Sometimes the Shining Moments. Embracing Integrity, Success, Academic Excellence, Student-First Instruction, and the Joy of the Bard

I was thrilled to learn that Dr. Shannon Kelley found success with her application for promotion and I can think of few who deserve it more. Shannon has been an irreplaceable mentor to me in my arrival at Fairfield University and I've loved our collaborations, conversations, and work with English students. In my book, she's been an A++++ scholar since the day I met her (I couldn't help but wear my Louisville hoodie in her honor, although her doctorate in Shakespearean studies occurred at Duke. We won't hold that against her. Interesting trivia...she attended Louisville Male while I was teaching peers her age at the J. Graham Brown School. 

For a few summers, Dr. Kelley and I did collaborative "To Write or Not to Write" workshops with middle-grade students, where she shared her William Shakespeare brilliance. It died out as a result of Covid, but it was some of the greatest work I've been able to oversee as a National Writing Project director. 

During the academic year, Shannon is one of the few pro-student, pro-high standards, and pro-integrity colleagues I've had on campus. We share many of the same students and they love her (readily admitting they are petrified of the course and their ability to handle the academic plays of the canonical genius). Shannon, however, brings playfulness, humor, incredible instruction, and stellar knowledge to all who take her classes.

It was wonderful to be invited to the celebration last night to tip glasses, and share bread, in celebration of her achievements. It was a lonnnnnnggggg Friday, but it paid off after the Faculty meeting when we could gather to cheer her on. So wonderful to be in the company of so many Fairfield greats. 

Wow. It's already February. Let's bring it on.

Great Day Celebrating the Center of Climate, Coastal, and Marine Studies at Fairfield University with Representative Jim Himes

This is the 2nd year I'm serving on committees of the Center for Climate, Coastal, and Marine Studies at Fairfield University, and this year I get to be part of the Advisory Board. It was wonderful to learn that Representative Jim Himes wanted to learn more about the interdisciplinary work and to host him at the Center yesterday as part of the 2nd-year work. It was also wonderful to see him again, as the days of visiting DC with the National Writing Project was cut years ago by the removal of earmark funds for organizations like ours and I miss the yearly updates, tremendous CT support, and celebration of what we do (he always has our publications on display in his office). 

Times change. We worked with him closely for Guns in the Hands of Artists, too...one of the more moving interdisciplinary experiences with the Walsh gallery and colleagues across campus. We did great work with Greenwich Public Schools, local artists, great teachers, and kid writers. 

I'm optimistic with similar work with the Center's mission, especially to showcase student research and to make community engagement with our local K-12 partners. 

In many ways, yesterday was a reunion. Dr. Robert Nazarian is a brilliant scholar with a driven mission for the work. Dr. Margaret McClure, a faculty mentor, is now a Provost for Research on our campus (and a great mom! I worked with her son on his college essay). It was also great to spend time with colleagues across campus who do ecological work and have a vision for what is possible. 

Of course, the outdoor world is frozen now, but we brought warmth indoors and I'm glad that my Kentucky Institute for Education and Sustainable Development degree from the University of Louisville has been put to use. We even published a piece in the California Journal of English on our cross-disciplinary collaboration. 

Ah, but today is Friday (meetings galore). Time to get off the blog and into the action-packed day.

Embracing 14, Because the Days are Requiring 14-Hours of Work and I Don't See a Let Up Until March. I Will Just Roll With It.

Wednesdays are my Saturdays. I wake up thinking I finally can catch my breath after weekend planning and back-to-back obligations Monday and Tuesday. Of course, Thursdays and Fridays pick up again, needing the weekend to ready for a new week. So, I tried to lay low yesterday. Awoke at six, began answering email, graded, did some more planning, and before I knew it, it was 10 p.m.. Of course, this was all on Bry-time and I had no meetings.

Not the case today, as I'm booked from 8 a.m. until 9 p.m. - it doesn't end...one thing after another, after another. Yep, another semester has begun. 

Then there's February. I keep getting emails for meeting times and 'save-the-dates', but I can't fit anything else into the calendar. We are officially closed.

And it is officially ridiculously cold. I know I need to reshovel areas in preparation of more storms this weekend, but I can't bring myself to stand outside that long. It hurts. I keep hoping the Nor'easterner will blow out to sea as some models project.

We're heading out of Christmas seasons and toward's February's love-fest, so 14 seems to be the number of the Aquarian seasons. I am trying to find a rhythm in it all. I just wonder (about administrators)...do they realize that for every hour they mandate with meetings, they take 60-minutes away of real productivity.. Seriously....I accomplish more during times when I boycott responsibilities to get work done than when I attend them to learn how they want us to do even more work. 

Anyway...onward. It's all I can. 

Getting Into the Swing of a Semester: Yesterday, We Doodled Teenager Archetypes to Get Ourselves Thinking About Teaching Middle & Secondary School

Visual literacy matters, even when you make your teen double fisted with Apple Watches, Jordan kicks, and Incredible Hulk biceps. What isn't captured is the pairing of Alfred Tatum's discussion of textual lineages, the need to understand and embrace youth cultures (and sub-cultures) and to individualize instruction so they see themselves in the math, history, science, English, foreign languages, health, etc. being taught. 

I didn't know if I'd make the whole day, having a terrible sinus headache that wouldn't go away. I had nurse-search a.m. obligations, came home midday to walk the dog, then returned for late classes with the graduate students. I made it. Somehow I subdued the headache and exhaustion, and had a productive class. 

I imagine I will feel this way all semester, as I haven't rested like I should, nor do I have a chance to catch up on mental recharging. I fight on for the love of the students and the content I'm fortunate to teach, but after a Monday of shoveling, a weekend preparing an asynchronous class for a Snow Day, and the lack of good sleep, simply has me feeling groggy. I'm hoping for a restful, catch-up day today, as Thursday and Friday are looking exactly as yesterday did...jam packed with responsibilities, meetings, obligations, and needs. 

And the temperature is cold again. I hate when it hurts. 

Of course, first papers are coming in already, so I will go through those, but they are low-key assessments and simply give me a feel for what I have. It's different this year. There are equal numbers of males in the literacy space as there are females. This is usually not the case, but we have a larger-than-usual cohort of math majors.

Whereas last year was heavy on the social studies folk, this year we're dominated by math kids. We'll make it work as we always do, and I think they are catching onto the fact that my two hour blocks fly by because it isn't two hours of listening to me squawk the entire time (although I could). Rather, as they finish an activity, I simply throw up the slides from the reading to say, "you just experienced what all these people are talking about."

