch was spent with Chitunga and Alyssa who brought food to Mimi and Papi. Karal and I got a walk in and I was able to get my dad to return 450 bottle cans for $25. I also recorded the first class for December 23 and feel somewhat on top of the two-week insanity ahead.

Now it is Sunday...I wish I could rest day...I'm going to try and stay still day...but I know how I am. It's too easy to get caught in the crazy pace of holiday shenanigans, but I think my parents still get the Sunday paper so that should be nice.

NCAA Women's Volleyball Championship games today, as well as another rainless day where I'm looking forward to getting outside and moving. A day under blankets sounds more and more inviting each and every day I'm home. I growing tired of the dry nasal drip and choking dry cough. It's been old for a while now. 

Here's to the insane shopping days ahead for those who still are willing to face a crowd.

The Grannie Annie, Grandma Vera Vibes Are for Real. Major Flashbacks in the Childhood Bathroom in Cherry Heights.

Growing up, when my Grannie Annie was visiting, she'd often barge in while you were showering so she could get photographs. Not sure why she wanted us to post post-shower, but we would. Then, as Grandma Vera aged, she often fall in the bathroom, with the door locked, pushing all out so she couldn't be rescued.

Enter Papi Butch's era of dementia. He gets up in the middle of the night, locks the door, and shuts it so no one can enter. This is not good, given mom's bladder, so she thinks a little masking tape will keep him from doing it. Um, has he been kept from mowing the lawn daily or snowplowing? Nope. But maybe the tape will help. 

Favorite quote of the day..."Dad, you need to go around to throw away your nectarine peels." He responds, "I know. I know. Down the hall and take a right."

"Left, dad. Left." 

Couldn't help but laugh, even though today's fixation was on getting green lights for the miniature holiday tree in the window because he's tired of the white lights. 

I did get him to the bank and to purchase flowers/chocolate for Mom's 81st birthday. He told me, "All I have is $100 and I want to do something nice." Then he cried. Of course, when we got to the store he asked, "Why are we here. I told him to get flowers." He responded, "I don't like flowers." 

We got them anyways.

Mom now has her new iPad Air, 13'' screen, which is a nice upgrade. I was impressed at the ease it took to transfer items from one to the other, all because we set up her fingerprint to do so. 20 minutes max, and she's up and running.

Ah, but the temperatures sank and it's cold again, with windchill even more frigid.

Okay, Saturday. Here we are. 

Celebrating 81 Years of SudyRip! Birthday Happy, 2025, and I Made It in Time to Bake a Birthday on a Sunny, Blue-Sky Day.

Nice ride yesterday. Listened to Viola Davis's memoir, figured out more of the fancy travel gadgets in the new car, and enjoyed lighter than usual traffic, except for when I got to Cicero and the Walmart/Target traffic began. It is simply insane. Dumb. Irrational. Wild.

Today brings on the rain and winds, so I'm glad I'm already here. Looks like the joy of CNY weather for the next week, too. 

Karal is in her glory. In fact, when I packed the car starting at 9 a.m. she ran out and jumped in. She refused to get out, so sat in the car...in the driveway...for two hours before we actually left. She does love Clay time because she knows she'll get toast bits and almost half of what mom and dad eat for dinner (they can't help themselves). 

I received a chapter publication needing to be revised by Christmas (not much at all) and now the graduate school recommendations are coming in. It never ends.

Today, Mimi Sue is getting a haircut, I will be her chauffeur, and we'll celebrate her with cake (as she deserves to be celebrated)(and it won't be as crappy as Nikki and Adamo's first day in their new house with the sewage back-up).

I did my Final Four NCAA Volleyball games and remain impressed with Texas A&M...this run they're having is truly outstanding. They are hitting all the right notes at the right time. 

I snapped this photo from my father's man cave, which he hasn't inhabited in quite a long time. Always fun to adventure into that dungeon to see the way things used to be. It is as cold as it always was....same orange rug and musty smell....but so many years of total cigarette smoke and beer cans. Times change...and they do so quickly. This is why we must cherish the moments and days while we have them.

Hoping to Hit the Roads Today (There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays). Did the Last 9 hours of Meetings Yesterday & Came Home to Crash

There's no doubt that part of the lingering cold is total exhaustion. Humans are born to be productive, but sometimes the over production of individuals is cause for the decline in physical health. I'm very award of this and recognize rest, sleep, and down is exactly what I need (in the short time I have it). I'm waking up this morning starting to think about the trip because tomorrow looks like high winds and downpours. I"m not looking forward driving in a crap. Much prefer blue sky and sun, which is very rare for Central New York.

