I was going to finish painting the stairs last evening, but instead we took the dogs and went to Papscanee Island Preserve. Our original destination was a new state park in Castleton, Schodack Island State Park. For years the park was in the planning stages, and it seemed it would never open. It was to be called Castleton Island State Park, but the folks in the rest of our town, a patchwork of rural mixed with track house developments and early sprawl, just couldn't stomach it being named after our musty old village, and naturally, they won.
Anyhow, it finally opened last year. When we got there, we discovered it closes to traffic at 6:30. Last time Bob tried to go, it closed at 5 p.m. The first time, he parked the truck along the road, and took a walk into the park. He walked for a while up the access road, and then turned around and came back. This time, a young woman, surprisingly made and dressed up for a job as park attendant, who was on her way out when we arrived, told us the park was closed. We just wanted to walk the dogs, so we parked near the entrance, and proceeded to do what he had when he went before. We hadn't gone very far, when she started blowing the horn to her car wildly, and yelling that we had to leave. She sourly reiterated that the park was closed. So we left.
Disappointed and wanting to take advantage of the first hint of spring, we decided to check out Papscanee instead. It is part of the Hudson River Greenway. The sign has been there for years, and we had never checked it out. What a wonderful place! I feel almost in that park attendant's debt for throwing us out of the paved and sanitized park. The trails lead up to the Hudson River, which we are mostly cut off from on the eastern bank, despite the village being right on the river. The reason are the train tracks that hug the shore, and the frequent Amtrak trains that zip by in an effort to arrive in NYC in under 2 1/2 hours. You'll never hear me complain about Amtrak like so many others here and elsewhere, I approve of most forms of mass transit and I especially love trains, but it is a drag that the river is not more accessible. Near Papscanee, the tracks are a bit inland, and there is a long dirt road that eventually crosses them, and nearby a small parking lot.
Here it got the Capital Region's Best of 2001 for place to swim the Hudson. Now, you won't catch me in my bathing suit down there any time soon - and not because of the patchy snow on the ground. The river retains its beauty - nothing can take that away - but regarding pollution, well, yes it has improved a lot since I was a kid, but not enough for my baquicil-swimming-pool-only body, thank you. I mean, I have to hold my nose even at the new YMCA, OK?
Afterwards, we took the dogs to Chubby's, a seasonal place that serves burgers, fries, soft ice cream, etc. I was glad we did all this rather than being "productive," especially since today it is raining. Tonight, it's off to S'ville, and the other kitchen project.
The University has an updated logo. I like it!
Friday, April 11, 2003
Thursday, April 10, 2003
Caught up on work-work, and so I'm indulging myself a bit. It's fun to take a peek at what search terms people use to arrive at this site. Variants of "gully" are common, as are "boycott Target;" another that comes up frequently is "Marilyn Monroe" (I've only mentioned her once, now twice), then, of course there's "Trafficmaster vinyl tiles," and my favorite, "gym teacher" paired with "squat thrusts" or "humiliation."
A sampling of others: "wringer washer women" (:-)) "recipe for raspberry viniagrette" (I guess I write about meetings more than I realize, next should be "pasty chicken ala Marriot"), "groundhog cartoon images" (another :-)), "larks and owls" (what else?), "Gina Giuliano age" (really MYOB, and kind of scary too, but it's no secret, 41 until September), "research on the image of vocational education" (interesting, though not really my area of expertise), "I want to do my own taping and spackling" (believe me, so do I, but you've come to the wrong place for advice), "Rudy Giuliano" (yes, this is the right place, but somehow I think data on the most wonderful tri-color hound/collie is not what they were seeking), "Georgette Heyer works online" (great idea), "movie star images protesting Iraqi War" (I promise I have never written a word on that subject, but I will now, and just one: yuck), "table enamel topped" (I believe I have the nicest one ever made, gracing my newly remodeled and almost finished '40s kitchen), and the favorite from this group, "example description paper on being a slob" (I really really hope the intent was not plagiarism).
A sampling of others: "wringer washer women" (:-)) "recipe for raspberry viniagrette" (I guess I write about meetings more than I realize, next should be "pasty chicken ala Marriot"), "groundhog cartoon images" (another :-)), "larks and owls" (what else?), "Gina Giuliano age" (really MYOB, and kind of scary too, but it's no secret, 41 until September), "research on the image of vocational education" (interesting, though not really my area of expertise), "I want to do my own taping and spackling" (believe me, so do I, but you've come to the wrong place for advice), "Rudy Giuliano" (yes, this is the right place, but somehow I think data on the most wonderful tri-color hound/collie is not what they were seeking), "Georgette Heyer works online" (great idea), "movie star images protesting Iraqi War" (I promise I have never written a word on that subject, but I will now, and just one: yuck), "table enamel topped" (I believe I have the nicest one ever made, gracing my newly remodeled and almost finished '40s kitchen), and the favorite from this group, "example description paper on being a slob" (I really really hope the intent was not plagiarism).
At the two meetings I attended recently where online learning was discussed, one common thread involved how long it takes to teach using the electronic delivery method. Those of us who are proponents of online classes rarely dispute that the time commitment is greater than in traditional classroom teaching. Developing a new course is particularly time consuming, and it does become easier with experience, but even routine course management takes a long time.
On the other hand, I have learned that teaching, in general, takes a big commitment, if you want to do a good job. Sure, there are tricks to streamline things, but there's no getting around that you need to invest a lot of energy to achieve a good result. One method that helps a little with the burden, in both the online and in-person appraoches, is group work. Plus, everyone agrees that having students learn to work in groups is beneficial for learning, and for adapting to what will be expected in the land of jobs. Everyone, that is, besides a significant number of students. Some students like group work, but some hate it.