Here we are humpday. Let's Wednesday this bad boy up.

I Got Lucky. Someone with a Snowblower Did the Sidewalks, but the Other Five Hours Were All Lift & Hope to Find a Good Landing Place

I'm glad I did two rounds yesterday, trying to get some of the snow off the driveway before the freezing ran arrived. The winds cause very thick drifts, too, and so it took quite a while to get the white stuff off the driveway. I finished it, but I needed a two-hour rest before I tackled the street to driveway wall that the plows established. That was brutal. Chisel, break apart, lift, and throw. 

I am sore. Five hours of living that garbage will do it to ya, and the rumor is more is on its way this weekend. A Nor'Easterner. Joy. Can hardly wait. Not sure where we'll put it, but we've been here before. 

I did a class last night asynchronously, because the University shut down, but we are open for tonight, so it will be week 2 for The Literate Learner. I will have to stretch before teaching, as I'm afraid body parts will fall off of me after yesterday's heavy exercise. That is something...heavy snow, that is. 

Karal did not get a walk. We will try this week, but I can't imagine too many of the sidewalks have been cleared, and that will make for complicated terrain. 

Okay, Tuesday. Monday was spent in physical labor. Let's get back to the work week. 

It's Been a Minute...But That Was Some Snow. Okay, Connecticut. You Got What They Said We Would.

It snowed almost every minute of the day yesterday, beginning with light fluffy stuff, and then moving to wet, heavy, and mixed crud. The winds were doing on things, so I was happy that it blew most of the back porch away. The front yard, though. I went out twice to stay ahead of it, and I learned my CNY snowblower find of 15 years has finally kicked the bucket. She was a great machine that helped me to survive the doctoral winters. Without the machine, I will be laboring with leg, arm, and back. 

I spent most the morning working on the 1st class (tonight), which had to be moved asynchronously, creating the night, the activities, and the video instruction. Of course, I'll have to transition today to Tuesday's course, figuring out if we'll be in person or online like tonight. I'll have open house on ZOOM, though, so students who want to can stop by and introduce themselves.

I also turned on the Patriots game in Denver, as I figured it would be a good game. They, too, look like they are under the weather (with snow, that is). Brrrrr.

I'm glad I made the tip roast, because it, with the horseradish sauce, is simply too wonderful. 

Alright...need prep myself for the shoveling. Ugh. Happy Monday, y'all. 

Definitely a Sweater of Many Years...at Least 34 Years, But I Still Pull It Out on the Extreme Days. Irish Knit. Aran Islands Proud

I was 19 years old when I lived in London and traveled to Dublin, Galways, the Aran Islands, and the eastern seaboard. I also had no money and had to be thrifty, so when I found an Irish-knit sweater in Galway (no idea what I paid), I picked it up. I used it as temperatures fluctuated, and it came back to be to Binghamton, then to Louisville, back to Syracuse, and now in Stratford. It shows no sign of wear and tear and I have to think, "Why aren't we all making clothing that lasts this long?" It's sustainable (and warm) on all levels.

My Saturday was uneventful. I went to the store to get carrots but now realize I never got carrots. Oh, well. I seared a rib tip roast, then baked it in the oven, and served it with green beans and mashed potatoes. I also picked up a horseradish sauce and rolls for sandwiches during the week. I followed online recommendations, but was saddened that it probably cooked too long as it was just barely pink. I wanted it medium rare. It's still delicious, though.

I also worked on Monday's class which will have to be asynchronous with the University being closed and put away laundry. I told Karal, "We only get one block. It hurts out there."

I am set for today. Cinnamon rolls and brownies, should the sweet tooth desire it (although I imagine the cinnamon rolls will do the trick in the morning). The snow is just starting to fall, so it will be a long day of deciding if I should take care of some of it at the halfway point (Syracuse style), just to stay on top of it. At least the temperatures will rise to the mid-twenties and not be the single digits of the last day. 

Meanwhile, the aggressive force of unnecessary armed agents continue to do as they do, only to be defended by Sauron, Voldemort, Sheeve Palpatine, their Orks, and their Storm Troopers. The Deatheaters have returned and we are living 1984 meets Brave New World meets Fahrenheit 451. We are not to believe what we see with our own eyes, but to listen to their fabricated narratives and untruths.

I hope democracy will hold strong like the knitted sweater I'm using to keep me warm.

Philip Roth's Plot Against America is coming to life in 2024...although written in 2004, to reimagine the 1940s. And that's where we are.  

I Believe Karal Is Onto the Forthcoming Snow-pacolypse, as She's Been Hunkered on the Couch Since She Got Up Yesterday

Seriously, the dog looked at me yesterday like, "You know we're about to be hibernating, right? Why you moving about as you do?" She was good for a long walk (needed to get one in), but I suspect she sensed the downtrodden temperatures and all the shoveling ahead. In fact, the only moves she was willing to make from under blankets were onto my lap where she could soak up all my body heat.

Friday was a day of CWP planning and meetings, followed by a good pizza from Paradise, a splurge of several children's books sent my way for review, and prep for the weekend where, I imagine, it will all be spent indoors.

The University already announced closure on Monday, with hints it'll unlikely be reopened by Tuesday. That means we'll be doing online instruction this week (they can hate me all I want, but I don't want to fall behind the schedule. We still have to make it through February and March). It's been quite a while (2013) since we've had this much white stuff predicted to fall from the sky.

I hate when the temperatures get like this because everything seems to be frozen, cracking, and ready to fall apart. I think of my Tug Hill friends in upstate, NY, and wonder how they do this almost on a daily basis. Yes, they have their snowmobiles, but the thick of it all gets old fast.

Here's to warmth, hot cocoa, good food, game time with families, and a warm-up as soon as it is willing to come.

Sailor's Delight, Pink Sky at Night. I Guess We Need to Ready Ourselves for a Similar Sight in the Morning on Sunday. Snow in the Forecast.

It was a long day of faculty presentations in nursing, as candidates are coming out way. I made some headway on CWP work, but not enough and will have to hunker in this weekend. My NYC neighbor, Paul, who has kept himself mother's house next door (she passed in Poland) asked me to plow his driveway and gave me permission to use that snowblower if mine won't start. We'll see what comes this way, but I'm glad the 50-degree temperatures today melted most of the remaining ice, especially that on the back patio. I worried about snow piling on that. 

Oona provided dinner last night, so I bought a bottle of wine and $10 in lottery tickets. We won $18, which never happens, so we are up $8 (I told her we'd used it for the next dinner). 