At Chitunga's request, I finally watched Avatar, and last night I indulged in Avatar 2: The Way of Water. Not sure why I missed out on the hype of the original, but it never appealed to me, but then I read something about a post-colonial critique and my interest increased. So, blankets up, pillows fluffed, and couch potato I became

I also had a wonderful lunch with the Volleyball coaches at Sophias at the Brickwalk. The muscles, potato, and leak appetizer and the bread were out of this world. Same is true for the baked cod I had. So much flavor. The service was questionable, parking horrible, but you can go wrong with their lunch specials and pricing.

I never got around to stringing all the lights around my house, part because of the exhaustion, but mostly because I needed to prioritize what got done and when. 

Okay, Theraflu. Do your thing. I know Karal can't wait to have a romp in the new car. We'll know how we're feeling as soon as this coffee kicks in and then a decision will be made. 

But heavenly joy on Earth is what I crave most and that is what the holiday is all about. 

A snickerdoodle just kicked in. I'm hitting the road today. 

I Didn't Make It to the City Last Night, and Sadly Won't See Ger (or the A-List of Celebrities). Instead, I Stayed Home an Edited (Plus Planned for the Winter Session)

There are no words, although I try from time to time scribble thoughts here to find words to describe the insanity. I will say yesterday was productive for meeting deadlines, picking up a few more holiday items, gathering for a quick lunch, and doing more preparation for the craziness of a winter session course with 25 students enrolled. They will hate me because they will hate the timing of the course. The first class is supposed to be December 23, but I will make it asynchronous. Not only are they dead, but I'm dead.

And being dead, I have to get to campus for back to back meetings until 2 p.m.. After that, I'm officially drawing a line and prepping for a road trip to Syracuse: audio books, presents, and the knowledge that my mother will say to me daily, "Don't you ever get a break?" 

I don't. Just Christmas Day. Last year was the first year that I successfully managed to NOT have any University responsibilities, and that ended up in a fiasco of bad weather, airports, and not being able to take the week vacation with Chitunga that we planned. I did get a weekend in New Orleans, though, which was nice. The tea leaves like to remind me that it's in the stars to be as it is. 

I pulled out more items I bought on Clearance last year including a village to eventually (I think) transition to Xmas decorations to be more like my Grannie Annie. I still wish I kept her little skater figurines, her pond made of a mirror, and the other tiny items she used to create a holiday scene. 

I also pulled out Tiffany Jackson's Santa in the City, as I love her writing and know this book is not like her others (no one ends up tragically dead...ha ha). 

Alright, I need to put this into the world and drive to campus. I'm tried of dry nostrils, sinus pressure, and morning snot. Story of my life. 

Here's to another Wednesday. 

I Didn't Have My Phone On Me, But am Thankful for the Internet for Coming Close to How Adorable a Stuck Sneeze is (Karal was Hilarious)

Karal has this routine where she likes to curl up at night to fall asleep. I'm usually watching basketball, or reading, or consuming volleyball matches, and it doesn't matter what I'm doing...when she's ready to go down, she wants onto my lap. 

But as she was trying to climb into my lap the other night, she got not one, but two sneezes caught before they came out and she made the most hilarious faces. Her lip caught onto her teeth, her nose was crooked, and she simply looked as if, "Why isn't this ha-choo coming out like it usually does?"

The look was precious, but I didn't capture it. I did, however, look up stuck dog sneezes and found one photo that was somewhat close. I am going with that. 

It really is a precious look, and with the two of us stuffed up, I can totally resonate. I jumped back into grant world yesterday after doing two interviews for faculty searches. I'm glad I crock-potted meat for the week so dinner wasn't a problem. Also helped Paul, the neighbor, to bring packages into his mother's house....she passed, he's in NYC, and he's having deliveries sent for later this weekend. I forgot he gave me a key.

I believe the arctic temperatures are going to depart today and that is very much welcomed, and I wonder if all the snow will melt before I make ti to Syracuse (sneezing dog and all).

I have to wrap up several items today and start to think about the week in Syracuse, hoping I can stay atop of the cold before it knocks me down again. 

But that dog face...pre-sneeze and stuck. that is absolutely precious. 

Going Into Monday with the Little, One-Night Celebrations to Cherish Colleagues and Students Who Mean the Most to Me.

Books for Max. A little "Wabbit" for Michelle. A great dinner at Grey Goose (love me some scallops) and a week worth of steak tips soaking in Trini spices for whatever dishes I concoct over the next four days. 

