the branch will not break,

the branch will not break, the branch will not break.

Tap, Tap

The semester started out pretty well, I thought.

I felt my class homework schedules were tight and challenging and interesting. I liked my batch of students, for the most part. My own creative writing was going to be showcased at different conferences, camps, and collaborations.

Now, I feel like everything is called into question.

My lit class needs a bit of work, and I've already made the changes to my syllabus and homework schedule to reflect more formal writing for my future classes. But, that doesn't really help me now. This is the second time I've gotten to teach lit, and I absolutely love it. I suppose I am still learning, but I've been teaching for 3 years.

I want everything to be perfect.

Always.

I want my classes to run perfectly and my teaching evals to be perfect and my students' work to be perfect. Yet, with some things this semester, I am not feeling so perfect. In fact, I am feeling like a fraud. Like any second now, I am gonna get a tap on the shoulder and someone is gonna say, "we realize you aren't doing your job and you aren't pushing your students hard enough and you aren't pushing yourself hard enough and you are a big, old, fake. So, hand in your keys, lady. You are finished."

Do all teachers feel like this? Like they are gonna get found out any second? I'm always grading and/or lesson planning and/or thinking about ways to make each class more engaging and relevant. But, am I doing that enough?

I should do more.

I want a new semester and a new start and a new committment to my classes.

I feel like things are seconds away from toppling.

The Perennials are Coming Back

So, it turned out I did have "the chiggers."

I think.

I thought only hillbillies got chiggers; I think this because my Okie cousins talked about chiggers all the time when we were little. Anywho, B and I were raking a while ago, and I was itchy for awhile, and then I painted my stomach with clear nail polish, and now I am all better.

This makes sense, right?

I am taking steps to live a more peaceful, stress-free life. I feel good about this. I have things to look forward to: snow, two more weeks in the classroom, my brother's return in January, my nephew's 2nd birthday, the P3 opening, celebrating 5 years with B. I feel better and stronger.

The Flu is for The Weak

All of a sudden, I got the chills. I like when people put "the" in front of medical conditions:

I got the diabetes!
I got the chiggers!

Back to the chills. I cannot get sick. Just can't do it. We've only 4 weeks left in the semester and I need every one of those weeks. So, I will just continue on like I am not getting sick. I will pretend my office is cold and I simply need my grandma sweater. I will soldier on. Onward Christian Soldiers! This reads like I am hallucinating, I realize, but trust me, Dear Hearts, I am not.

My sleep has been disrupted by work and social life things, and I am stressed out about nearly everything in my life, but here are some bonuses:

!BONUSES!

1. I got to snuggle that Wagner baby.

2. I am rediscovering Roxette and man oh man, do I love them, and my love for them is more easily tapped into because

3. I opened my e-mail and saw 20 bucks in iTunes love from my darling Bridge. What a lovely, lovely woman.

4. My yard is completely winterized, thanks to 4 Caliber-loads of yardstuffs taken to the recycling center.

5. Thanksgiving is next week. I will have 5 days away from the classroom and not too much grading.

6. I am very very thankful for that.

7. My wisdom teeth are no longer an issue, physically or financially.

8. Individually-wrapped prunes are on sale.

9. My car is, once again, insured for the next 6 months.

After class tonight, I am going home to a hot meal and a clean house and a pretty girl. We'll do our usual of stretching out on the couch and watching CSI: Miami.

Life is good today. Oh, life is good today.

I Believe in Miracles

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)

-ee cummings

Two friends I met down here in grad school a bajillion years ago (ok, like 6 years ago), just brought home the newest member of their family. After years of wanting to expand their family, they have. Adoption. What a beautiful, beautiful gift. The kid better get used to Auntie Lu.

Oh, November, why do you make us all cranky? It's been a gorgeous month so far: the temps, the sun (!), the leaves. You are not so kind in the classroom, though. You are not close enough to the adrenaline the end of the semester brings, and you are way too far away from the excitement the start of the semester has. You put me and my 78,000 students in a slump. And I like nice posture. I like to sit up straight. (I can't even see straight. Hardee har har ...)

My office is totally Deadwood'ed out. It's pretty sweet.