I also finished Reservoir Dogs, and have to say I loved the entire series, although I'm sad now not to have distraction from the insanity that has become our U.S. government, not only nationally, but globally. I am hearing Hegel...every civilization bears the seed of its own destruction Seeing it play out like it has played out in the many nations that have resulted in refugee camps for displaced people is weighing on my brain. I am thinking of Lumah Mufleh's chapter in Learning America, where she replays how quickly things fall apart by using Tennessee, Kentucky, Indiana, and Ohio as an example. Her upbringing in Jordan prepared her for keeping governments in question, especially when they turn on its own people

The sky caught my attention, and the outline along the trees sort of took the shape of Kentucky and I couldn't help but think of my formative years teaching in Kentucky, and the beautiful, diverse young people I was fortunate to teach. Our nation's children deserve so much better from us. I'm not sure how many are paying attention to how schools are being decimated, but what has always been bad has turned almost impossible. It is sad to see this, especially in buildings that have been built to equal the playing fields for all kids. 

Only time will tell. The skies, though, they'll continue showing their magic when they can. Humans, however...not the same kind of awe.

Looking Ahead to April (with Warmer Temperatures, Poetry, a Little Singing, and Composing with Youth)

Funny how I saw a window on Wednesday and somehow filled it with 14-hours of work, planning, writing, organizing, communicating, (grading again), and thinking. I did see an eye doctor and dilation is such a joy. Also love the pffft air-test, too. New glasses will arrive in 7-10 days. I told them, "I'm a nerd. I'm okay with nerdy glasses." 

Karal and I got a walk in, but it was too cold for the long one. We cut it to a couple of miles alone (and it's going to be a rough few day with storms looking inevitable Sunday night. I'm already prepping my students for the likelihood for online meetings. I just finished a winter session. I've got the ZOOM teaching down pat. 

The temperature dropping, though, does not thrill me, because it's already too cold. Single digits are no fun, unless you're a kid and getting birthday cupcakes and candles for them.

I did begin to deliver copies of Dr. Karen Karbiener's Walt Whitman for Children books, as that is a major project I'm working on this Spring.

And checking my calendar, I see that I need to be on campus most of today for a faculty search in nursing...bring our first candidate today. I'm on 3 searches this semester and they can wipe you out, especially during these winter months when the interviews are in full swing. 

Ah, but I need to get going...but I did by a roast to crock pot to get through the weekend. I just need to get carrots. I'm ready for the comfort food for the cold-streak ahead.

Another Spectacular Day, this Time with Middle School Students at Flood in Stratford, CT. @TorreyMaldonado is the Best. He Gets Kids.

The weekend started with a lost wallet and ended with a misplaced backpack. Thankful for Torrey and me, both were bound and all ended well...actually, much better than well....SUPERB. It's hard to put into words how much a spectacular presenter will resonate with young people, especially an author that writes the books they understand, that represent them, and that inspire them to be better human beings. 

That's the craft of Torrey Maldonado, and yesterday we did another HANDS Along the Sound with the writer in Stratford, Connecticut, and the amazing Dr. Chandra Maxwell. She initiated the return and brought us to a new buildings....same brilliance of the district's kids.

Torrey fused together his writerly craft, his personal story, the magic of the moment (another book birthday yesterday, JUST RIGHT, and the full circle narrative that simply inspires kids. We did two rounds...one with 7th and another with 8th, and the kids were eating every word he threw at them. The 7th graders were quieter, but I've never seen a crew so in awe of a presentation before. The 8th graders were a little more interactive, but when the presentation ended, they charged the stage to meet him.

Torrey autographed every single book. The teachers (and the kids) all reported it was, hands down, the best assembly they ever attended. We were equally impressed when they offered us a full-spread brunch after his 1 hour presentation turned into two. The experience was beyond anything I could put into writer. Let's just say, a soul touched middle-grade souls...both the educators and the learners.

I went to campus afterward and taught a graduate course, still inspired by the day activities. The class went exceptionally well, and I came home to know that THE WRITE TIME with Torrey Maldonado and Tracey Flores was out.

Today, however, is Wednesday. I need to take a moment and think about the last 365 days without any time off and wonder, "How will you heal, guy? How will you heal?"

A Wonderful Day at the Yale Peabody Museum MLK Celebration with Teachers, Young Readers, and Author @TorreyMaldonado

I can't imagine a more spectacular way to celebrate the legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. on January 19th than to debut a new book with young readers and getting the craft into the hands of kids. It was standing room only and I'm thrilled to have partnered with Possible Futures bookstore in New Haven, a community-focused literacy hub, and the Yale Peabody Museum. Author Torrey Maldonado proved exactly why he is an educator, writer, and brilliant spokesperson for the reading materials young people need in school. 

The Connecticut Writing Project at Fairfield University was thrilled to work with teacher leaders in support of the event and to see so many young people and their families in attendance. The smiles were amazing and the joy of hearing the author read his new work left an impression they will carry them for quite a while (one young man was so proud of the book, he was reluctant to hand it over to the author for an autograph). He held the book tight to his chest as if to say, "No way, sir. You're not getting this book away from me."

Lucky for us, we debuted the book in southern Connecticut as its official release date is today, January 20th, and is now available for order through Possible Futures, or anywhere you love to get great books for kids. The day was absolutely incredible, and now we head of to a local middle school to share the book there, but also to get classroom sets of Hands into the hands of adolescent readers in honor of Martin Luther King's legacy and celebrations. 

Today begins the first night of graduate classes and after the school visits, I'm off to start another semester of literacy excellence and demonstration of why diverse books matter in the hands of our children. I am entering this Tuesday with tremendous pride for the work we do and what is possible when great minds unite in support of young people and the reading opportunities we give them. 

St. Anthony and I Bonded Yesterday. I'm Thankful Lois Introduced Me to Him, Because He Comes in Handy When I Need HIm.

Long story short. I lost my wallet. 

I spent all morning preparing for the first week of classes, as I know the next two days are with Torrey Maldonado celebrating MLK in the region. Around 3, I grabbed Karal, we hopped in the car, and I headed to Big Y to get grocery items. When I got to the parking lot, though, I got out of the car, did my usual pat-down, and couldn't find my wallet. I searched if it fell, I checked every crevice of the car, and then I returned home thinking, "Oh, I left it on the dining room table."

Nope. I couldn't find it anywhere.

So, I left Karal at home, returned to the parking lot, searched everywhere again and went inside to see if anyone turned it in. Nope. Left my number and came home to tear apart the house once more.

