Today in ten good things.

1. Waking up to a beautiful morning. Opening our bedroom door so Bruiser could hop up on the bed.
2. Thinking, when I woke up, maybe I'll take a rest day, because I felt sore, but as the day wore on, thinking, nope, I'm gonna do another two-a-day. And doing it.
3. Knowing from the moment I sat down to eat my Frosted Mini-Wheats that we were going to see a movie later in the evening.
4. Getting to talk to my smart colleagues about exciting things.
5. Thinking with Charlotte about making the Publication Center* a micro-press. (OH YES it is happeninnnnnngggg)

< I will pause, so that you may reflect**. >

6. Eating a surprisingly delicious lunch in the Student Center.
7. Visiting with friends before whisking off to the movie.
8. A very good movie, a comedy, that had the grand advantage of being a perfect length.
9. A big big moon.
10. Thinking about going to the farmer's market tomorrow!

BONUS ten things: Ten Things I Hope to See, Eat, and Buy at the Farmer's Market Tomorrow:

1. a huge croissant
2. peaches galore
3. tomatoes galore
4. basil galore
5. maybe some berries?
6. Mozdykuchen!
7. it's too soon for Asian pears, but maybe some asian pears.
8. ALLLLllll the garlic
9. all the things to make fattoush
10. eggs!

*don't judge this website...it is about to get freaking amazing.

** I hope LK knows that every time I use the expression 'I will pause, so that you may reflect,' it is in homage to her.

YES

to finishing the presentation without freaking out.

to adding an awesome chart to my presentation, full of data generated by my very own self.

to getting some great questions from listeners.

to eating garlic shrimp on yellow rice for a celebratory/relief lunch with my friends.

to eating two meals, with two excellent conversations, with my friend, because in our regular, non-conference-attending lives, we are too busy to eat together.

to smelling jasmine and seeing crew after crew rowing on the water as I walked to my hotel.

to meeting the poet who picked my manuscript, and having him greet me with delight and a hug.

to yet another blessed retreat to my quiet hotel room, where I can breathe and not talk to anyone, except my beloved, which: YES to a conversation with my beloved, and YES to the fact that I will come home home home tomorrow:


YES.

How Saturday feels.

Waking up once, when it's still gray. Lightening, but still gray. Sorting out the first-thing calculus, what day it is, what there is to be awake for. Realizing: nothing but the day itself. And sleeping again for another hour, hour and a half. Whatever strange dream has happened in the interim, stepping out of bed to know that it's nothing, that the most pressing concern is breakfast.

Breakfast.

Writing an imitation of a Tomaž Šalamun poem, then adding notes to the thing, the words, that might eventually become a poem, nominally titled "Riding the Metro in Beijing." Adding a couple of lines to a poem, maybe a poem, about cosmology. Talking to the daughter in Scotland who has just purchased a yellow jacket, that miraculously has appeared in the very same Zara where she and I once considered a different yellow jacket, but decided against it and have regretted it ever since. Considering this fine shopping miracle.

Walking very fast for almost two miles, then doing chest presses and pull downs and rows. Listening to Jonsi and Jack White and Brandon Flowers and Ben Folds, and watching Chelsea and Man City play out the final 30 minutes of a match, while doing so.

Showering, then racing across town to watch a grandson play the last basketball game of the season. Chasing a granddaughter around, giving her fruit snacks and drawing her a frog and a dancing girl.

Coming home, taking a little nap.

Going to a party, chatting and laughing and celebrating and eating with friends.

Walking the dog under a cold, clear sky.

What was beautiful today?

Making breakfast after waking up to snowlight.
Watching Revenge of the Sith with my son, agreeing that we both love this much-reviled film, agreeing on what our favorite parts are.

Reading my students' work slowly. Thinking about how to respond.

The snow.

Seeing baby Gwenyth, all swaddled in pink.

Chatting with my daughter while she folded the laundry.

Doing a hologram-ic puzzle of The Avengers, which was hella difficult and nonetheless sort of satisfying to noodle around with.

Taking Deacon on an outing. Listening to him whistle in the back seat.

Coming home. Texting my son (downstairs): "Home. Need anything?" His reply: "A hello and a Gatorade."

Watching the Jazz blow a 10 point lead to Memphis, and lose, pleasurable because of the company.

A walk in the clear night, the snow lining the trees, the snow everywhere.

Right now,

or today, at least:

watched this (and earlier today, this),
read some of this--it is so choice, and
ate here--so delicious.

Also, so tired. I have just discovered that when I have something going on in the morning, I cannot quite get to sleep the night before. This will not stand. But I am still going to finish this episode of Scrubs, featuring Colin Farrell, because I have endurance and I am strong. I am the Iron Man of television watching.

Word from Cali.

We began the morning at leisure, in what is perhaps my favorite garden patio of all time.

in the Adirondack chair

nasturtium & leaf

ball of leaves & light



Then, we went into the city to the DeYoung museum, for an exhibit of Jean Paul Gaultier couture. It was spuhlendid.

how you do zat?, Jacques Lacan deconstruction mix

headdress



Then, we drove to the Cliff House, the ruins of the Sutro Baths, and Land's End:

Now that was a pretty good day.

The last day of summer, technically: an FAQ.

Q: How's that prep coming?

A: Oh, swell, thanks for asking.

Q: Seriously.

A: None of your business.

Q: What'd you do today, the last day before school meetings start tomorrow morning?

A: Would you like that in a paragraph, or a bulleted list?

Q: Bulleted list, please.