This weekend? No essays to grade, exams are all handed back, lesson plans are readied. Hallelujah. I'm making a trip to Wagner tomorrow, then a ladies' day down to Sioux City (the ladies being me, B, J to the C, and the Weez). And Sunday. Thank God for Sundays. Literally.

I feel like being super reckless with my credit card and the internet today ...

Lord, give me strength ...

Proclamations

I like how one week after a proclaim I won't be lame about my blog anymore, I do just that: be lame about my blog.

Sigh.

So, here's some thoughts. Enjoy.

I heard recently from a poet friend about someone he knew who made a poem out of all of the comments he'd written on student essays.

Brilliant! Love it!



While this isn't a poem yet, per se, this is a list of my favorites I have written:

The term "colored" is outdated and is steeped in racism.
Your mother is not a scholarly source.
Please refer to your MLA handout. Please.
You have a handout that tells you exactly how to do MLA. Please use it.
Yes!
Please review your timeline. The Civil War was nearly 100 years before the Civil Rights Movement in America.
Martin Luther King, Jr. wasn't involved in the Civil War.
I'm not making this connection here ...
Your argument gets a bit convoluted here ...
I agree!
Strong thesis!
Your thesis reads unfinished.
Enough with the rhetorical questions.

On cooking:
I feel that I am a hit-n-miss cook. I can make one hell of a meatloaf, nearly any pasta dish, and something my family calls "pizza loaf." Usually, if I am in my own kitchen, I can put together a pretty delicious meal with whatever is in the freezer and spice rack. I have trouble cooking chicken whole, however. I usually burn the hell out of it and am only just now learning that everything doesn't have to be blasted over high. I've been on a roll this week, I think. I made a lovely homemade chicken/artichoke/alfredo pizza a few days ago, and last night, I made this great basil/tomato/chicken/feta dish served on toasted bread brushed with olive oil and parsley. Mmm mmm .... Sometimes, though, I really suck. Like, I can ruin pots and scorch stovetops and set off the smoke alarms.

On that stupid Levi's commercial that degrades an awesome Whitman poem:
What, you don't have a job? Or classes to go to? You probably have an essay to write and you're running around a bonfire shirtless. GD Levi-wearin' hippies ...

On my lit students:
They are smart. Like, scary smart, and it's the dudes who have really stepped up to the plate. They are presenting on poetry this week and last, and they are breaking out the hard stuff: Shelley, Bukowski, cummings, Rossetti, Yeats, Dunbar, Whitman. And they are just laying it out for us, like bam! I heart them.

On my new career as a potter:
Yup. A few more lessons and I'm gonna hit the street sales circuit.

Home Stretch

I no longer want to be lame about my blog. I am making a more concentrated effort to update it regularly. I don't think I can even blame it on FB; I think mostly I am tired of thinking and writing, so writing for pleasure gets set on the ol' back burner. I have a story seed, about a young man with an old man's name. I think I will break it out for Milton in a few weeks.

Big essays are due in 4 of my classes this week. Studs are freakin' the eff out. Their computers are eating documents; they aren't even bothering to show. Sometimes, they scare me. Sometimes, I wish they would come to my office hours.

What I did during office hours today:
graded 2 essays
got handouts and lesson plans made/copied/updated for class next week
ate some individually-wrapped prunes
stared at the wall
re-watched last night's episode of Glee

I am expecting a student soon. We will see.

I am going to Wagner tomorrow to lead some high school teachers in a writing workshop thingy. Two very good friends from grad school live there and have restored this beautiful old farmhouse. Maybe I will be their guest for a night. Or at least for dinner. Me and B visited them this summer, and we're overdue for another one.

This weekend is D-Days. I am thinking about fleeing town. I mentioned this to Bridge, but she is afraid that if we leave, some drunken mob will either:

a.) burn down our house
b.) move into our house
c.) drown in the birdbath













These are all legitimate concerns. So, maybe we will stay put.

I teach my last class of the week in about an hour. Then, aha, a 4-day weekend. Thank you, South Dakota, for honoring Native Americans.

Thank you, Jesus, for taking the wheel.



Thankyouthankyouthankyou.