I was among those who hated group work when I was a student. But I respect research, and research is persuasive on this point. So this year I decided to add it to my classes, using the suggestions in the research to address student (and my) concerns. If find it is a challenge to design a worthy assignment, both for the on campus and online sections. I had to adjust both after last semester; although on campus the vast majority of students felt the group experience was favorable, I was not all that satisfied with the results. Online, I felt the outcomes were excellent, but most of the students intensely disliked the group project. The students in the classroom now have all semester to prepare for an end-of-semester presentation day, rather than having a short time to whip something up, with each group presenting once during the semester. And in the online class, I have taken a more visible role in terms of facilitating. The instructor is privy to much more of the process in the online world, and the students know that. So being hands-off is not really possible.
I'm pleased to report that so far, both classes seem to be performing much better in the group work. This is a generalization, of course; recently there was a minor melt-down in one of the online groups. In the end they pulled it off, but it did take my intervention. This (my involvement, not the melt-down) is not likely to have happened in the classroom, because the instructor does not have as much access to the process, and students have gotten the message from years of group assignments that working out difficulties is the group's problem, too bad, go away. So on presentation day they suck it up and will muddle through somehow.
On the other hand, I have learned that teaching, in general, takes a big commitment, if you want to do a good job. Sure, there are tricks to streamline things, but there's no getting around that you need to invest a lot of energy to achieve a good result. One method that helps a little with the burden, in both the online and in-person appraoches, is group work. Plus, everyone agrees that having students learn to work in groups is beneficial for learning, and for adapting to what will be expected in the land of jobs. Everyone, that is, besides a significant number of students. Some students like group work, but some hate it.
I was among those who hated group work when I was a student. But I respect research, and research is persuasive on this point. So this year I decided to add it to my classes, using the suggestions in the research to address student (and my) concerns. If find it is a challenge to design a worthy assignment, both for the on campus and online sections. I had to adjust both after last semester; although on campus the vast majority of students felt the group experience was favorable, I was not all that satisfied with the results. Online, I felt the outcomes were excellent, but most of the students intensely disliked the group project. The students in the classroom now have all semester to prepare for an end-of-semester presentation day, rather than having a short time to whip something up, with each group presenting once during the semester. And in the online class, I have taken a more visible role in terms of facilitating. The instructor is privy to much more of the process in the online world, and the students know that. So being hands-off is not really possible.
I'm pleased to report that so far, both classes seem to be performing much better in the group work. This is a generalization, of course; recently there was a minor melt-down in one of the online groups. In the end they pulled it off, but it did take my intervention. This (my involvement, not the melt-down) is not likely to have happened in the classroom, because the instructor does not have as much access to the process, and students have gotten the message from years of group assignments that working out difficulties is the group's problem, too bad, go away. So on presentation day they suck it up and will muddle through somehow.
Wednesday, April 09, 2003
Earlier this week I went to a meeting that had to do with technology. Actually, when I accepted the invitation, I thought it was going to be the second in a loosely-related series of workshops on online learning. As it turned out, the meeting was longer than I anticipated, and the general technological status of the school was the focus of the first half of the meeting. The second half was about online teaching and learning. Lunch was included.
It's been a while since I was at a longish meeting that included the perk of a working lunch, a commonplace occurrence when I was an academic administrator, but very rare now that I wear the hat of adjunct college instructor-slash-shut-in. It's funny how quickly I had forgotten what such meetings are like, with an agenda set by the head, and the goal of sharing. Now I brainstorm alone, and share it with no-one, or sometimes in finished products with my students, or perhaps occasionally in my public or private journal, or maybe with Bob, when we are having dinner. Plus my role at this meeting was different from when I was an administrator. Finally, because it was not routine, it was enjoyable. This summer, when my class is not running, I have a lot of food for thought (and yes, the free lunch was delicious).
The NCES has put out a report on the subject of technology standards. Could be worth a look.
It's been a while since I was at a longish meeting that included the perk of a working lunch, a commonplace occurrence when I was an academic administrator, but very rare now that I wear the hat of adjunct college instructor-slash-shut-in. It's funny how quickly I had forgotten what such meetings are like, with an agenda set by the head, and the goal of sharing. Now I brainstorm alone, and share it with no-one, or sometimes in finished products with my students, or perhaps occasionally in my public or private journal, or maybe with Bob, when we are having dinner. Plus my role at this meeting was different from when I was an administrator. Finally, because it was not routine, it was enjoyable. This summer, when my class is not running, I have a lot of food for thought (and yes, the free lunch was delicious).
The NCES has put out a report on the subject of technology standards. Could be worth a look.
I'm feeling sad today.
I found out a friend from high school days died yesterday. We hadn't kept in touch that much; in fact, I had seen her only a few times since high school, most recently at the yard sale we had last Memorial Day weekend at the old house in S'ville. She bought a comforter from me. She asked what I wanted for it, and I said 50 cents. She forced me to take a dollar instead.
I think her life circumstances were not great but I am not going to speculate on that here. Instead, I am going to remember that she had musical talent. She came to a party we had years ago, in Oneonta. I remember her sitting on the front steps, playing her guitar for a few other friends.
In high school she was "a character." She was always doing or saying something funny. Her life circumstances weren't easy then either, but you rarely saw her with anything but a smile. Like me, she wasn't a part of the whole clique scene. She would never have been accepted into it, but it didn't matter because she was an individual. She had one really close friend, which I think is typical for teenagers. It wasn't me, we weren't in the same grade in school. But I always liked her, and we hung around together sometimes at school, but especially on the bus ride to school and at the town park down the road from where I lived. She helped to brighten what often was either a dull or unpleasant high school experience.
I know this is superficial, but it's true and she wasn't a bit conceited. She was always pretty, and she got prettier and prettier as she aged, in spite of life circumstances. I'm talking model pretty.
I take comfort in knowing that God has something better waiting for her.
I found out a friend from high school days died yesterday. We hadn't kept in touch that much; in fact, I had seen her only a few times since high school, most recently at the yard sale we had last Memorial Day weekend at the old house in S'ville. She bought a comforter from me. She asked what I wanted for it, and I said 50 cents. She forced me to take a dollar instead.
