We are just back from two days in Madison. Buddy was lucky enough to have his own special Tirza-sit. He came away from the weekend with the new nickname: "snuggle bunny."
It was really good to get away for a little bit; Madison is a great city, and we enjoyed eating our way through the weekend. (The highlights: good Nepalese food on State Street, Kale and Greens and the Farmers' Market, and fresh dolmas at the Willy Street Co-op). It was also good to come home. As we turned onto Shore Drive after the last leg of the drive (we stopped for Chinese food at Chef Chu's in Green Bay, a restaurant whose name made us giggle in its similarity to our friends name -- Jeff Chiu) we talked about what it felt like to return "home." It is beginning to feel like a real home -- both through time and sweat equity -- and now we are ready to share it with our friends.
Which brings me to the second part of this entry. There is a lot going on in the lives of our friends. In addition to the previously-blogged mention of births, we have neglected to make any mention of other big, life things. Emily Hughes is 1-year cancer free!!!!; Sari Gold is a doctor; Beccalena moved to Berkeley; Gaby and Kaushik are recently without a home because of a fire (they are okay -- i still think they should come and stay here for recovery!); Ben Dorn got married; Natalie and Meg are becoming dog-mamas; and, last but not even a little bit least, Tricia and baby-Rio are coming from Northampton on Thursday to be our first house guests! The moral of the story? Buy renter's insurance, celebrate the good things, and come visit us!
xoxo
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Sunday, September 23, 2007
students
pregnant. addicted. virgin. autistic. hearing voices. unable to get pregnant. published. domestic violence. single mom. caretaker. felon. divorced. Iraq vet. broken heart. laid off. honors student. drinking. slacker. religious. first generation. Native. dyslexic. never read a single book. high school dropout.
These are some of the things my students have told me about themselves.
These are some of the things my students have told me about themselves.
been a long time...
Another week has flown by. We have already completed three weeks of school. I have 47 ungraded papers in my bag to show for it. The week has been good, bad, and ugly. I think we are both struggling with our new and shifting roles as full-time teacher and stay-at-home domestic diva. I come home exhausted and needing to veg. Rhonda has been at home all day dealing with a range of projects from painting the bathroom to mowing the acreage to baking bread and feeding the masses (on a tight budget). I want to be helpful but am, at times, lazy. Rhonda feels overwhelmed with the amount there is to do in this old, needin'-updating house.
And there are the good things. I have funny stories to share about my crazy students. I have good teaching days where I feel inspired. Rhonda finds moments of relaxation in the woods. She has made several killer loaves of bread and new dishes (beet risotto!) that bring inspiration and good eating into our day.
One success in our week is that we finally finished the bathroom. It took so much longer than we thought, in part because of the surprises: the bathroom fan that David and Rhonda installed took several days to cut through the walls, wire the ceiling, etc. The wallpaper was a pain in the arse to get off. The walls underneath were damaged. There was drywall repair and paint consultations. Lights and fixtures were ordered online. We re-fabbed the sink and installed our own, new faucet. And then there was the shower curtain: we found the ideal shower curtain more than a month ago. But every Target in the midwest was out of it. We made lots of phone calls. We tracked it down.
Today we put the final touch on our new and improved bathroom. We found this enormous, heavy mirror at TJ Maxx for a super-clearance price of 5 bucks. It weighs at least 25 pounds and required hours of retrofitting to make it secure. We used a stud finder to locate the right mounting location only to find out that the studs stop halfway up the wall (WHY? WHY, I implore you?). After all of the effort that we put into this tiny bathroom, it was the mirror that brought us to the edge of our collective sanity. However, we persevered and jerry-rigged and alas, we have a centered, secure, level mirror. And a fully-functional bathroom. This is a huge luxury after weeks of having to pee under a ladder (in the mid-painted bathroom, not outside) and showering in the basement's farmer's shower. The end product is quite lovely. It is a space that feels clean and simple. It is pretty hard to capture the room well -- it is small and bare which doesn't necessarily lend itself to photography. However, here are some before and after pics:
Wall and light fixtures: Old = stripey wallpaper and globe lamp
Old, pearlized sink with coppery faucet; new, brighter and simpler fixture and sink top.
The final product:
And there are the good things. I have funny stories to share about my crazy students. I have good teaching days where I feel inspired. Rhonda finds moments of relaxation in the woods. She has made several killer loaves of bread and new dishes (beet risotto!) that bring inspiration and good eating into our day.
One success in our week is that we finally finished the bathroom. It took so much longer than we thought, in part because of the surprises: the bathroom fan that David and Rhonda installed took several days to cut through the walls, wire the ceiling, etc. The wallpaper was a pain in the arse to get off. The walls underneath were damaged. There was drywall repair and paint consultations. Lights and fixtures were ordered online. We re-fabbed the sink and installed our own, new faucet. And then there was the shower curtain: we found the ideal shower curtain more than a month ago. But every Target in the midwest was out of it. We made lots of phone calls. We tracked it down.
