Sow the wind, reap the whirlwind.

Translation: go on a trip, come back to your actual life. With a job and all.

Question: was it a "trip," aka a vacation? or was it a "project"? And all that that entails.

Question: will I ever organize my photos?

For now:

The year in pictures (part 2)

[In which we carry on with a scintillating retrospective of my life me me me me me in the months of May, June, July, and August. Attentive and regular readers of this blog will supply a counterpoint to these blithe narratives about the impending end of the sabbatical. WOE.]

MAY.

There were a lot of grandchild birthdays. A LOT.

Eden's, for instance.

And Deacon's.

And Alex's!

JUNE.

In June, we were in Idaho, first with my folks to refresh our memory about opening for the season; then with my oldest dear friend. Nothing like it.

JULY.

We were in Idaho. Wildflowers, rivers, birds. Sun moon rain. I wrote, slept, read. There were bats. The filth and the fury! It was Miriam's birthday, in Scotland, her fifth.

AUGUST.

We went to Seattle to visit the historian's daughter, and it was beautiful and amazing as ever in that excellent town.

I had a birthday. Jenna and Rachel had a birthday (where are these pictures? Inquiring minds want to know!)

I had to go to work again. No, let me try that again: in times like these, I was pleased to find that I had a job still waiting for me. With students! and grading! and, more to the point, commitments I

had made when blithely still overestimating my enthusiasm

and/or capacity for extra commitments. No, let me try that again:

Back to school! Pencils, notebooks, my colleagues. WORK, hence

paycheck.

TAGS: retrospective, photos, Seattle

Highlight reel.

Today's list of good things:

• after having misplaced it for a couple of years, I was relieved to find that my friend had my copy of The New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics.
• the workshop I have been putting together on avant-garde poetry (symbolist, futurist, dada, surrealist, constructivist . . . -ist) of the early 20th century went smashingly at the first meeting this evening.
• when we took our walk, Bruiser and I did not get blown away by the gust-a-licious wind that's been blowing in our town.
• buckwheat pancakes for breakfast.
• I have a plan to visit my mom and dad soon.
• lots of salty crunchy snacks around the house.
• I had important insights when I was in California about some of my poems.
• the historian and I ate breakfast at Clint Eastwood's. Because we're very close friends with Clint. Or because he has a restaurant and inn in Carmel.
• excellent episode of Damages.
• strawberry ice cream.
• the Jazz won tonight, and Boozer played big. Huge. Very, very large.
• I know so much more about the early 20th c. avant-garde amongst French and Russian poets than I did before, say, yesterday.
• because I am done with the workshop for the week (just 2 more meetings!), I can now go read a detective novel like it is my job.

Friday afternoon.

I was downtown today about noon. Could it be any more beautiful? I ask you:




In an important update, due to my get-up-and-go schedule today, I barely had time to look balefully at my computer because it is so slow, let alone check the polls like it was my job. Guess what? Everything is fine. I'd like to say that this means I've learned my lesson, and therefore tomorrow I will not check the polls obsessively, but I can't say that, because tomorrow is another, hopefully beautiful, day, and who knows what might happen if I'm not online morning noon and night? The end of the civilized world as we know it? that's why you can count on me. I'm on it, never fear. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on those polls. You need me on those polls.

Special Announcement: Who's gonna blog like it's 1999? November is NaBloPoMo. That's right, National Blog Posting Month. You know I'll be there. Who's with me?