Dear at Anthony look around something’s lost and can’t be found

St. Anthony, perfect imitator of Jesus, who received from God the special power of restoring lost things, grant that I may find what has been lost. I can't find my wallet and I know I had it in my hands before I left, but I guess I did not. ​At least restore to me peace and tranquility of mind, the loss of which has afflicted me even more than my material loss. To this favor, I ask another of you: that I may always remain in possession of the true good that is God. Let me rather lose all things than lose God, my supreme good. Let me never suffer the loss of my greatest treasure, eternal life with God. Amen.

St. Anthony, helper in all necessities, pray for me.

It ended up being in the large, blue recycling bin. It was in my hand with a couple of items when I was shifting Karal to the car to go to the groceries. I had a brief flashback that I accidentally put a few recycling items in the garbage bin. I also recalled tossing a little plastic bottle and tiny box into the green bin before I left. I thought, "What if I had my wallet in the same hand?"

Sure enough, that's exactly what I did. I'm chalking it up to exhaustion and middle age. There is nothing more aggravating than a lost item, especially one that is central to existence (as I was thinking, How will three days hosting an author go when I don't have my license or credit cards, especially when Katniss needs gas?). 

I am very, very grateful that The Great Whatever resolved the issue after the two hours of total panic. Okay, MLK Day...now it's for you.  

It always brings me back to the time when Aaron Martinson hid my car keys outside the windows of room 301 at the Brown School and forgot to tell me. He didn't remember he did that until a week later and I was trapped without a way to move my vehicle.  

Special House Guest for a Saturday Snowfall. Rico Had Play Time on Mt. Pleasant and Loved Chasing the Snowflakes

I knew I was aiming for a lazy day (and by lazy, it simply means editing a manuscript, watching college basketball, planning spring courses, and organizing grants. I knew Pam was going to a birthday party so I invited her to bring Rico to me so he'd have the day with Glamis, the backyard, and company. The way he plays is hilarious. Karal is inclined to hide under tables and offer a friendly attack, whereas he runs into the other room and come bouncing, Tigger-style, down a hallway. Both of them box one another with their paws. They did this in rounds for four hours straight. 

There was only one point they settled down on the couch, but I dropped something, startling Rico, and he was not going to nap after that. He's quite the nervous dog.

I did a mini-grocery run to get toothpaste (of all things to run out of) and noodles to go with a chicken dish (was looking to change things up). 

I knew in the evening, however, I wanted to tack season 3 of Reservation Dogs, which I'm loving. I'm especially loving the young actress, Paulina Alexis (Wǎgíyaŋ Čížaŋ or Young Eagle) who plays Willie Jacket. Her character is punky, biting, witty, naive, curious, spiritual, and genuinely good-natured, which makes her fascinating given the circumstances she and the others find themselves in. Bev and Leo told me it was nominated for several awards, and won a few, and I was glad that others are recognizing the brilliance of the storytelling. It is simple, yet deep. Comical, yet poignant and historical. I'm glad I finally stumbled upon it.

We're do for a few more inches today, mixed with freezing rain, which can cause travel trouble for my buddy Torrey Maldonado who is coming to CT for MLK events. Only time will tell. We know scheduling anything in January and February is a risk. And so we roll the die...we roll the die. We'll see what the tea leaves try to tell us.

Hello, Sunday.

She Knows I Finished Grading, Uploaded Grades, and Emailed Students so When I Left the Room She Took Over My Seat to Ask, "Now What?"

The truth is, Karal, I don't know what comes next. 

As finished yesterday - the four week marathon of non-stop winter session work - I realized I haven't had a second to be much of anything other than Dr. Bryan Ripley Crandall. It's been all or nothing for most of the break, meeting with students, guiding proposals, keeping them enthused, grading work, editing work, revising, supporting, planning class, creating support videos, etc. So, when the last email was sent yesterday afternoon, I was kind of numb. The numbness lasted the rest of day. 

I ran a few errands. I reheated a dinner I started a load of laundry. I stared into space. 

Actually, I answered a couple of the trillion emails I've been ignoring and thought about heading to a bar, but knew that was dumb and not my style. It's also very cold again and the thought of leaving the house brought misery, so I laid low. I fixed a couple of NWP issues on their website side, I read the news (and caught up, but regretted that I did), and she did get a walk.

The emails from administrators and colleagues returning to work after their break are trickling in, and it's hard not to see the hair stand up on my arms. Really? You hope I'm refreshed and ready for another semester? Ummmm. It's been a year and there has not been a break. Sadly, I know returning means only hearing all the reasons why individuals like me need to do more. Fascinating, actually. 

Reclaiming my time. Self-care. Mental Health. All of this means that I need to wrap my arms around CWP work, the students I teach, the national organizations I belong to, and to resist taking on all the roles of departed colleagues who have no been replaced. That's the best I can do...and there's no way I can do any more than I've already been doing. 

Seriously. I cannot can any closer to the edge of such insanity.

Post Holiday Gathering at Parker to Pull Me Away from Grading. Can't Go Wrong with a Meal Cooked by Others. French Dip Sandwich

I got through some of the research proposals and have an agenda for another day of success. Also purchased a new Christmas tree, super discounted by about $500 dollars (with a coupon), got a hair cut, picked up 200 copies of a book to distribute to CT teachers, and walked a dog. A good day, I suppose, indeed...but I'm still feeling winded. My brain needs a sabbatical.

I also got a box of newly released European children's books that are exquisite, and am getting ready for a prolific MLK weekend in New Haven and Stratford. 

I even folded the last round of laundry (for now) and feel caught up with that. I should mention, too, that I replaced the coffee pot that went kaput, but I'm not sure why I paid so much for some plastic and heating coil, especially since I imagine it, too, will be short-lived. I am blaming that on the industry.

The temperatures have dropped, snow is possible, and I'm perfectly content with a weekend under blankets to grade. It will take some time to recuperate from the "down-time" I wasn't allowed, but so definitely needed. 

It is what it is, and today is Friday, so I'll take it for what it is. Sleep. The answer is sleep. As long as I get sleep. 

And This is Exactly How It Went Down Yesterday Morning (as I Probably Should Have Predicted Because I Know Too Well)

I was up at 7 a.m. ready to tackle the research proposals that came in. Then a smattering of email requests came in, followed by a few text exchanges (things needing to be done, which I got to). By 9 a.m. I felt that twitching in the back of my eyes and thought, "Oh, snap. I haven't had a migraine in years." I tried to grade, but then my sinuses were coming out of my ear and my stomach wasn't enjoying much. The light on the computer was too much, too, so I laid on the couch under a blanket. It was too bright. I tried my bed. Too bright.