Today we put the final touch on our new and improved bathroom. We found this enormous, heavy mirror at TJ Maxx for a super-clearance price of 5 bucks. It weighs at least 25 pounds and required hours of retrofitting to make it secure. We used a stud finder to locate the right mounting location only to find out that the studs stop halfway up the wall (WHY? WHY, I implore you?). After all of the effort that we put into this tiny bathroom, it was the mirror that brought us to the edge of our collective sanity. However, we persevered and jerry-rigged and alas, we have a centered, secure, level mirror. And a fully-functional bathroom. This is a huge luxury after weeks of having to pee under a ladder (in the mid-painted bathroom, not outside) and showering in the basement's farmer's shower. The end product is quite lovely. It is a space that feels clean and simple. It is pretty hard to capture the room well -- it is small and bare which doesn't necessarily lend itself to photography. However, here are some before and after pics:
Wall and light fixtures: Old = stripey wallpaper and globe lamp
Old, pearlized sink with coppery faucet; new, brighter and simpler fixture and sink top.
The final product:
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Six Years
Today we are celebrating our anniversary. Two days early. But it is my year to cook, and I figured that preparing a big meal after teaching until 4pm was not a likely option. And tomorrow night there is an Eagles game, so Rhonda would be unavailable to eat...
So we broke with tradition -- usually a surprise dinner cooked alternately by one of us -- and instead had anniversary brunch. I started with from-scratch cinnamon rolls. Then we took a walk in the woods with buddy. It was a particularly eventful walk as we scared a brood of turkeys who were hanging out in a clearing, and then we watched deer cutting across the path ahead of us. We sat for a while, listening to the trees rustle and taking note of how beautiful it is here.
Then, the real food began. I made (for the first time, mind you) a PA Dutch/Southern staple: chicken and gravy on waffles!! Rhonda was surprised, amused at my selection, and we were both amazed at how delicious it all was. I also made a side of applesauce made from apples picked by the Kallgren children yesterday (thank you!) and we ate outside in the sun. We plopped a table in the middle of the back field/garden area and enjoyed the wonderful strangeness of realizing that in the last of our six years together we changed almost everything. To find ourselves sitting in our garden in Northern Wisconsin is both disorienting and delightful. I know we are both glad to be on this adventure together.
So we broke with tradition -- usually a surprise dinner cooked alternately by one of us -- and instead had anniversary brunch. I started with from-scratch cinnamon rolls. Then we took a walk in the woods with buddy. It was a particularly eventful walk as we scared a brood of turkeys who were hanging out in a clearing, and then we watched deer cutting across the path ahead of us. We sat for a while, listening to the trees rustle and taking note of how beautiful it is here.
Then, the real food began. I made (for the first time, mind you) a PA Dutch/Southern staple: chicken and gravy on waffles!! Rhonda was surprised, amused at my selection, and we were both amazed at how delicious it all was. I also made a side of applesauce made from apples picked by the Kallgren children yesterday (thank you!) and we ate outside in the sun. We plopped a table in the middle of the back field/garden area and enjoyed the wonderful strangeness of realizing that in the last of our six years together we changed almost everything. To find ourselves sitting in our garden in Northern Wisconsin is both disorienting and delightful. I know we are both glad to be on this adventure together.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Guns for Education
I have been in an excessively good mood for the last several days. In part, I get really hyper and excited after teaching. And, since I teach twice a day, I have lots of high-energy occasions. I find myself surprised, charmed, and engaged by the students in my class. I have the most interesting range of learners: a retired armchair historian, a few single moms, and students with a wide range of differing abilities and life-challenges. And they show up to class every day. They seem really excited to be in college (if not always in my class) and they surprise me both with their insights and, at times, the lack.
And then there are always the turkeys. You learn to expect a certain element in your classes; in my experience at Washington it was often the Frat boys sitting in the back of the class with their baseball caps on, dressed in Abercrombie, snickering with disinterest while trying to recover from the weekend's parties. You are just a glitch in their day, and they are cocky as hell. The good news: these cocky, strutting beasts seem not to be in my classes (at least this semester). However, there are the loudest, strutting, look-at-me-I'm-cool creatures who like to traipse through our yard early in the morning. TURKEYS. Real, wild, loud, turkeys. Saturday morning (the day to sleep in, mind you) we were roused at 7am by no less than 20 wild turkeys parading under our bedroom window, across the driveway, and through the yard. Like wild kingdom, but real. And the best part about these enormous birds who live in our woods and eat our bugs is that they are just part of the status quo. No one pays them any mind. Of course, it is NORMAL to have large, 20+ pound birds grazing freely in the neighborhood. Yes, they probably live in your woods. And, yes, sometimes they like to cross the road very slowly. It is all part of the way of life in this neck of the woods.