Max and I have been writing fiends since Thanksgiving, and with news of an acceptance makes that writing even more urgent. We got this and, well, there was that Texas A&M matchup with Nebraska and, I have to admit it, I didn't think it was possible. The Aggies were touch and, with four matches, they achieve the upset of the century. I didn't see it coming and had no idea they could that (but feel a little better that they did that against Louisville) NCAA volleyball tournament time is my new December, pre-holiday ritual. 

This morning, I need to prepare for a day of faculty interviews both today and Wednesday, as nothing really sits still in high education and every second is filled with the next layer of what it takes to sustain the work as it is I just hate having a colleague I cherish retire.

But I do have my holiday lights. They make me happy. I have a crockpot, too, and that makes me happy. In Romeo & Juliet the line that has stuck with me has always been "They falleth that runneth fast." I'm not sure there's anyway but to run fast as a means to catch up. 

Of course, there was also the Wisconsin/Texas match-up. I need such distractions. 

I have a posse of little "Wabbit" creatures to keep me going. It is an honor to give such wonder to others. Here we go, insane week. 

Grades Entered, Salmon Grilled, and a Special Trip to Companion Animal Hospital for Karal to Visit Santa (& the Elves)

My brain had me up at 5 a.m. on a Saturday morning thinking about final revisions for another publication, so I got up to go at it, but then remembered I had a student who was sick the last week of classes and I needed to attend to her work. By the time Pam came over with playtime for Rico, I said, "I need to eat and I was an omelette. Duchess diner it was. 

There is nothing better than a dinner breakfast and Pam made a good call on ordered onion rings, too. 

Afterwards, we loaded the dogs to visit Santa Clause at Companion Animal Hospital with no other than Patrick Kelly as the bearded one. I look forward to getting the pictures back. 

I stopped at PJs to stock up on another week of food before heading off to Syracuse and spent much of the afternoon grilling a salmon dinner for Leo, Bev, Pam, and I. Of course, the NCAA Volleyball tournament continues (cheering on Kentucky now, although I don't see how anyone can defeat Nebraska). Sad that Louisville lost in to Texas A & M, even thought they had a two-match lead. All credit goes to the Aggies who simply outmuscled the cards at the net. 

Today is preparation for a series of interviews of potential colleagues as one of my favorites is about to retire (I'm not ready). 

All cheers to Maddie and Ethan, who were incredible Santa helpers. All love to Ken, too, who remains one of my favorite veterinarians on the plan. He's such a great man. 

Laundry is caught up. Katniss is now equipped with Karal seating, so she doesn't destroy another car. We're suppose to have our first snowfall, but we'll see if the predictions come true. 

Happy Sunday. The days simply blur together. 

Well, I Tried. Well, I Also Survived. I Definitely Have Outgrown the Insanity of Holiday Season Ridiculousness (Oh, Our Species)

My day began writing, moved to a haircut, and then I thought, "Maybe I should stop and grab a few things at Burlington, before next week's shenanigans begin." 

Um, they have begun. I feel terrible for anyone having to work retail at this time of year. Of course, this was my life 18-22 in Central New York, but the mall culture of yesteryear seems more tame and a lot less material. Phew. It's excessively material now. The aisles were a mess and moving around was difficult. I did well, though, and got the few things I set out to get.

But then there were the lines that wrapped around the store. I can only imagine what such places endure on the weekends. God bless us, every one. 

I did find a miniature inflatable tube guy to give to Ethan, as he's obsessed like most 3 year-olds when around them. I did not know Fran had bought him the real deal...the kind that goes outside. 

I enjoyed the history book that came with the desk wagger, though, including its roots to an artist in Trinidad in the 70s. Pretty amazing that this car lot, bank, retail store, festival waving weenie was the invention of an islander and I instantly wrote to Kris to see if she knew this trivia. She did and said there's a documentary she will send me that I have to see. The inventor should be living a life of luxury, but something about global history has me believing the opposite is likely true. 

My undergrad, now grad, student and I received great, unexpected news about an article we've been working on for two years. It looks like it will be going to press and this makes me so proud - so proud, I had to reach out to Kelly to thank her for all the mentoring provided to me when I was at Syracuse. I told her she now has a grandchild in the publishing traditions.

Okay, Saturday. Bring upon me what you will. 

It's My Nature to Stick with Joy. Had Lunch with My Favor Principal Retiree and Picked Up a Peacock Stuffed Animal for a New Pup in the Neighborhood.