I think her life circumstances were not great but I am not going to speculate on that here. Instead, I am going to remember that she had musical talent. She came to a party we had years ago, in Oneonta. I remember her sitting on the front steps, playing her guitar for a few other friends.
In high school she was "a character." She was always doing or saying something funny. Her life circumstances weren't easy then either, but you rarely saw her with anything but a smile. Like me, she wasn't a part of the whole clique scene. She would never have been accepted into it, but it didn't matter because she was an individual. She had one really close friend, which I think is typical for teenagers. It wasn't me, we weren't in the same grade in school. But I always liked her, and we hung around together sometimes at school, but especially on the bus ride to school and at the town park down the road from where I lived. She helped to brighten what often was either a dull or unpleasant high school experience.
I know this is superficial, but it's true and she wasn't a bit conceited. She was always pretty, and she got prettier and prettier as she aged, in spite of life circumstances. I'm talking model pretty.
I take comfort in knowing that God has something better waiting for her.
Tuesday, April 08, 2003
It snowed. Again.
Tuesday Too
1.) When was the last time someone surprised you? What did they do?
Two things come to mind, one was Christmas 2002, one was Valentines Day 2002. Both involve gifts purchased on ebay related to Mark Twain. At Christmas, my mother gave me an old Harper's Weekly, it was the issue commemorating Mark Twain's 70th birthday. Valentines Day, Bob gave me a first edition set of Mark Twain's autobiography. Both gifts were unexpected, I would never have guessed what was inside the package!
2.) Alright then, it's similar to a googlewhack, but different. You must come up with two words, spelled correctly and within quotes that google will produce only 1 result for, and that result must be your site. Unless you're already a rather unusual wordsmith it might take you a couple of days for goolge to find a combination you invent and find no result for currently.
Well, I don't know if proper nouns count, but "Myrtle McSpirit" works for me.
3.) Give a link to the funniest site you've come across lately; it may or may not be a weblog.
The funniest thing I've come across lately was a Dilbert cartoon in Sunday's paper, but here in electronic land, how about A Minute Longer - A Soldier's Tale; this guy writes well, managing to be irreverent and funny about something deadly serious.
Tuesday Too
1.) When was the last time someone surprised you? What did they do?
Two things come to mind, one was Christmas 2002, one was Valentines Day 2002. Both involve gifts purchased on ebay related to Mark Twain. At Christmas, my mother gave me an old Harper's Weekly, it was the issue commemorating Mark Twain's 70th birthday. Valentines Day, Bob gave me a first edition set of Mark Twain's autobiography. Both gifts were unexpected, I would never have guessed what was inside the package!
2.) Alright then, it's similar to a googlewhack, but different. You must come up with two words, spelled correctly and within quotes that google will produce only 1 result for, and that result must be your site. Unless you're already a rather unusual wordsmith it might take you a couple of days for goolge to find a combination you invent and find no result for currently.
Well, I don't know if proper nouns count, but "Myrtle McSpirit" works for me.
3.) Give a link to the funniest site you've come across lately; it may or may not be a weblog.
The funniest thing I've come across lately was a Dilbert cartoon in Sunday's paper, but here in electronic land, how about A Minute Longer - A Soldier's Tale; this guy writes well, managing to be irreverent and funny about something deadly serious.
Monday, April 07, 2003
Searchable databases, virtual exhibits, you name it, there is so much good stuff here at NARA, I would need to take a week long vacation to explore it all!
Still Sunday night to me! Another long day spent working on the Castleton kitchen, and there is still more to go! I painted the stairs white and grey. Bob continued wallpapering. I am tired. I don't mean sleepy exactly, or mentally drained, which are my usual forms of exhaustion. Instead this is a physical soreness. That can be a "good" kind of tired, because it is a novelty. So much time - too much time - is spent sitting at a desk, under an artificial light, staring at a CRT. I'll sleep well tonight.
That's in spite of daylight savings time, of course. It always takes me a while to adjust to the unnatural time. It's just wrong, wrong, wrong. Oh, I do like it being light out later at night in the warm weather, but I hate "springing ahead," and losing a good weekend hour - 2 a.m. to 3 a.m. no less! My body doesn't like waiting until October to get it back. One of these years I plan to start my own crusade, and I'll be like that state (which is it? Some place in the midwest I think) and stay on real time, just to be contrary. So there.
That's in spite of daylight savings time, of course. It always takes me a while to adjust to the unnatural time. It's just wrong, wrong, wrong. Oh, I do like it being light out later at night in the warm weather, but I hate "springing ahead," and losing a good weekend hour - 2 a.m. to 3 a.m. no less! My body doesn't like waiting until October to get it back. One of these years I plan to start my own crusade, and I'll be like that state (which is it? Some place in the midwest I think) and stay on real time, just to be contrary. So there.
Saturday, April 05, 2003
Outside the living room window, there is a pussy willow tree that was just beginning to bud. It is now encased in a coating of ice, as is everything else. It looks like it might be January out there, except that in January '03 there were two feet of snow. As always, Rudy is delighted, rolling and flipping and sliding. The Hotdog, on the other hand, ventured just outside the door - there is an awning over a concrete slab by the kitchen, and then quickly returned to the couch.
My Road Runner cable connection is down, and I am using the phone line right now instead. Maybe it is from the ice storm, so I should be more patient. But it irritates me that regardless of service interruptions, I still receive the same bill every month.
Ten years can seem like a long time ago, or a moment. On this day in 1993 Mimmie died. When I think of the things that have happened in the past decade - Bob getting his master's degree, five job changes for him, me getting my doctorate, three job changes for me, the house in Samsonville, the growing up of nieces and nephews, getting Edna, Rudy and Sophie, getting published for the first, second, third time, it seems like a lifetime. But when I think of Mimmie, of the other people who have passed on, and the animals who have gone over the trail, it seems like yesterday. "Next spring, if I'm alive," she would say every year, when she talked about gardening plans. So I guess her leaving in the spring was somehow appropriate.