We followed the already raucous morning of turkey-watching with an 8am session of "Colleagues with Chainsaws." You do not know this event? Well, it begins when two of your colleagues have plans to go to a gun show. They decide to meet up at your place and to drop off a cooler and a chainsaw. They then decide that we should just have at it and start trimming that tree that is so overgrown. Next thing you know, you have a music Prof, a biologist, and one domestic diva (Rhonda) attacking a 30 ft. Spruce from all angles. (Amy and Buddy watch, far out of harms way.) After an hour, the tree is much improved and the colleagues look at each other and say, "well, should we head to the gun show?" It is only then that I see that said music professor is wearing a t-shirt that includes the words "guns" and "education." Rhonda looks at him and says "In Marinette, even the liberals like guns!"
I can' resist tying this all together by mentioning that it is soon turkey season (and squirrel season!). I have a strange non -resistance to hunting turkeys. Whereas deer have these big, sweet eyes and always seem so scared, turkeys seem quite self-assured and unafraid. Shooting them seems not such a loss. There will be more. Lots more.
What has become of me?
And then there are always the turkeys. You learn to expect a certain element in your classes; in my experience at Washington it was often the Frat boys sitting in the back of the class with their baseball caps on, dressed in Abercrombie, snickering with disinterest while trying to recover from the weekend's parties. You are just a glitch in their day, and they are cocky as hell. The good news: these cocky, strutting beasts seem not to be in my classes (at least this semester). However, there are the loudest, strutting, look-at-me-I'm-cool creatures who like to traipse through our yard early in the morning. TURKEYS. Real, wild, loud, turkeys. Saturday morning (the day to sleep in, mind you) we were roused at 7am by no less than 20 wild turkeys parading under our bedroom window, across the driveway, and through the yard. Like wild kingdom, but real. And the best part about these enormous birds who live in our woods and eat our bugs is that they are just part of the status quo. No one pays them any mind. Of course, it is NORMAL to have large, 20+ pound birds grazing freely in the neighborhood. Yes, they probably live in your woods. And, yes, sometimes they like to cross the road very slowly. It is all part of the way of life in this neck of the woods.
We followed the already raucous morning of turkey-watching with an 8am session of "Colleagues with Chainsaws." You do not know this event? Well, it begins when two of your colleagues have plans to go to a gun show. They decide to meet up at your place and to drop off a cooler and a chainsaw. They then decide that we should just have at it and start trimming that tree that is so overgrown. Next thing you know, you have a music Prof, a biologist, and one domestic diva (Rhonda) attacking a 30 ft. Spruce from all angles. (Amy and Buddy watch, far out of harms way.) After an hour, the tree is much improved and the colleagues look at each other and say, "well, should we head to the gun show?" It is only then that I see that said music professor is wearing a t-shirt that includes the words "guns" and "education." Rhonda looks at him and says "In Marinette, even the liberals like guns!"
I can' resist tying this all together by mentioning that it is soon turkey season (and squirrel season!). I have a strange non -resistance to hunting turkeys. Whereas deer have these big, sweet eyes and always seem so scared, turkeys seem quite self-assured and unafraid. Shooting them seems not such a loss. There will be more. Lots more.
What has become of me?
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Teaching
It was a good day. I feel excited about teaching, about being here -- in this new and quirky place -- and I feel particularly good about the people. I had my small class this afternoon, and as the discussion percolated at a good speed, I looked around the room and realized that it was perhaps the strangest and most interesting teaching setting to date. I have
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
the smoking man doesn't know my blog
Today was the first day of class. On Tuesday/Thursday I have an 8am section of English 101, and a 2:55 (yes, 2:55!?) section of English 201. I will write more on the schedule in a moment, but first I should say that the first day went quite well. I was surprised at the diversity (racial) in my 101 class; I had students of color and they were not all international students! I asked the class to write me some words of advice on surviving Wisconsin winters and responses included: don't forget to pay the heat bill, keep cat litter in your car, and "think warm."
One might wonder how to structure a day in which your classes are seven hours apart. In general, I have decided that I will come home between classes. Living half a mile from school makes this imminently possible. (I shared this strategy with my dad who asked "they pay you for THAT?") But, being that it was the first day, I had a lot of details to take care of, so I didn't head home until 1-ish. As I was walking down the lane that leads me (the back way) to our house, I hear this voice ask "You done with school already?" I turn to see this man I have never met sitting on his deck and having a smoke. I looked at him quizzically and he said "oh, I saw you heading to school this morning." Let me repeat that I DO NOT KNOW THIS MAN. And yet, he knew I was coming home from school. Either because he actually knows who I am (small town: word travels fast), or because one can only assume that a woman wearing pinstriped pants and a paisley shirt must be going to the University, that HE KNEW. And, the funnier part being, like my father he seemed incredulous that I could be done already.