Finished my grading around noon, just in time for Kathy Silver to drive over, before I took her to Lil' Pub in Stratford for lunch (love my falafel sandwich) before going to Mellow Monkey in search of my older sister's birthday, got what I wanted, and nabbed a couple other gifts, including a plush Peacock for my colleague's new beagle pup, Rosemary Grace (Rosie), who is living on the other side of the Green in Stratford. She is joining Carlos, her brother, who received a Frog when he came to the area. These puppies are the luckiest dogs in the universe. 

I know I start my winter session the week of Christmas, so I'm trying to chisel some down time this weekend to catch my breath, because I'm really tired, concerned for my mental well-being, and quite frankly, deserving of a break. I wish I could say there was any sanity in where I work, but over and over again I am first-hand witness of the opposite of that. The sad part is that, because I've accomplished what I've accomplished, and achieve what I achieve, I'm the enemy of the people. 

We've entered the era of fake news being the way that news is delivered. I'm a schlep. What am I to do?

I focus on what matters most, and this week it was the arrival of Rosie and I wanted to celebrate her homecoming with a holiday gift from Santa (well, Karal)(well, me). 

Apparently it is a huge hit.

I'm off to get a haircut this morning (self-care) and then to turn the corner on holiday shopping. I canceled one major event already for the weekend and am avoiding another in NYC next week, simply because I don't have the Vitamin C in me to give any more than I'm currently giving. 

Cheers to the NCAA volleyball tournament that always keeps me spirited in this time of year. I need space. I need mental chill-time. I need support (but that has never been the way in these lands). So, I need to readjust. I also need to get better at such adjustment. 

Here's to a weekend ahead.

Thinking About Teaching Even Newer Writing 16 Years Later, After Leaving the K-12 Classroom and Entering Higher Education

There is a revolution upon us. New tools. New platforms. Alternative ways to help young people to share with others what they know and for graying folk like me, it's hard to keep up.

But I try.

In 2009, I published "Senior Boards: Multimedia presentations from year-long research and community-based projects. In A. Herrington, K. Hogsdon, & C. Moran (Eds.), Teaching the New Writing: Technology, Change, and Assessment (pp. 107–123). Teachers College Press. At the time, I addressed the ways that Powerpoint, I-Movie, Audio, and yearlong projects changed the ways I needed to approach how I taught English.

This was at the beginning of blogging, YouTube, social media outlets, Canva, and other tools available to our writers. In assessing work this semester, I'm realizing the tools have become craftier and I'm amazed by the ways young people can share their ideas with others. This includes Padlet, which has been such a great tool for multimedia presentations.

What is also new is AI support, and the reality that kids can create content by piecing together questions to essays so they don't have to do much thinking, but piece together responses they find by using such tools. I can't blame them. It's fast and mildly efficient, but the voice is robotic, it's sort of unethical (if not all the way unethical), and without personality. 

I only had a couple of students who turned in work that was highly AI-oriented and I see that as a fault in my teaching and not their contribution. They resorted to it because they didn't have the writing instruction I should have provided earlier (because I have avoided the need to address it). 

I most definitely will be addressing it in the future, as I imagine more and more kids will use tools to compose for themselves, rather than to write from an authentically intellectual standpoint. 

This all has me spinning around how fast so much of this has changed (we're running to chase a moving train) and how it will definitely impact our future instruction. I'm late to game, but need to get on it, as AI really is a nuisance. 

Why can't we simply be us? Ah, but finding a way to cheat our systems is absolutely us.

And of course I write this, with exhaustive gunk in my eye, because I've been staring at my computer screen for 14-hours grading. Such is life.

And He's Down for the Count. My Annual, Slow-Down Crandall. Get Get Your Grades In. Pass Out Exhausted. Congested. December Post.

I knew driving in to work yesterday for a few meetings that there was a flip in my body. I've been ridiculously nasal in my sinuses for a month now, but there was something else that occurred: aches, heavy-headness, scratchy/watery eyes, and then the incessant feeling that I need to hit my couch and sleep for hours. 

This is what I did. I'm on the Theraflu and Mucinex bandwagon, and I need it to subside so I can finish the last batch of projects. This is funny, because on Monday I went to the Rheumatologist and was cleared that I don't have psoriatic arthritis. I'm just old. The doctor saw no signs and actually made me feel like I was a hypochondriac. Him, and the twenty 94-year olds who were also there for a check-in looked at me like I was crazy.