I ended up in the room Abu swears is the best sleeping room because the shades keep it dark all day long. 

I took a yoga class in college and it taught me how to totally relax. I personally think the fact that I haven't had a break since last January finally caught up with me (and was exacerbated by the 4-week winter session). I made it...we made it...but as yesterday started to move forward (I had such great plans) I became paralyzed. 

Lucky for me, I only ran once to the bathroom to vomit (dry nothing) and then I fell to sleep and calmed the pressure down. By 4 pm I was up, walked Karal to get fresh air, and was able to read some of the projects. I felt it coming back after a few, though, so I laid low. Hoping for better success today. I've taken allergy medicine, sprayed my nose a billion times, stood under a very hot shower....anything to relieve the pressure in my forehead, eyes, and nose. I think I succeeded, but it's never fun.

I am not very good at sitting still ever...Even when I'm sitting, I'm multitasking. I know, too, that to combat a migraine I must go into complete mental calm, which is hard for a manic brain that is always thinking about everything all the time (and my brain is so creative...it doesn't like to shut down).

Today is another day. I"m hoping for more success...any success.

And does't another coffee maker kick the bucket. These machines don't last more than a couple of months. I'm off to find caffeine.

30 Graduate Course Hours, 25 Action Research Projects Were Proposed. Success at our Tuesday Night Summit

And I crock-potted that chicken, soaked it in Tikka Masala sauce, and then heated it after frying up peppers, mushrooms, and onions. Served it over rice. A 15-minute prep after overseeing the presentations of 25 graduate projects. I had them do self-evaluations, as well as course evaluations and although named the course as cruel, horribly timed, and illogical in the weeks leading up to student teaching, they also cherished the opportunity, are proud of what they accomplished, and thankful for the instruction.

Alas...we're all in the same boat. The one thing the blood, sweat, and tears reminded me of is that this cohort is particularly special, intelligent, and engaged. They want to be teachers. They made a choice. They know it will be difficult, and how they can say they want it to be researched-backed practices they're after. They'll be collecting data of their own teaching in the months following and brought back to campus in the summer to analyze the results as part of their Capstone coursework.

The Masala sauce, though. Nice. Rumor is West Haven is wooing Wegman's to come this way...that's two towns over, as opposed the three towns in the opposite direction of where I live. Different kinds of traffic (a pain in the ass either way, but West Haven would be more feasible for trips. Norwalk has been too much of a glutton to really get there regularly).

This particular cohort was a mix of elementary, math, history, English, and science teachers. The medley and personal research interests is what made it exciting. I'm very intrigued by the projects on social-emotional learning, as behaviors arriving from frustration, youthfulness, and regulation are complicated at this age. In schools where I've seen the best learning occurring in the most classrooms, it is because the school has a tremendous program that teaches mindfulness and self-awareness at the core. 

Of course, this now means the 24 hours ahead are for grading. Projects are actually due at 9 p.m. tonight but I'm hoping to stay on them as they trickle in. I've seen all the parts from the majority, so it should simply be the final touches. 

I've been loving the weather, too. I know that is about to change as a new cold is heading our way. Ugh. I was beginning to think it was over...

...as if.

As of 8 pm this Evening, I Will be Crossing the Finish Line with the 25 Graduate Students Enduring the Winter Session under My Care

I look forward to simply reading the finished projects. A vast majority got on top of the work over the weekend and are in good shape. The last class is to tighten this, present, and then release them for a week without having to the burden of a research proposal hanging over them. Yes, grading is still a burden on my shoulders, but because the parts were coached in segments, I'm not overly stressed of the final products (except for a couple who have not paced themselves accordingly). 

What's the saying about taking a horse to the trough, but unable to get them to drink?

If life works like I hope it will, I'll be crock-potting chicken in the new system some time today. I did everything in my power not to get fast food last night to make my life easier. I cooked falafel, cut up a cucumber and tomatoes, had pita bread, and made a sandwich. It was a mental respite I very much needed. 

I can't think of the volumes of work I've neglected as a result of teaching the winter session course, and the deadlines I pushed to the side to survive will need my attention. Of course, there's the spring courses as well.

The last bit of student work for the day came in at 8:30 pm last night and I got to it. Not sure how, but I'm committed, despite the absolute exhaustion. More will arrive today, but I hope the night's sleep will be restorative so I can re-energize. 

God Bless Us, All of Us.

I Remember That Gap Jean Jacket I Bought Myself (Rare Self Indulgence). Thinking About It as I'm Mindful of the Weird Gaps in My Life Right Now

Somewhere between 1987 and 1990 I splurged. Those who know me best know how frugal I am, and that I can wipe out a clearance rack like no other, especially when I feel like I'm getting a deal and giving it back to the corporations that trick the consumer. I'm really good at it, and in high school, as I started making my own money, I remember I splurged once on a jean jacket from the Gap Outlet that used to in Cicero. I think it is an auto parts store now. Cynde borrowed the jacket on a trip to some Caribbean Island with Julie and Maureen, I believe, and that jacket never found its way home. 

I do remember, however, it was a GAP jacket which was foo foo fee for me.

I'm thinking about that word "gap" as the graduate researchers are reviewing literature and not necessarily looking for gaps in the research (this isn't a dissertation, after all), but gaps in their own thinking as they wrestle with a teacher action research project. It's not an exhaustive literature review, but one can be accomplished in a four-week course over the holidays when everyone has simply been craving a break.

I realized yesterday, too (thanks to many), that I haven't had any break this holiday season and it's been go-go-go-go-go. Still, there have been tiny gaps in the schedule when I've caught up with student work at moments when I didn't need to prepare the next class or assess any more of the student work that was coming in.

That happened last night over cake, gorgonzola meatball sandwiches, a Karal/Rico romp on Walnut Beach and conversations (via the phone) with Chitunga and Pam. It was a nice distraction. I was delighted, too, that while I took advantage of the gap in the winter session chaos, only two students emailed me with more items to be graded. I got to them before I shut the computer down and said, "I'm done for this weekend."

How many weeks and weekends have it been sacrificed for the good of students and our program? Four, to be honest. But it's almost done.

In Sudan, wood is sometimes wedged between teeth because the gaps are seen as sexually appealing. Perhaps this post, and all its gaps, is simply to be an aphrodisiac to my Sudanese friends. It is doubtful, but we have to laugh where we can. 

Omelet You Know...I Made a Good Gorgonzola Sauce, Had a Wonderful Brunch, and Ate Too Much Like a King Yesterday

The rain can do that. Keep you indoors to cook, and when you have the right ingredients, and breaks in the grading schedule...I caught up...why not cook for yourself and, later, cook for friends.