I also had to decide what I wanted the students to call me. After much debate and discussion, I have settled on "Dr. Amy." I explained to my students that finishing my PhD was one of the most excruciating things I have ever done and, gosh darn it, I earned those letters. And yet, I do not want to go all the way with this power trip. Besides, Dr. Reddinger makes me sound like a Urologist.
I hope (ahem, Georgia) that I have sufficiently narrated the first day. I am sure that I will write more as the week progresses. I also want to give props to all those who commented on my comments. Rhonda had a good laugh when no one responded to that post for a day or two, but then she was equally excited when the responses came rolling in. I think that blogging is a strange beast, but I have really enjoyed the opportunity to write creatively on a pretty regular basis. I strongly recommend that if you want to try this blogging thing, you should start blogging about things that excite you. So, for instance, Tamiko should write about food and Celia and life with Denmark's most famous composer while Georgia might want to blog about cheese and my space (see comments from last post). Certain friends might want to blog about chickens...
Rhonda took these this morning as I headed off:
One might wonder how to structure a day in which your classes are seven hours apart. In general, I have decided that I will come home between classes. Living half a mile from school makes this imminently possible. (I shared this strategy with my dad who asked "they pay you for THAT?") But, being that it was the first day, I had a lot of details to take care of, so I didn't head home until 1-ish. As I was walking down the lane that leads me (the back way) to our house, I hear this voice ask "You done with school already?" I turn to see this man I have never met sitting on his deck and having a smoke. I looked at him quizzically and he said "oh, I saw you heading to school this morning." Let me repeat that I DO NOT KNOW THIS MAN. And yet, he knew I was coming home from school. Either because he actually knows who I am (small town: word travels fast), or because one can only assume that a woman wearing pinstriped pants and a paisley shirt must be going to the University, that HE KNEW. And, the funnier part being, like my father he seemed incredulous that I could be done already.
I also had to decide what I wanted the students to call me. After much debate and discussion, I have settled on "Dr. Amy." I explained to my students that finishing my PhD was one of the most excruciating things I have ever done and, gosh darn it, I earned those letters. And yet, I do not want to go all the way with this power trip. Besides, Dr. Reddinger makes me sound like a Urologist.
I hope (ahem, Georgia) that I have sufficiently narrated the first day. I am sure that I will write more as the week progresses. I also want to give props to all those who commented on my comments. Rhonda had a good laugh when no one responded to that post for a day or two, but then she was equally excited when the responses came rolling in. I think that blogging is a strange beast, but I have really enjoyed the opportunity to write creatively on a pretty regular basis. I strongly recommend that if you want to try this blogging thing, you should start blogging about things that excite you. So, for instance, Tamiko should write about food and Celia and life with Denmark's most famous composer while Georgia might want to blog about cheese and my space (see comments from last post). Certain friends might want to blog about chickens...
Rhonda took these this morning as I headed off:
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Comments!?
I am new to blogging. I have been reading a few choice blogs -- dooce & postsecret are favorites -- for a few years. However, the experience of writing publicly and putting it "out there" is all new. And the most surprising thing to me is how attached I am to your readership and comments. I check for comments every morning. Before I check email. I want to see who is reading, what they have to add to the conversation, or what smart-ass things are brought forth. It is embarrassing and a mark of cyber-uncool to admit how much I want you to comment on what I am writing.
I love that some of you have told me you are reading this regularly (even if you are not commenting). I have to admit that I have gotten a little dictatorial about the whole thing. I have even gone so far as to refuse to tell my mother a story because "It is on my blog." This is an ongoing game we have been playing as my mother has not yet looked at this site. Perhaps it is because she does not love me enough (something I used to say as a child to manipulate her into acquiescence). However, according to her it is a political statement. She told me flat out: "I don't read blogs." My mother is a woman of principle and I do not expect her to post comments any time soon.
I love that some of you have told me you are reading this regularly (even if you are not commenting). I have to admit that I have gotten a little dictatorial about the whole thing. I have even gone so far as to refuse to tell my mother a story because "It is on my blog." This is an ongoing game we have been playing as my mother has not yet looked at this site. Perhaps it is because she does not love me enough (something I used to say as a child to manipulate her into acquiescence). However, according to her it is a political statement. She told me flat out: "I don't read blogs." My mother is a woman of principle and I do not expect her to post comments any time soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