But today I really am dying. The traditional crap of phlegm, phlegm, and more phlegm, so I'm keeping this post short. I need more sleep. I need to grade. I need to blow my nose.

Even hot pho I picked up on my way home to fight it off has not been enough. Of course, as soon as I hit the couch, Karal leaps atop of me thinking she's a mountain goat ready to rest atop a peak. Can't make it up. That is life when life lifes us.

Snot. Mucus. Gook. 

Could be worse I could have hidradentis suppurative.  

I've Always Had Faith in the Dragonfly (Dragonfli) and Now I Have More Reasons Why...First Thoughts After Reading WOLF CLUB by James Bird (for a 2nd time)

Last year, after I was handed a t-shirt by Dr. Don Sawyer and his Fairifleld University team that read: HUMAN KIND, I started thinking about the Jesuit word accompaniment, and the power of human belonging. I was fortunate to have a decade teaching at a beautiful school in Kentucky, the Brown School, where its 1972 foundation of diversity and equity was made central to the way I understood classrooms, youth, books, and life-long learning. We live in a nation of beautiful stories, with youth communities that are rich with culture, traditions, histories, and joy.

Superdiversity and human excellence of every learner were central of our school's mission, its shared values, and its tremendous success with students because we, as a united staff, advocated for them (yes, a public school...yes, K-12, yes, founded the year I was born).

I'm declaring my 2026 mission to be Writing Our Lives and Bravely Belonging, which I coined in anticipation of new work I want to do with the Connecticut Writing Project, especially as we question what it means to 'be' and to 'long' as writers. Being means existence. Longing means hope. Belonging is central to this Frog who sits on his lily pad. I quickly learned this from Dragonfli (D-Fli), a student during my first year of teaching. She was a freshman, self-named, and helped me to establish a pond for mentoring, belonging, and simply being (a metaphor that became my teaching philosophy, as well). That is...students are so much more that the ways our schools categorize them. They dealing with a lot at home, with friends, with relationships, with societal history, both in- and out-of school. Dragonfli was quick to guide me on how to best guide all kids, up and beyond the curriculum I was supposed to teach in school: Turtle, Bunny Boofoo, Duck, Chipmunk, Crow, Bambi, Firefly, etc. etc. etc. Kids s kept coming with new titles and new issues, wanting Frog to help. It was because of my backpack. I had no answers, but I always had questions. I was always curious how we creatures might fight serenity with the chaos that surrounded us.

Years later, I'd meet the Pelican, Dr. Susan James, who came into my life around the same time a Rose bloomed before my eyes (it was when local teachers brought Hope Nation my way). It was Dr. Rose Brock. In 2024, both Susan and Rose had me on a panel regarding the writing of James Bird. I've spent the last year devouring his books, and last night I re-read Wolf Club for the 2nd time in two weeks. I'm mesmerized by it.

I am no Ojibwe, and remain wildly ignorant of indigenous history, even as such history is central to anything and all we do in the United States. Ecological work has kept me close to the land (totally inspired by my Grannie-Annie, who lived with Odè, heart, and taught me the ways of her Ukranian ancestry, which poetically reminds of Jibaay Nagamon, the spirit songs from an Ojibwa way of life). Grannie Annie was the one who gave me Maude, the offspring of God and Mother Nature, which she named the Earth. From here, I learned the Great Whatever...my personal religion for what it's all supposed to mean. I believe in the way the cards fall before me, including the fact that I teach at a Jesuit University, always trying to add that extra 'o' to God, so I might find 'good' in the world.

I read the tea-leaves of my every day, looking for spiritual guidance as I work to belong on this marble with the the short time I have. Of course, Ubuntu, and human togetherness, has been taught to me from all the work I've done with English language learners in my work as a National Writing Project director. 

All of this is to say young people need great books. Better yet, they need phenomenal storytellers. They need those who question the truths that are placed before them, and who work to challenge who it is that are allowed to belong in our schooling spaces. This is why I've gravitated towards the word of young adult literature and a passion to build young people as writers and storytellers of their own lived experiences, so they can become champions of their own communities. In my nerd state - the academic side - I've published over and over again on an importance for building community, knowing out-of-school literacies that come from out-of-school activity systems, when tapped, best support in-school success with most learners.

Wolf Club, by James Bird, hit me from every angle (the humor, the craft, the newness, the brilliance, the education, especially the Ojibwe vocabulary and spirituality, and the care for young people who don't quite fit the molds society wants to place on them). 