Meatballs in gorgonzola sauce. Superb.

But I need to move beyond the good eating and get back to rabbit food. The holidays are over, we're 11 days into the new year, the graduate course has only two more classes before another semester begins, and truthfully, I need rest and a reset. I need to find a way to make it through the Spring. My whole life I've heard, "Crandall, you're going to burn yourself out." I'm high energy and resisted. If it is for the students and good for the world, I always find more oomph to get through. 

My oomph has dissipated. I need to step back for a little bit and run at a 7 for a while...a C on the grading scale. Perhaps, I even need to enter the failed stated and just sleep. 

I expect many more projects today. The classes for Monday and Tuesday, however, are planned. I just need to record, organize, share with the crew, and keep the pom poms shiny to cheer them to the finish line.

And I need to put laundry away. Organize all my damn books. Appreciate 'time away' even when I don't have time away (at least there's no meanings - that's a blessing). But I know I await the return of those who didn't have to give up four weeks to a winter session so students can graduate at time. I know I have the ears returning, too, who don't seem to hear that this has all become too impossible...to cruel. But it has. I am being honest. 

I need to find the way to recharge. 

Friday Fish Fry at Bar 3 Thirty 3 in Milford was the Highlight of a Friday Loaded with Grading and Guiding Graduate Research Projects

I am thankful for Drs. Nels Pearson and Emily Orlando who introduced me to Rosie and Carlos, their beagle pooches after a late food gathering at Bar 3 Thirty Three in Milford. Despite my apprehensions for fried food, I went with fried fish to break away from the meatball fetish of the last week. Nels has a new book about to release, and I love Emily's piece on tortured hearts and Taylor Swift...she might make me understand the Swift fetish and Edith Wharton yet. 

I love the company, scholarship, great minds, and passion of their pups. Rosie, just a puppy, was a delight and I loved the friskiness. There's something adorable about all puppies. 

I'm taking advantage of the rain predictions to make more headway on the winter session grading, and am so thankful for the English Department colleagues who offer happiness, joy, and possibility to the academic side of life on campus. They are super powers and I appreciate their guidance immensely. 

As for the nostril situation, the dryness, the winter grog, and the nose issues, I'm ready for them to subside.

I expected a lot of howling from Carlos and Rosie, but they were more love bugs than anything else. Great dispositions.

When I learned they got Rosie I found a peacock stuffed animal which she loved and I was thrilled that she was willing to share it with me. She's a cuddler, but also a playful gal ready for tug-of-war and any attention she can get. 

All in all, it was a nice way to get away from the grind for the evening, but I'll be back at it today (with a box of tissues). 

Here's to puppy breath.

Recorded the First Episode of THE WRITE TIME in 2026 Last Night and Feel Some Hope Because of the Beautiful People I Adore

Torrey Maldonado is debuting his first children's book on January 20th and CWP-Fairfield will be with him for the love-fest. Last night, on the show, we reunited Tanya Baker, Tracey Flores, and the author in anticipation of the publication and to bring possibilities to our network. Just Right is just in time, because we need 'just right' moments to remind us about human kindness, mentoring, parenting, and doing good for the young people in our care.

The grading continues. Karal continues to get a walk in. The challenges of the job continue. My sinus cavities continue, as well as the exhaustion. It is what it is.

Yesterday was also Maureen Polacci's birthday and it is always a day that brings a reminder of love, family, faith, and hope my way. I reached out to Laura, her daughter, and simply shared the fact that I can only smile at the genuine greatness of her mother. She passed, age 50...a runner, a fighter, a nurse, a Class of 1990 Northstar, a dear friend, and a total joy to know. One of my angels. One of my many rays of light. 

I am holding onto Maureen and last night's recording to get through the next week as I imagine it will be brutal...the opening usually is when other faculty start to return to campus and get back to their groove and the emails. There's all the planning, too. 

I'm tired of meatballs...but I'm happy they were made and are easy to heat up. Compliments came from Pam who is a meatball snob, who approved of this batch. I got a thumbs up and that made my day, because next to my mom's recipe, I've always enjoyed those made by Pam. I'll take the win.

Okay, Friday...bring on the grading weekend-fest. Alas. We're getting there.

Keep the fight going. Our young people need nothing but the best from us.

Crock-potted within the Winter Session Chaos and Eager to Get This Bad Boy Into Action for the Upcoming Semester

The marathon (actually sprint) continues as, yet, another night class is completed. The graduated students are getting their goods into place and I'm trying my best to keep up with the email, lessons, teaching, and grading. Karal, the needy, neurotic dog has taken to climbing upon my lap in my chair making the work even more challenging, but I have to laugh at her dedication (and reminder) that there should be life beyond all this labor. 

Every Christmas, my parents give me money to do something for me and this year I knew it would be to replace a crockpot that was on the brink of its life. It worked, but barely, and I'm a big user of the pile-it-in, and forget-about-it way of cooking during the busy seasons of my life. It's now on Mt. Pleasant and it will be put to great use. I'm still in my meatball-eating phase and each day the sauce gets better for the spaghetti that goes with it, but after three days I'm ready for some change. This happens every time I find time to make it. 

I'm readying myself for more project flying in, but I went to bed last night knowing I couldn't do any more because my eyeballs were falling onto my knees. I sit at home shaking my head at the pace a winter session takes and debating whether or not any compensation is worth the stress, especially when this is in addition to all the other work I have to do, including preparation for the semester (and summer) to come. Of course, returning amongst colleagues who aren't as willing to do for the students (or asked) is also on the radar, and I'm trying to adjust my attitude and emotions. It's wrong, but it's what I've known to be synonymous with the work. Once upon a time there were others to work with...those days have disappeared. If only it was easy to find work I love in a location that is healthier for those who work. 

One dreams. Can't they?

But, as always, I'm here for the students and I remain steadfast on integrity and excellence and perhaps that is my curse.

Okay, it is my curse, indeed. I do this to myself and that is an area I've been trying to fight off for the last 5 years in a location that doesn't listen to the concerns expressed. I'm old enough to know I can't change any of it...just me. So that is what I need to prioritize. 

The 25 Graduate Students Were Abuzz About Season 5 of Stranger Things So I Did My Part and Caught Up with Them. Eh.

Eh. There were moments in the last season of Stranger Things where I was mesmerized by the series, but the verdict is out on whether or not it fulfilled its mission. I mean, I liked it, but I'm a sucker for mind candy and the effects in the storytelling, plus the use of 80s music was always a thrill. Was it too much? Probably. Was it silly? Definitely. Was I entertained? Absolutely. Would I recommend it? Of course. Was it perfect? Nope. But do I regret watching it? Eh.