My Road Runner cable connection is down, and I am using the phone line right now instead. Maybe it is from the ice storm, so I should be more patient. But it irritates me that regardless of service interruptions, I still receive the same bill every month.
Ten years can seem like a long time ago, or a moment. On this day in 1993 Mimmie died. When I think of the things that have happened in the past decade - Bob getting his master's degree, five job changes for him, me getting my doctorate, three job changes for me, the house in Samsonville, the growing up of nieces and nephews, getting Edna, Rudy and Sophie, getting published for the first, second, third time, it seems like a lifetime. But when I think of Mimmie, of the other people who have passed on, and the animals who have gone over the trail, it seems like yesterday. "Next spring, if I'm alive," she would say every year, when she talked about gardening plans. So I guess her leaving in the spring was somehow appropriate.
Friday, April 04, 2003
Fashionable Facemasks for SARS, from Reuters. This made me smile. It's the making lemons out of lemonade approach. What an upbeat culture. (Thanks to Bob for the email.)
Nearly 10 years later (03/05/2013), I received an email from a visitor informing me that the link above was broken, and offering this one instead.
Nearly 10 years later (03/05/2013), I received an email from a visitor informing me that the link above was broken, and offering this one instead.
Thursday, April 03, 2003
Bob and I are both trying the "Cabbage Soup" diet this week. It's a strange diet, brutal at times, but because of the daily variety it is do-able. We have been on it since Monday, and although we didn't plan to weigh ourselves again until it was over, neither could resist. He has lost 10 pounds so far. I have lost three. Seems to me these fad diets always work better for men, but I'm still happy about the results. I only want to lose 10-15 pounds total and I know a fad diet isn't the long-term answer, but I wanted to do something since I wasn't motivated. Cutting down on the after dinner desserts and using the treadmill are the solution, maybe this will get me going. Today is banana and milk day - weird!
I am beginning to see daylight on my work, I spent the whole day grading...and trying not to think too much about food. I'm telling myself, it's only a week long, 3 1/2 days down and only 3 1/2 days to go!
I am beginning to see daylight on my work, I spent the whole day grading...and trying not to think too much about food. I'm telling myself, it's only a week long, 3 1/2 days down and only 3 1/2 days to go!
Tuesday, April 01, 2003
Tuesday Too, a day late and a dollar short
1.) Describe your most recent sexual encounter. APRIL FOOL! However, if you really want to do that, go ahead.
Registration for summer session and fall started yesterday (no foolin') and I am busy busy busy, which will serve as my reason for not answering.
2.) Does your state/county have some form of legalized gambling other than the lottery? What do you think about on online gambling? Is gambling really connected to organized crime?
Yes - we have "Turning Stone," a Native American-owned casino. We have horse racing at Saratoga and Belmont, and we have OTB. We also have "video crack," which is connected to the lottery. I can't remember the name of it but there are constant drawings that you can play in bars and restaurants and the games are shown on a television monitor. I don't know if gambling is connected to organized crime but I am not a fan of it regardless. I don't want casinos to expand and I absolutely detest all forms of gambling that are connected to animal exploitation, like dog tracks and horse racing. I confess to buying an occasional scratch-off lottery ticket.
3.) What is your greatest ambition?
Hmmm...off the top of my head I'd say having my Mimmie book published - and after that, continuing to write and get published.
1.) Describe your most recent sexual encounter. APRIL FOOL! However, if you really want to do that, go ahead.
Registration for summer session and fall started yesterday (no foolin') and I am busy busy busy, which will serve as my reason for not answering.
2.) Does your state/county have some form of legalized gambling other than the lottery? What do you think about on online gambling? Is gambling really connected to organized crime?
Yes - we have "Turning Stone," a Native American-owned casino. We have horse racing at Saratoga and Belmont, and we have OTB. We also have "video crack," which is connected to the lottery. I can't remember the name of it but there are constant drawings that you can play in bars and restaurants and the games are shown on a television monitor. I don't know if gambling is connected to organized crime but I am not a fan of it regardless. I don't want casinos to expand and I absolutely detest all forms of gambling that are connected to animal exploitation, like dog tracks and horse racing. I confess to buying an occasional scratch-off lottery ticket.
3.) What is your greatest ambition?
Hmmm...off the top of my head I'd say having my Mimmie book published - and after that, continuing to write and get published.
Monday, March 31, 2003
I skipped posting this weekend. We spent the weekend in Samsonville, and I didn't use the computer that much. On Saturday, I did my museum volunteering, and for a change we had quite a few visitors, including several fifth to eighth grade girl scouts who were camping in the library. I tried to read student papers while keeping an eye on the collection. That night, we visited my brother and used his outdoor hot tub (something I never thought I'd like until I tried it). On Sunday, we planned out a deck project for the back door with my father, and then we celebrated my sister's April 1 and brother's April 2 birthdays at my parents' house. As usual, Ma cooked up a storm! In between all this I did manage to fit in getting down some of the floor tiles in the kitchen. The pattern is Morocco Slate. It snowed a bit yesterday, and there is a real nip in the air today. March is definitely not going out like a lamb!
Friday, March 28, 2003
I am sore from yesterday's yard work! Something definitely happens around age 40, a wake up call from your body, and the message is: no, you are not exempt from getting older.
Yesterday, in the Albany Times Union, there was a story about the increasing use of profanity by, well, everyone. I wrote on this subject here, and since I am working on student evaluation so that I can focus on tiling the Samsonville kitchen this weekend, this will serve as today's entry.
Yesterday, in the Albany Times Union, there was a story about the increasing use of profanity by, well, everyone. I wrote on this subject here, and since I am working on student evaluation so that I can focus on tiling the Samsonville kitchen this weekend, this will serve as today's entry.
