Around town at twilight

The light-spot is a streetlamp. I think my tree looks like a fork with salad on it. I think my ass looks like...well.... I'm workin' on it.

Photo 2 of 6 Owed

Antique browsing in the most incredible antique store on the West Coast.

The RevGals inspired me to try this on for size. Heh.

Jiggity jig

We are home again. The trip back was lengthy, lovely, rainy, dynamically cloudy. The hills were unbelievably green and covered in wild mustard and other random wildflower clusters. We listened to CDs of various books from Chronicles of Narnia the whole way up and back; it was nice to get back in touch with those books. We've only just begun The Last Battle, which will provide some interesting listening over the next week or so.

I did a good job of avoiding grading and cleaning today, though I'm already unpacked, which is a major step forward for me. :-)

Family is already out from Bible Belt for my dad's retirement party, which is in a week. It's going to be an interesting, exhausting, fun, take-it-a-day-at-a-time kind of week.

Retreatant: A Photo Essay

The breeze is cool. Stand in the sun if you want warmth. The sun, which glances off the ocean in the distance, which turns the eucalyptus into silhouette, which illuminates the cottontail I just saw hop across the pathway, is beginning to lower in the midafternoon sky.

I walk along the prayer path, camera in hand, ready to encounter God in nature. First I must remind myself to slow down. It is not enough to look. I must slow my pace, be still, know that he is God, know that the birds will come to those who go slowly, who stop, who wait, who breathe deeply and quietly.

One bird, a male, his brown mate hopping in the thicket below, sits, stares, refocuses, stares. He knows I am there, but he agrees to sit for a portrait, only if I don't come any closer.
The ruby-throated hummingbird knows I am there, too. He erupts out of his thicket, straight into the air, hovers and squawks with elegance, flies higher till I can no longer see him, even through my camera lens; then, mysteriously, invisibly, he returns to his thicket again, only to erupt for a repeat performance. He does this at least three times. I do not know if it is me he's trying to scare off or another intruding hummingbird. These ruby-throats all look alike to me at this distance.

The hawk pair wheels in the air, so high -- lazily, it appears from here -- but hunting is not a task for a lazy bird.

The flora here is part Southern California coastal, part Benedictine religious -- infinitely varied scrub, dotted with a nopale cactus here and and a few palms there, pines, eucalyptus and olive, flowers of purples and yellows and orange, one lone red tree leaf -- the embodiment of our lesson in perseverance -- a red-barked tree, and so many shades and variations of green and light that the eye boggles and tries to blend.

My smooth-stone bench is cool, the breeze lifts my hair, and the moon shows faintly, promising to shine tonight even after the coastal fog rolls in.

Whaddya' think?

No, it's not real. It came on a wine ad in a magazine. I wouldn't really get a dragon. This is just practice. It's only the second time I've worn a temporary, but I'm seriously considering getting a real one, possibly for my birthday.

This is the location I'm contemplating, for two reasons: Amy Ray of the Indigo Girls has one there and I've always thought it looked great, tough, cool (honest! she rocks!); and if I'm gonna go through pain, I want to be able to see the fruits of it anytime I wish.

I'm hyperconscious about it looking good; I am considering my age, weight, etc., in relation to the potential location.

POM smirked at me today and said I look like a truckdriver. Thoughts?

Ashes

I saw him on campus this morning, before classes started. A brave young man -- he looked like just a freshman -- wore his ashes to school. My own church's service was not until this evening, so I didn't have to test my own boldness; not today.

Sunday Shots

I vow I will attempt to reign myself in during the month of February and not post so many photos each day. It seems like cheating, somehow.

But not today. :-)

Who couldn't love this face? (That bulge in his cheek? His ball, of course. Wouldn't be caught dead without it.)

On Friday, we had a student-free day -- no, not for end-of-semester grading -- for all-day meetings. (Grr!) One major topic: disaster preparedness. Now this is my idea of disaster preparedness!

"I See Myself in Grandma." This is a self-portrait -- a sort-of double-headed self-portrait, actually -- in a vase I inherited from my great-grandmother. The photo title really should be flipped; I do hope to see some of her more tenacious and bold and disciplined qualities in myself. Lord, may it be so.

It must be finals week.

Student, napping, in class.

OK, it was after school. This is a great kid. Involved in everything. Student government, athletics, you name it. Excels in academics. And he's just truly nice and polite and intellectually inquisitive and well-rounded and broad-minded and a gentleman. A gem. He was wiped out. How cute is that?

Sunset tonight. The sky was expansive, blue, lightly cloud-strewn today. The mountains were broad, awash in snow and whiteness, and utterly clear. Yesterday's steady breeze cleansed the air of smog, and it was one of those days that reminds you why the settlers moved here in the first place.


Moi. Psychotic indeed. It's what grading stacks of high school sophomore essays will do to you. Ha!

Balance...

...cannot be found here. Nosirree! Not us, man! Never mind that we, as teachers, should be role models of balance to our students. No! If our kids are gonna learn from us, it ain't gonna be from our examples!


[sighs heavily]

Consolation: the semester will be over this week, grades due middle of next week, and I get to claim that provierbial clean slate -- for least a few minutes, anyway.

Insanity is defined as doing the same thing and expecting different results. I have identified the things I need to do differently -- the many, many things. But I think I'll focus on jumping on grading each assignment I collect within 1 day of collecting it (must "eat that frog!") -- at least start grading it within that time span. I also want to work on breaking up my day into time blocks to accommodate my teacher-onset ADD, blocks of 15 or 30 minutes, during which I can exercise, grade, cook dinner, grade, read for fun, grade, plan, grade; at least the grading will be broken up into psychically manageable chunks. ('Smarter, not harder, Self,' says I.)

Self-portrait in car window, courtesy of boredom while getting ride home from teacher friend after euphemistic grading 'party' -- gas station stop required. Note friend, who prefers the blog moniker Madame X, in window reflection, laughing at my photographic shenanigans.