You guys.

Okay, first of all: first of all, this is the last day of classes, the last day of classes of the semester that almost nigh unto killed me, as in I am almost dead, but I have survived, I have prevailed, I have a new header!

Today, I read the last of the poems and the last of the essays. Today, I met with my independent study students and advised them for the last time. Today, it is the last day. Did I respond to many an e-mail, many a panicky, pleading e-mail? and did I respond with a firm and gentle, not to say severe, not to say way harsh tone? and did I say unto the panicky student, "Panicky student, you must chill. YOU MUST CHILL."?

The answer to all of these questions is yes. Yes, I did. I wore black and I wore shiny shoes, and I was in charge of the last day of school, lo! the last day of school recognized me and surrendered.

Good lord.

Well, the final work doesn't come in till next week, so it's not like I'm done done, but I am done with the meeting with students, and that feels like, the people, a blessed, blessed relief.

Cheers to blessed, blessed relief.

Down day.

My daughter got on a plane to Louisiana today. I went to hear my son sing in church. Then, I spent the day doing almost nothing--reading, a small nap, straightening, a little laundry. A few images from the end of the day--

 

 

 

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Here's the thing:

I got up at 6:30 to be at the Publication Center at 7:30 so some students could work on their stuff, and print, and bind. I was in the room with the hot glue and the sharp blade until 11:30. And then there was a meeting. And then there were e-mails and phone calls from students. And students who were all, "So basically you're saying I'm missing three or four things?" with a chagrined chuckle, and I was all, "yeah." And the grading hovering in the short distance.

And still, the people, it's Friday. FRIDAY. And it's also...the end, almost, of the semester. Let the unwinding commence. I said let it commence!

Stats: pre-solstice, post-teaching.

Teaching: done.

Baked goods: one cake baked; eaten. None remaining.

Illness: inevitable possible cold.

Grading: all still awaits.

Movies: two.

Mood: rainy but optimistic.

Crossword: yesterday's.

Housekeeping: que porquería.

Young men in their twenties in the house: two.

Online status: powering down.

Semester: almost, almost over.

I am so so very tired.

I had this distinct thought while I was teaching today--actually still teaching, on the very last day of class--"Why am I still talking?"

So much talking.

I am looking forward to the grading, in silence.

Endings: an FAQ.

Q. How would you describe the final exam you just wrote for your Grammar & Style students?

A. Fun. No, wait: transplendent.

Q. Tomorrow, will there be cake in class?

A. I believe so.

Q. Will Reading Day be a quiet day?

A. Unfortunately not.

Q. Have you done all that you could?

A. I am not sure.

Q. But will there be cake?

A. I hope so, I really do.

Q. And is your conscience clear?

A. Not quite: it is not quite clear.

Q. And will there be cake?

A. If I make it, there will be cake.

The summer, whoa.

Well, the summer is just about done for, and with it all spontaneity and joy. Am I wrong? The people, am I wrong?

Okay, possibly exaggerating. I am probably going to take up a side career as a professional whiner-for-hire--if you need any whinging done, you know who to call! I am, as usual, flagellating myself for all the things I did not do that I meant to do, planned to do, might still do in the 32 hours I have left before the Official School Meetings begin.

What to do in the meanwhile? spend quality time with my laptop and produce a meaningful syllabus update? prepare a core list of classical rhetorical devices, and while I'm at it, a key to useful editorial markings? write a manifesto? rearrange my books and give my belongings to the poor? bake a cake? reacquaint myself with my abdominal muscles? draft documents for various and sundry? edit two little videos? add more to my new video project "seethe"?

Or what.

Rather than prioritize this list, I believe I will finish an intermittently interesting novel set in Rome, with police and carabinieri and whatnot. And also take Bruiser for a late night walk. And possibly eat one more cookie.

The end.

THAT was a pretty good vacation.

Our last night. See you soon, the SLC.

Harbinger.

I know it and you know it: that rain spattering and the wind hollering is the end of summer a-calling. So add these items to your list of stuff to contemplate:

• No more white shoes, dresses or trousers after tomorrow (I know, no one cares about this but me, and actually, I don't even care about it, but just this morning, I read an article about it, and in the information-sharing spirit of this blog, I am passing this time-honored style principle to you. You're very, very welcome.). Also, possibly, no more white gloves, but no one but maybe Brooke Astor ever cared about that in about fifty years.
• It's still tomato season for a few more weeks.
• There are still peaches.
• Awesome walking and bike-riding weather for several weeks.
• Sweaters.
• Less swamp cooler usage.
• Also, time to send out your manuscripts again! If you have manuscripts, send them out--it's time!
• Sleep with more covers on, which for some reason, I always find terribly comforting.
• Pumpkin pie is in your future.
• More baking in general.
• Every season that passes is an index for how much closer I am--you, too!--to old age, decrepitude, and death.

See? So many reasons to be cheerful.