Thursday, March 27, 2003
I got psyched and made the yard less disgusting. It took three hours. This is the earliest I have ever done poop patrol, so you know I must have been really eager for spring, to take this pitiful excuse to be outside. The three guilty parties (actually only two are guilty, since Edna has a litter box) wanted to go inside after a little while, refusing to keep me company during the brutal task. Eventually Rudy came back outside, but Sophie stayed in. It was more icky than I remembered, and that's saying something. I am so relieved it is done! Earlier in the winter, I assumed we would have snow on the ground longer, but it is starting to look like it will be gone by April. So maybe the bulbs will come up after all.
I believe spring is really here! Much of the snow has melted and it's fairly warm (too bad the yard is disgusting). I have to order seeds!
Here's an interesting piece (and it is another freebie) from the Chronicle of Higher Education about teaching philosophy. Much of it is common sense, but there were some good tips. I think I am going to make a list of classes I loved and try to remember one activity each that might be adapted to my own teaching. This may have to wait until summer, but it is worth some thought. Also on the summer list, I picked up some useful ideas at the asynchronous learning workshop that I want to incorporate in my online class. It was very well-attended and I think it could have easily lasted all day instead of for just one hour. It's exciting to hear what others are doing, and also to field questions from those interested in giving it a try. There will be another session on April 8 (and that one has the extra perk of including a free lunch).
Here's an interesting piece (and it is another freebie) from the Chronicle of Higher Education about teaching philosophy. Much of it is common sense, but there were some good tips. I think I am going to make a list of classes I loved and try to remember one activity each that might be adapted to my own teaching. This may have to wait until summer, but it is worth some thought. Also on the summer list, I picked up some useful ideas at the asynchronous learning workshop that I want to incorporate in my online class. It was very well-attended and I think it could have easily lasted all day instead of for just one hour. It's exciting to hear what others are doing, and also to field questions from those interested in giving it a try. There will be another session on April 8 (and that one has the extra perk of including a free lunch).
Wednesday, March 26, 2003
Recent posts over at jf's and sya's sites have intrigued me enough to try out this free trial. I still prefer text, but it was interesting and fun to do, although it sort of reminds me of recording an answering machine message...rushing against the beep and never getting it quite perfect!
This is Strawberry Pickin' by Gina Giuliano.
audblog audio post
This is Strawberry Pickin' by Gina Giuliano.
audblog audio post
Tuesday, March 25, 2003
Tuesday Too
1.) Is the justice system in the US really fair? Why, or why not?
I think overall it is fair, certainly more fair than in a lot of places, but I also believe fairness is relative, and the system can be manipulated at all levels. People with resources - money for the sharpest and sleaziest lawyers, and access to media - tend to get a better deal. And, what is fair is perceived differently by winners v. losers, victims v. perpetrators, those who agree with a decision v. those who do not.
2.) In a crisis are you a leader, or a follower? Why do you take that role?
I'm a leader. Always have been. It just happens automatically. When I consider hypothetical situations, I think I will panic, but the few times I have been tested, for some reason my head stays clear.
3.) Is there some reason for your madness?
Who needs a reason?
Computer scare last night - here I am, tired from the weekend, planning to get some early rest for a change, and suddenly - when dialed in, AOL kicks me off and makes me call in to fix the problem. Turns out it was a Terms of Service violation. In a space of a couple of minutes, eight emails were sent to 120 people using Bob's screen name! "What time was that?" I demanded. "10:24 p.m." said AOL-phone support man. "But that can't be!" I protested, "I was online and he was asleep in the recliner." So, they fixed the problem with the account, gave me a lecture about being safe online, and sent a whole batch of emails instructing about what may have caused the problem.
I downloaded the suggested virus checker on both machines, and it caused the old machine to hang at the Windows 98 screen. The clock was ticking on getting early rest - early for me being any time before 11:15 p.m.-ish, but I managed to locate the various manuals and CDs that came with the machine (this is a miracle) and get old faithful going again. During this time I had awakened Bob, and before he grumbled off to bed, I told him that his days of opening Spam were over. I can't say he clicks on the links or downloads suspect files, but he generally does open it, all 700 items he receives per week. We checked his account, and saw the eight violation messages in his sent mailbox. Half were mortgage schemes, half were about increasing size... "Now people will think I am sending Spam!" he said, which convinced him better than I ever could to mend his ways and hit "report and delete" rather than "read."
While working on the problem, I got the cable Internet going, too. Maybe I'll get that extra sleep tonight instead?
1.) Is the justice system in the US really fair? Why, or why not?
I think overall it is fair, certainly more fair than in a lot of places, but I also believe fairness is relative, and the system can be manipulated at all levels. People with resources - money for the sharpest and sleaziest lawyers, and access to media - tend to get a better deal. And, what is fair is perceived differently by winners v. losers, victims v. perpetrators, those who agree with a decision v. those who do not.
2.) In a crisis are you a leader, or a follower? Why do you take that role?
I'm a leader. Always have been. It just happens automatically. When I consider hypothetical situations, I think I will panic, but the few times I have been tested, for some reason my head stays clear.
3.) Is there some reason for your madness?
Who needs a reason?
Computer scare last night - here I am, tired from the weekend, planning to get some early rest for a change, and suddenly - when dialed in, AOL kicks me off and makes me call in to fix the problem. Turns out it was a Terms of Service violation. In a space of a couple of minutes, eight emails were sent to 120 people using Bob's screen name! "What time was that?" I demanded. "10:24 p.m." said AOL-phone support man. "But that can't be!" I protested, "I was online and he was asleep in the recliner." So, they fixed the problem with the account, gave me a lecture about being safe online, and sent a whole batch of emails instructing about what may have caused the problem.