A: Excellent choice:

• picked up one grandson from his house at 9 a.m.
• picked up other grandson from his house at 9:25 a.m.
• drove directly to Target, where we purchased 2 varieties of Spiderman (Arctic Attack Spiderman and Spider Sense Spiderman), various snacks including Kung Fu Panda Fruit Roll Ups, and a pair of shoes for me (I really needed them!).
• drove home, where we engaged in long bouts of Spiderman play, interspersed with discussions in which we parsed the various features of the two Spidermen.
• had Happy Meals for lunch. Bruiser finished off the last chicken nugget neatly, when it was left unattended and, one can safely assume, therefore unwanted. Except by a dog.
• watched Iron Giant. Our viewing was enhanced by a video chat with an auntie in Scotland, and discussions about whether the giant was a good guy or a bad guy.
• resumed Spiderman play.
• built a Spiderman garage with blocks.
• took Bruiser for a very short walk.
• had a snack.
• had a little rest with some Wonder Pets to amuse and inspire us.

Why, what'd you do?

Q: How on earth will you be ready when classes start on Wednesday? Don't you have long meetings tomorrow?

A: What's a long meeting and a laptop for?

Lisa, it's your birthday.

𝄞 Happy birthday, Lisa . . . 𝄫

Obviously, I'm quoting from the Simpson's, not singing happy birthday to myself. Gosh. And frankly, there was no need, since I received a swell of birthday wishes and it was grand.

Here are some of the happy facts of this weekend, which we treated like one delightful celebration:

• the teeny tiny strawberries grown by Weeks Berries of Paradise, the ones that are a distillation of the strawberry, so fragrant you swoon a little bit.
• blueberries grown by the same people.
• the happy accident of finding, in the archaeological dig that is my study, a recipe I'd saved for a blueberry cake (from the NYTimes Sunday Magazine). Ladies & gentleman, it was delicious. I AM PACKRAT (in honor of the archaeological dig and its riches).
• a beautiful handmade book made by Montana artist Gerri Carlson:

• two movies (The Hangover and Julie & Julia)(for those who know I've already seen The Hangover once . . . you're right, there's really no excuse. The historian hadn't seen it. It was at Brewvies (still). My veggie burger was delish. AND I did laugh a second time. Quite a bit.)
• make that three movies--my youngest daughter and I saw The Ugly Truth, which was kind of ugly, it's true, though it had a redeeming virtue or two . . . and there was popcorn. And good company.
• breakfast out this morning.
• a chat with my oldest friend.
• a visit from my son's old friend, and then my son and his family.
• Mad Men.

I also worked quite a while on stuff for my course, read the newspaper, talked to the kids in Scotland, who sent me an awesome video of the granddaughters singing Happy Birthday, then everyone dancing to "Stop Your Sobbing," which, what a thoughtful present! And the aforementioned birthday wishes from one and all--I feel thoroughly celebrated. And it's not even concluded--my middle daughter has invited us to her house tomorrow for a barbeque and water games (and to play with my grandson)--and I hear there are birthday wishes awaiting at the historian's son's house full of granddaughters.

And so, as a fitting conclusion to this self-congratulatory post, I offer you this:

It was a lovely, lovely day.

All right, already.

Reprising my day:

This, this was my breakfast.

This is Bruiser, digging on the snow.

These are the horses in the back field.

And, oh yeah, we got a Christmas tree:

O Tannenbaum, by God. from lisab on Vimeo.

And the lion and the lamb shall lie down together.

In Isaiah there are actually wolves and fatlings in this scripture, but anyway:  drunk on sunshine, Bruiser and the cat had nothing to say to each other except "[yawn]":

What a great day.

Awesome day: a prototype.

1. Wake up. Get paper. Start reading detective novel before getting dressed. (warm-up)
2. Make breakfast. Check blog. Sadly, no comments. (first things first)
3. Dress. Make list of stuff to do. (ablutions, planning)
4. Pick up car from tire guys. Pick up replacement dog tag. Shop. (errands and new white skirt)
5. Receive e-mail from publisher—realize with a start I have not finished textbook review! Start text book review! (wake up call: red alert!)
6. Make major progress on review. Clean bathroom, do laundry, plant last of plants. Take a nap. Read some more detective novel. (down to work)

Also: ate Thai food, talked to singing son, planned breakfast with make-up artist daughter and darling grandson, planned visit with my mom, chatted several times with college daughter about the paper she is writing, and made flow chart that will not export as image to blog (see above for colorful yet unreadable drawing).

7. Sleep in clean sheets. Read a last bit of detective novel before oblivion. (perfect end, perfectly great day)

Dang good day.

Even though I had plenty of stuff to do that I didn't get done today, it still felt like a good day--the kind of day when you feel light because you can see that the big mountain of things there are to get done, you'll get done one way or another. I might even get my office cleaned out, for instance, at or around the end of the semester. I will certainly make some progress tomorrow on catching up in my online course. The weather's cold but warming. Even my friends' accomplishments are cheering me up--middlebrow's upcoming dissertation defense, I realized today, makes me feel happy to contemplate, and dr. write's upcoming distinguished lecture. Good news all around. Ice cream for everyone.

Which leads me to this: I got the letter today saying that my sabbatical proposal was approved, the thought of which makes me feel elated and beyond beyond. I had agreed to meet college daughter after work for a movie and then dinner--we saw The Boleyn Girl, which I had predicted would be well-dressed lurid trash, but I unexpectedly thought was pretty good, really. (It's possible that my good mood affected my viewing.)

And then, when I got home, there was a letter from the Arts Festival, saying that I got the Mayor's Artist Award in the Literary Arts. People who like and care for me nominated me, which is part of the joy--but it also felt great to read those words, written by a stranger. In a letter, which I will now frame and turn into a little shrine. (kidding.)

Finally: in light of all the above, it felt just wonderful to write a poem, the inaugural poem from the Poem-a-Day-for-a-Month Project, 2.0, in celebration of the cruellest month--National Poetry Month. You can read it here.

Cheers!