I think I was most intrigued by the setting of 1989, and of course Winona Ryder was that iconic teenage actress from generation. I had my D&D playing friends and growing up with the fears of my generation: aliens, government, baby-booming adults, and MTV-motivated thinking about everything was what made the series a delight. I guess I never realized the campiness of our times. It was pretty dorky. 

The last episode, especially the go-around of the final scene of playing D&D triggered a memory of my mid-20s in Louisville. A girl, Rachel, I lived with in London was taking her acting skills to California to find her big break and stayed with me as she was traveling West. She was coming alone but at a last minute a guy she broke up with jumped in her car, so he came, too. This is pre-Internet and cellphones, and we were in love with our youth. At one point we did a 14 mile hike around the city (because our bones were okay with that) and on the way we had a Canterbury Tales approach to the day. Rachel went forward with her perfect movie of drugs, sex, screw-the-establishment hype-fest as a perfect tale, whereas her vagabond boyfriend was all about World War III and aliens as his perfect flick. I was simply about a story where three people were talking about life sharing their ideas of a perfect movie. 

For some reason, Stranger Things resonated with me as a fusion of all three of these tales, although the drugs and sex were not part of the series at all. Instead, the focus on youthful fears, monsters, 80s game play and music were the focus of the story. It made sense that the 1989 narrative would have all the elements it did, and the campiness of the show hit on the innocence of that time, but with the magic of modern-day effects. It worked. I think I watched the entire series knowing that this was a total throwback to the times we lived: the influences, the cultural craziness, and the total distraction of such films/shows to keep us entertained, because that is what we were used to. So it works.

And the generation got older, but such a show would appeal to us and our kids. I think that is the hoopla of it all. Anyway, it is done. I taught four hours last night, and I am friend. Four more to go tonight, although I have a plan to lighten the load on us all. I am just sad that I don't the distraction each night after I unwind for the day. I need something else to take my mind off the world because, as someone graduated in 1990, I'm used to this. Live my day and escape at night. It's the way my generation was raised to be. 

I guess I'll go back to cooking shows to entertain me. Of course, I also have to grade. Such are winter sessions. 

Random Gift in the Snail Mail. A Sticker from a Student in the Class of 1998. Seems to Look Good with One of My Many Lily Pad Gatherings

Beep. Beep. Bitch.

I guess that is a good sign for 2026. A mantra of sorts. Tiana French, mother of two boys and graduate from 1998, J. Graham Brown School, sent it from her sons' collections. I'll take it. Seems like a decent sticker for Mt. Pleasant. 

I just ate a meatball sandwich and finished teaching the 4th winter session class. Two more this week and there more next week. We're getting there. The amount of flexibility it takes to make it through this class with the varying needs of students is astounding: teaching, vacations, other jobs, family, and the other holiday demands. I am definitely hoping this is the last time this will be offered in the winter session. I hope that the adaptions we made are enough to get it into a full semester. The accommodations were made because of different agendas and a different time. Surprise! It was brought back to my plate again (and with two sessions).

I drove to campus today to get a change of scenery and learned I received two more grants, although the one I hope to be there was not. They are a random crew and I never know when I will hear from them. I also thought I'd work from my office, but the faculty email was down. I couldn't get online. The series of questions I had for the Dean's Office, too, had to wait as the Deans weren't in yet. Well, the assistant dean was and she helped when she returned from a meeting. I came home to be productive. 

I spend much time revving up the students, but also need to find a way to rev myself up, because it's go-go-go, sunrise to sunset, as materials from the class come in and immediately need to be assessed and sent back so everyone is successful.

Beep. Beep. Bitch. 

It's a mantra that works. I see one of my Buddhas in the background. I need my emblems to stay sane and focused. I'm more Zen than cussing Frog, but when I'm on edge...well, look out world.

Time to prep for tonight. Phew. Boot camp, indeed. 

My Once A Year Meatball Fest to Channel Papa Butch and Mimi Sue for Childhood Spaghetti and Weeklong Sauce

I debated what I wanted to make for the week, because hamburger meat has gotten expensive, but it was on sale and I am/was tired of rice. I finished grading around 2 pm, headed to Big Y, and sought the trouble I might get in. Karal was walked, I craved comfort food, and so I went to town.

The result was 36 meatballs, 12 in the sauce (the rest to the freezer) and past festival for the rest of the week. It will be a tough one with classes, graduate student frustration, and the total need of me standing with pom-poms cheering on the impossible. They can do it.

I retired to Stranger Things in the evening with a long conversation with Chitunga who had a flight back to Des Moines with a layover in Atlanta. He's been on a two-week adventure and needs to return to his own grind, after spending the weekend recharging with Sue and Dave.

The meatballs came out great, but the sauce is lacking something (maybe it is simply the first night before it thickens up and absorbs all the peppers and spices I put into it. Usually tastes better on night two, and Lord knows it is wonderful to soak up with some fresh bakery bread. 

We have three nights this week and I push them a little at a time so they're all successful. I am tired of the dry nostrils, too, and blowing out what Kaitlin and Pam call potato chips. I say it is corn flakes. I think it is time to hook up the ol' humidifier again to get some moisture in my sleeping space. 

As for Delightful Derrick...Stranger Things found my spirit animal. I feel seen. 

The Canine Companion Approves of the Rearranged Furniture, Bay Window Light, and Down Time for Grading and Getting on Top of the Week

Karal and did our four mile hike in the morning, knowing that the rest of the day was going to be spent catching up on student work, writing promotional letters for faculty across the nation, and watching college basketball (although I wasn't invested in any of the games). Around 7 p.m. I completed the goal for the day and settled into more episodes of Stranger Things, season 5. The new bedspread and sheets are on the bed (a little too frilly, but that's what I get for buying materials during a major clearance sale). I'll live with what it is.

I wanted to get on top of grading so that today, Sunday, might allow for some flexibility to actually enjoy what is technically the last day of winter break before K-12 schools head back to the grind. It remains cold, but temperatures look to climb over the week (after two more days of arctic), so I'm hoping for longer, more enjoyable walks. 

I am carrying with me in the New Year my sweet tooth and have been looking for the occasional piece of chocolate or cookie fix. It's best that it's not in the house, as carrot sticks and broccoli are better alternatives (for rabbits, but walruses need to be careful, too).