I downloaded the suggested virus checker on both machines, and it caused the old machine to hang at the Windows 98 screen. The clock was ticking on getting early rest - early for me being any time before 11:15 p.m.-ish, but I managed to locate the various manuals and CDs that came with the machine (this is a miracle) and get old faithful going again. During this time I had awakened Bob, and before he grumbled off to bed, I told him that his days of opening Spam were over. I can't say he clicks on the links or downloads suspect files, but he generally does open it, all 700 items he receives per week. We checked his account, and saw the eight violation messages in his sent mailbox. Half were mortgage schemes, half were about increasing size... "Now people will think I am sending Spam!" he said, which convinced him better than I ever could to mend his ways and hit "report and delete" rather than "read."
While working on the problem, I got the cable Internet going, too. Maybe I'll get that extra sleep tonight instead?
Monday, March 24, 2003
My cable Internet connection is down and I haven't been able to fix it, so I've decided to try waiting it out by using the old machine to dial in. Since upgrading to AOL 8 (install problems from months ago have been fixed) the dial up connection seems faster. But that might be just a fluke since I haven't dialed in from here in a long time and I don't do it enough any more to be certain. Regardless, roadrunner is too expensive to be down!
Missed another entry, but that's OK. I am very, very sore and tired. We worked on the kitchen all weekend. (Still too much ice for poop patrol.) It didn't seem like there was a lot left undone in the kitchen but even after doing some on Saturday and a lot on Sunday, I estimate that there is another weekend of work to do. Bob stripped wallpaper from the stairwell. I finished tiling the pantry, and the doorway area from the kitchen to the utility room, which includes a wooden platform that goes to the kitchen crawl space (jjk: this is probably the source of the spiders. I had to electrolux a few). It is such a hassle to get the supplies out and then put them all away every time work is done, but I can't tolerate living around the mess all week. I stayed up really late again to finish up as much as I could. Now the only area left to tile is an under the stairs closet, which will be a big project.
Tomorrow I am participating in a presentation/workshop on online learning. I am doing my best to be prepared, which is a challenge considering the labors of the weekend left me less than alert. I've abandoned any thoughts of a "Powerpoint" and instead will have to rely on my charm. I find that since I have been teaching, I get a lot less worked up about presentations. I'm not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing!
A few things I have come across as I get ready: the Chronicle of Higher Education is full of interesting tidbits; here is an article (and it's free !) about the Technology Education and Copyright Harmonization Act (or Teach Act). I am a supporter of copyright law, and unlike many who write online, I don't believe in opposing something that protects freelance writers because it also benefits Disney. This Act sounds very common sense to me, and these are basically the guidelines I follow in my online course.
Print is really more my concern. I don't use clips, but not because of the copyright issue. I'm not big on television in the first place, but I do have an excellent video I show in class, it is the PBS three hour special Only A Teacher. Fortunately, PBS has an great website devoted to the special, and so rather than seeing the film, the online variant gets a link to the site.
Then, the New York Times has a story, New Online Guides Rate Professors. This is something the Chronicle covers from time to time, and I wrote about it here.
The play on Saturday was wonderful! See, the weekend wasn't 100% work. We had a casual dinner before the show. This was the second performance we've seen since I became a subscriber to Cap Rep. Neither had intermission; Driving Miss Daisy was 90 minutes long.
We both enjoyed the play a lot, and this only diminished the experience a little, but sitting that long in a cramped seat was hard on Bob, as rheumatoid arthritis means he needs to stretch or he gets stiff. He said he looked at his watch when he noticed the discomfort and it was 65 minutes into the show. My less troublesome problem is that I generally have to use the bathroom. If we could have taken a break after 45 minutes, both of us would have been more comfortable.
In the past, I have been to performances there where they did have intermission, so I am hoping this is not a new policy or something, and the next show we see (The Blue Room in May) will have a break between acts. If not, I will give them some subscriber feedback and maybe they will take it into consideration for the next season. I can't see why the choice should be to disturb those around us and miss some of the play, or sit there and suffer.
Missed another entry, but that's OK. I am very, very sore and tired. We worked on the kitchen all weekend. (Still too much ice for poop patrol.) It didn't seem like there was a lot left undone in the kitchen but even after doing some on Saturday and a lot on Sunday, I estimate that there is another weekend of work to do. Bob stripped wallpaper from the stairwell. I finished tiling the pantry, and the doorway area from the kitchen to the utility room, which includes a wooden platform that goes to the kitchen crawl space (jjk: this is probably the source of the spiders. I had to electrolux a few). It is such a hassle to get the supplies out and then put them all away every time work is done, but I can't tolerate living around the mess all week. I stayed up really late again to finish up as much as I could. Now the only area left to tile is an under the stairs closet, which will be a big project.
Tomorrow I am participating in a presentation/workshop on online learning. I am doing my best to be prepared, which is a challenge considering the labors of the weekend left me less than alert. I've abandoned any thoughts of a "Powerpoint" and instead will have to rely on my charm. I find that since I have been teaching, I get a lot less worked up about presentations. I'm not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing!
A few things I have come across as I get ready: the Chronicle of Higher Education is full of interesting tidbits; here is an article (and it's free !) about the Technology Education and Copyright Harmonization Act (or Teach Act). I am a supporter of copyright law, and unlike many who write online, I don't believe in opposing something that protects freelance writers because it also benefits Disney. This Act sounds very common sense to me, and these are basically the guidelines I follow in my online course.
Print is really more my concern. I don't use clips, but not because of the copyright issue. I'm not big on television in the first place, but I do have an excellent video I show in class, it is the PBS three hour special Only A Teacher. Fortunately, PBS has an great website devoted to the special, and so rather than seeing the film, the online variant gets a link to the site.
Then, the New York Times has a story, New Online Guides Rate Professors. This is something the Chronicle covers from time to time, and I wrote about it here.
The play on Saturday was wonderful! See, the weekend wasn't 100% work. We had a casual dinner before the show. This was the second performance we've seen since I became a subscriber to Cap Rep. Neither had intermission; Driving Miss Daisy was 90 minutes long.