In my second reading, I also stumbled upon acknowledgements, and was blown away that both Drs. Rose Brock and Susan James were shouted out for their support of the author's craft (I love to discover such coincidences). I can't t help but think about  the energy that swirls around educational spaces and the importance of knowing good people who believe in great things. 

Storytelling is at the heart of James Bird and his books, and I'm mesmerized by this the most...so much so that I want to sit around a lit fire for hours to hear more about he's come to the craft the story that he has. I'm intrigued on losing of levels, especially his reason for advocating for the underdogs...the often forgotten...the brilliant ones who are often overlooked.

I'm a fan. I knew this from his other books, and this morning before starting my day, I want to shout it out again. 

Guess who will be getting a copy of Wolf Club this holiday season? D-Fli....the young sprite who I taught for 4 straight years and who remains one of my spiritual guides to this day (but from Alaska). Zoondig'ewin, bravery. The dragonfly's tail is always a sacred story and I know I wouldn't be the creature I am today if she wasn't always fluttering by my cattails when I first started my career.

So this is just a post to the bigger pictures of everything...to the amazing writers who commit themselves to doing good for young people who are also on the road to find out. Here's to all of us who guide them (and receive guidance in return)...the teachers and academics, like Rose and Susan, who work tirelessly to make sure such books are in the hands of our readers who need them most...including me. 

Today I'm renewed and refreshed, knowing there is so much more work for all of us to do. I'm heading into the journey open-minded and ready for all the creatures still to come. Yes, I definitely have more to say about Wolf Club, than my daily morning blogpost (& ritual) allows, but it's coming. I owe it to the Aki, the World. 

We must listen to Maude even more! The answers are everywhere when we listen.

It's Official. When One Has a Craving for Indian Food One Must Remember His Stomach and Its Reaction to Indian Food

I was done in years ago with spicy bang, bang shrimp. There were four jumbo shrimp in a spicy sauce and I couldn't stop devouring them. I swear I burned a whole in my stomach that day (over a decade ago). I haven't eaten much Indian food since, but the idea of a samosa sounded about right, and they had a buffet, and I can't stop eating because of the flavors. 

At one point, a waiter came over to me and said, "Sir, you're sweating." Duh...I'm eating Indian food. 30 minutes later my stomach and intestines hated me. Misery of all miseries. I can cook Indian food at home because I control the spices, but going out is the death of me. At first, I was like, "What is this deliciousness?" but towards the end I knew I'd regret it.

I regret it. 

The green God painted on the wall is what I most likely looked like last night why I was digesting. I loved every bit. I hate every burn that wouldn't leave me afterwards.

Heading to the rheumatologist this morning and then to get a campus parking pass for the new vehicle. One class is graded and the next class materials start arriving today. 

I am in "let's lay under a blanket and read until it warms back up" mode.  I have to be smarter about my middle-age stomach. Looks like salads from now on. I think it was the green bean dish that had the spices that were the death of me. It was so good and I devoured it. Then it devoured me.

Plus I have a cold. Happy times. But this too shall pass. 

We Named This One Jack Sparrow. The Aviary Funerals are Simply a Way of Life Now. Poor Fellow.

It's somewhat comical at this point. Well, it's been comical since the beginning, but the ritual of birds somehow taking their last flight onto Pam's patio has become a place of storytelling, singing, congregation, and burial. This one had to wait, however, because I was trapped inside a dealership purchasing Katniss.

Pam started the playlist with Bye Bye Birdie from the musical. Of course, I matched her with Fly Away  from John Denver. The result was cellphone tribute as we took Jack Sparrow to his last flight, with a mourning dove on a telephone wire watching over us.

Playlist: A Top Ten for Bird Funerals

Bye-Bye Birdie - Charles Strouse

Fly Away - John Denver (with Olivia Newton John)

Freebird - Lynard Skinner

Three Little Birds - Jackson Five

Rockin' Robin - Elton John

Fly Like an Eagle - Steve Miller Band

When Doves Cry - Prince

Birdhouse in Your Soul - They Might Be Giants

Sparrow - Simon & Garfunkel

Firebird Suite - Igor Stravinsky - Toronto Symphony Orchestra

And in my day of grading, I lived the suspense of NCAA volleyball. Nothing like the powerful teams coming together for back-to-competion. Always a nail-biter and intense on the heart. After launching Jack Sparrow, however, a day of sports is the way to go (especially seeing the hitters fly like they do).  

Marquette should hold their heads high. Phew. They can play. Cards won it in five games, but dang that team from Wisconsin. They played with heart, muscle, mind, and spirit. Amazing play.

 

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!