I had great dreams Friday night...adventure stories in fantasy lands and I like the protagonist my imagination allowed me to play. I was finding very odd portals that even my claustrophobic mindset didn't seem to mind. The tight tunnels were only temporary, and I loved how one gave me the power to swim under water without the need of oxygen or equipment. Of course, I woke up and the predictable disappointment of the real world quickly snapped me back to the news of the day.

I also finished Viola Davis's memoir, Finding Me. It was just the epilogue, but I wanted to move on to the next book, Ta-Nehisi Coates Between Me and the World. Chapter one brought me to the reality of our nation that I've known for most of my life. I live in the country, after all, and have witnessed the racism on a daily basis. History, when it comes first, reveals all the truths quite loud and clear. It's just that many in power (or cloaked in ignorance) choose not to see it and simply reify their prejudice by claiming such history is irrelevant and doesn't matter. It's maddening, and I can only imagine having to live it in the day to day...trying to find hope and possibility in a land that wants to use your body for its own narrative. Already I'm seeing it coupling with The Incredibly Human Henson Blayze by Derrick Barnes. 

I'm going back to grading assignments that came overnight and need to set a plan of action for the week, as the work is doable, but needs to be strategically layers for the students to succeed. I'm all in and it is exhausting...this is only because I have this unwavering need to do it right.

But there will be more basketball today, so all will be well. I only wish volleyball season lasted as long.

Friday Game Night. This Results When an Extended Weekend Presents Itself. Humor. Friends. Cocktails. Wit.

It's been a minute since we've had a game night, and I thought they were crazy pulling us together in this cold, but it was a great way to unwind for an evening, to be silly, and to see so many of my friends competitive and silly, even in the games were, well, wonky, especially Wonky Doodle, the game my mom recommended to my sisters for the holiday because she saw it online. Many of the photographs were actually pornographic because the pen, itself, is rather phallic. 

Pam also bought me a magnetic word game, where you grab a pile of words and have to respond to a prompt where your language play is either selected by the judge as most clever, or bypassed for someone else's ability to put words onto a metal plate. I loved this game and could play for hours, because I never tire of lying possibilities into sequence for clever play and imagination. 

It remains cold, though. I stay determined to walk the dog and get outside (even if I readily admit I took a two hour nap under a blanket after we returned. My sinuses wanted me to rest and, quite frankly, my body is requesting I do the same. It's feeling the punch that my nonstop schedule delivers day to day, week to week). 

I need to get on grading today because the two weeks ahead are brutal and depends on my maturity to coach and cheer on the poor graduate students enrolled. We Got This! This is how teachers roll. Sadly, it is how teachers roll. It never ends. 

I also rewatched Stranger Things, Season 4, so I'll be ready to tackle the final season should I made time for it in the next few weeks. 

Of course, Day 3, I'm also learning that Google, which hosts Blogger (where I keep my daily blogs) is no longer playing nicely with Safari, an Apple browser, so doing a daily post is not as easy as it used to be. Seriously, I wish these big tech people would stop being greedy and simply allow those of us who operate in multimodal settings to simply do what we do, without all the nonsense of trying to get us to use this browser to that one, or subscribe to this company or the other. Just let us be creative in the capacities we want to be....

And with that...I'm moving on.

Ooof. It Hurts. I Spent New Year's Day Putting Away Holiday Decorations and Walked Karal Around 3. Ouch. That Wind Was Painful.

I used to say that anything above 32 degrees was humanly possible. I've now moved it to 42 degrees because my bones have hollowed. I don't think the negative temperatures with wind chills are cool at all...yes, the pun is intended.

Here's a truth. I was up until almost 1 a.m. on New Year's night finishing my end-of-the-year montage, and Cynderballz woke me up at 8:30 with a call from Syracuse. I didn't realize I slept so long, so immediately got up and started to take down holiday decorations and rearrange for the Spring semester. This didn't end until 7:30 p.m. when I realized I hadn't eaten anything. I did break to walk Karal, however, and I froze my #$#@$# off. It hurt, too. Then I returned to finish cleaning and rearranging. 

Home ownership. I have no idea how accumulated so much stuff and now I have to take care of it.

Spent most of last night talking with Chitunga who was on a layover in Chicago...processing his holiday, his road trip to the Villages, his first time to Tampa to visit Lys's sister. God I love this kid...his maturity amazes me each and every day. 

I set a goal to rewatch the last season of Stranger Things, so I would be fully attentive with the season just released, but the cleaning bug took over, and from the cleaning I simply got sore....cranky....and tired. Maybe I'll do that today. 

I am happy, however, that I crock-potted meals for the week, so I don't really have to cook. I should be good for one more day and will then have to start all over again.

I don't think the temperatures are supposed to break any time soon. But I do know it's Friday, and Thursday was New Year's Day, so now I have a weekend to relax and get on top of the universe some. Would love it if it was a wee bit warmer. 

Turning the Page Once Again. Hello, 2026, Looks Like We'll be Linking the World Together for Another Year. This is the 19th Round & This is a First Day Tradition

Yep. We're upon another year, and the one we just cultivated in 2025 is a thing of the past. I debated whether or not I was going to keep my daily tradition going, but I'm so close to 20 years and, at this point, I'm used to my daily habit of sharing my thinking online (naval gazing and hubris all the way). Truth is, the Class of 2007 asked me to blog when I started my doctorate at Syracuse. I had no idea what the hell they were talking about, but I taught myself and moved from my daily journals to digital platforms. The Internet has more readers than the dust mites on my shelf.

Anyway, this is another year for linking people, ideas, thoughts, and possibilities together (especially after a year of engineering human togetherness). I'm hoping to be writing our lives and bravely belonging very soon. I've been writing daily since I was 19 year-old and went abroad to London. At this point, it's simply a way of being and even if there are days where I'm not overly enthused to get on the computer more than I already am, I can't imagine heading to bed each night without a daily post. 

Also an end-of-the-year tradition, is the annual montage, a collection of images from the last 365 days. I set this year's memories in honor of Chuck Maglione, Roberta Flack, and Brian Wilson. I figured it would be good to think about the days that just were, with the incredible impact they had on the musical world. 

I'm looking forward to weaving together what I might for another year. Here's to 2026. May it bring more sanity to us all. 

colligate 

verb

LINGUISTICS

past tense: colligated; past participle: colligated

1. be or cause to be juxtaposed or grouped in a syntactic relation.

   "the two grammatical items are said to colligate"

Origin

mid 16th century (in the Latin sense): from Latin colligat- ‘bound together’, from the verb colligare, from col- ‘together’ + ligare ‘bind’. The current sense dates from the 1960s.