We both enjoyed the play a lot, and this only diminished the experience a little, but sitting that long in a cramped seat was hard on Bob, as rheumatoid arthritis means he needs to stretch or he gets stiff. He said he looked at his watch when he noticed the discomfort and it was 65 minutes into the show. My less troublesome problem is that I generally have to use the bathroom. If we could have taken a break after 45 minutes, both of us would have been more comfortable.
In the past, I have been to performances there where they did have intermission, so I am hoping this is not a new policy or something, and the next show we see (The Blue Room in May) will have a break between acts. If not, I will give them some subscriber feedback and maybe they will take it into consideration for the next season. I can't see why the choice should be to disturb those around us and miss some of the play, or sit there and suffer.
Saturday, March 22, 2003
This morning, I got the idea that today would be good to start the annual Spring "poop patrol." What this means is even more disgusting than it sounds, and you know we must really love dogs to tolerate having to do it. But there would be no gardening and no barbecues otherwise. After a winter with two large hound dogs and a small yard, it is so gross, we have to scrape off almost the entire top layer of dirt. It's an awful task.
Anyway, there is still quite a lot of snow in most places, but the day was warm, and I thought, what if I get a shovel, and jump the gun a bit - I'll scoop up frozen turds and the surrounding snow, and it will be so much easier to do than waiting for a total melt and having to hunt around in the grass.
Guess again. In some places the snow is frozen into solid ice, meaning it must be chopped at with the shovel. In others it is soft enough so that I broke through when walking - but not immediately - so walking around is a hazard. Oh, I'll try again tomorrow, I guess.
Inside, we worked on finishing up the details in the kitchen, and unfortunately, all the tasks that are left are very hard jobs. I was scraping off some duct tape from many moons ago, that was intended to keep out drafts et al around a plywood platform that goes to the crawl space. It took so much elbow grease that I have revised my thoughts on whether duct tape could protect from terrorist attack. It is quite possible it could.
Now we are off to see Driving Miss Daisy, a play at Capital Repertory.
Anyway, there is still quite a lot of snow in most places, but the day was warm, and I thought, what if I get a shovel, and jump the gun a bit - I'll scoop up frozen turds and the surrounding snow, and it will be so much easier to do than waiting for a total melt and having to hunt around in the grass.
Guess again. In some places the snow is frozen into solid ice, meaning it must be chopped at with the shovel. In others it is soft enough so that I broke through when walking - but not immediately - so walking around is a hazard. Oh, I'll try again tomorrow, I guess.
Inside, we worked on finishing up the details in the kitchen, and unfortunately, all the tasks that are left are very hard jobs. I was scraping off some duct tape from many moons ago, that was intended to keep out drafts et al around a plywood platform that goes to the crawl space. It took so much elbow grease that I have revised my thoughts on whether duct tape could protect from terrorist attack. It is quite possible it could.
Now we are off to see Driving Miss Daisy, a play at Capital Repertory.
Friday, March 21, 2003
I guess it must be spring. I watched some little birds hopping around on the yew. It does look a little tattered, but since some of the snow melted its branches are beginning to stand up.
On the downside, I saw two bugs in the kitchen. One was a spider, which I left alone. The other was some kind of weird beetle, black with red markings. I threw it outside.
On the downside, I saw two bugs in the kitchen. One was a spider, which I left alone. The other was some kind of weird beetle, black with red markings. I threw it outside.
The Gully Brook Press website updates for March/April 2003 are complete. This issue of The Nileston News is available in pdf (for ease of viewing) or wpd (to preserve the hyperlinks) and the focus is on saving historic houses (the PDF version is linked here); the latest Virtual Museum is about bungalow houses; and I added a page about a new publication, my 1998 reprint of West Shokan: Eden of the Catskills (1930) by Elwyn Davis.
I have been doing a little more digging about Myrtle McSpirit. I have not had a lot of success yet, but in some ways the lack of information says a lot, too. I am going to keep at it when I have time. Stay tuned.
I have been doing a little more digging about Myrtle McSpirit. I have not had a lot of success yet, but in some ways the lack of information says a lot, too. I am going to keep at it when I have time. Stay tuned.
Thursday, March 20, 2003
Working on the Gully Brook Press updates for March-April. I came across this site which advocates boycotting Target, and links to a journal entry of mine on the Defreest-Church House. Also, the story made Preservation's Best and Worst of 2002 (an aside to East Greenbush and Target: no, this is not something to be proud of).
Wednesday, March 19, 2003
I wasn't going to cross-post this (it's on blogsisters) but then decided if I want to reference it in a teaching reflections summary or something like that it will be easier to find here.
My classes are focused on sociology of education at the moment, and one area we talk about that generates a lot of interest is gender and education. From literature, including 1991's Failing at Fairness: How Schools Cheat Girls and the more recent AAUW's Gender Gaps, we know that girls' learning problems are not identified, boys get more attention in classrooms, and girls start school testing higher in academic subjects but wind up achieving 50 points less on SATs. Finally, middle school is particularly troublesome.
At the same time, U.S. Department of Education data indicates that more girls than boys graduate high school, more women than men receive a bachelor's degree, and women now outnumber men in master's degree programs.
There is a dynamic in education, that achievement is impacted by social group, because while the returns to education are measurable across class, race, ethnicity and gender, as the outcome some groups benefit less than others, and as a result, are not as motivated to complete and excel. But this dynamic does not hold up between men and women. For example, compensation is not equitable between the genders. Yet females are high achievers. So why do women do so well when they receive fewer rewards? Some hypotheses are that women:
-are aware of the discrepancy but don't care
-are focused on the gains of feminism and so ignore the discrepancy
-have a traditionally dependent role which means economic returns are not the motivating factor (i.e. making a "good match")
-are socialized into specific roles in the early years
-value a private motivation (domestic life/home and family/community) more than a public one (economic/polity)
A complicating factor is that boys are disproportionately labeled as having special needs, perhaps because boys more often exhibit developmental delays, or are more likely to have their problems get attention, or because girls are more likely to display rewarded classroom behaviors (sitting quietly, raising her hand in turn).
Personally, I guess I do value private motivation, but at the same time, I see a lot of women in their 30s and 40s returning to college, and many are motived by economic reasons.
My classes are focused on sociology of education at the moment, and one area we talk about that generates a lot of interest is gender and education. From literature, including 1991's Failing at Fairness: How Schools Cheat Girls and the more recent AAUW's Gender Gaps, we know that girls' learning problems are not identified, boys get more attention in classrooms, and girls start school testing higher in academic subjects but wind up achieving 50 points less on SATs. Finally, middle school is particularly troublesome.
At the same time, U.S. Department of Education data indicates that more girls than boys graduate high school, more women than men receive a bachelor's degree, and women now outnumber men in master's degree programs.
There is a dynamic in education, that achievement is impacted by social group, because while the returns to education are measurable across class, race, ethnicity and gender, as the outcome some groups benefit less than others, and as a result, are not as motivated to complete and excel. But this dynamic does not hold up between men and women. For example, compensation is not equitable between the genders. Yet females are high achievers. So why do women do so well when they receive fewer rewards? Some hypotheses are that women:
-are aware of the discrepancy but don't care
-are focused on the gains of feminism and so ignore the discrepancy
-have a traditionally dependent role which means economic returns are not the motivating factor (i.e. making a "good match")
-are socialized into specific roles in the early years
-value a private motivation (domestic life/home and family/community) more than a public one (economic/polity)
A complicating factor is that boys are disproportionately labeled as having special needs, perhaps because boys more often exhibit developmental delays, or are more likely to have their problems get attention, or because girls are more likely to display rewarded classroom behaviors (sitting quietly, raising her hand in turn).
Personally, I guess I do value private motivation, but at the same time, I see a lot of women in their 30s and 40s returning to college, and many are motived by economic reasons.
Good news on the historic preservation front! A threatened 19th century house in Hurley, New York will be saved rather than demolished, according to this story in the Daily Freeman. Thanks for the tip, J.!
I heard through the grapevine that a former friend of mine is in the hospital for alcoholism, taking the cure because of a "stop drinking or die" ultimatum from a doctor. I'm not sure whether it is true not because the vine is unreliable, but because like many alcoholics, the former friend is adept at telling lies.
I can hope that something so awful is true only because the alternative, that she is still drinking, is worse.
I can hope that something so awful is true only because the alternative, that she is still drinking, is worse.
Tuesday, March 18, 2003
Tuesday Too
1.) Where do you stand on the eve of war, and why?
Here's where I stand: I believe this is a complicated topic, and my feelings cannot be characterized as "for" or "against." I don't feel compelled to choose a team and feel all righteous and judgmental or something. I do have thoughts on the subject - it is impossible not to - but I prefer to keep them to myself. I think war is always a bad thing, but at the same time I think removing Saddam is a good thing. I am tired of being bombarded with this subject in the media and here in ejournals (when I see it is the subject, I hit "back" as fast as I can). If I get an email related to this, I hit delete. In fact, I almost skipped the meme today. I rarely read blogsisters any more because it has evolved to continuous, homogenous, narrow-minded views on the subject, and practically nothing else.
I believe "this too shall pass." Mostly I am an optimistic person, believe very much in having a positive outlook, and see the cup as half-full. I prefer to focus on what some call the "little" picture: my family, my routine, my plans for Spring gardening, how to lead a simple life and help people I deal with on a daily basis, which I believe is really the true big, ultimately more profound and important picture.
2.) Has your position caused arguments with friends or family?
No, because I don't believe in wasting precious time, or risking hurt feelings, arguing about politics, religion, etc. Life is too short to sour relationships.
3.) Is there some other issue that has you grinding your teeth? What is it?
Not grinding my teeth exactly, but three things come to mind: animal abuse, loss of historic buildings, and cheating among students, in that order.
1.) Where do you stand on the eve of war, and why?
Here's where I stand: I believe this is a complicated topic, and my feelings cannot be characterized as "for" or "against." I don't feel compelled to choose a team and feel all righteous and judgmental or something. I do have thoughts on the subject - it is impossible not to - but I prefer to keep them to myself. I think war is always a bad thing, but at the same time I think removing Saddam is a good thing. I am tired of being bombarded with this subject in the media and here in ejournals (when I see it is the subject, I hit "back" as fast as I can). If I get an email related to this, I hit delete. In fact, I almost skipped the meme today. I rarely read blogsisters any more because it has evolved to continuous, homogenous, narrow-minded views on the subject, and practically nothing else.
I believe "this too shall pass." Mostly I am an optimistic person, believe very much in having a positive outlook, and see the cup as half-full. I prefer to focus on what some call the "little" picture: my family, my routine, my plans for Spring gardening, how to lead a simple life and help people I deal with on a daily basis, which I believe is really the true big, ultimately more profound and important picture.
2.) Has your position caused arguments with friends or family?
No, because I don't believe in wasting precious time, or risking hurt feelings, arguing about politics, religion, etc. Life is too short to sour relationships.
3.) Is there some other issue that has you grinding your teeth? What is it?
Not grinding my teeth exactly, but three things come to mind: animal abuse, loss of historic buildings, and cheating among students, in that order.
Monday, March 17, 2003
Blogger is acting up. Again. That's one downside of posting more often, one notices how annoying and unreliable this tool can be.
This morning there were two deer attacking the yew in the yard. I watched them from the bathroom window, only about six feet away. It will be a miracle if the bush survives, what with the winter and now this. A bit down the hill, there was another deer grazing on a newly defrosted patch of grass. Soon there will be fawns. My plans for an expanded vegetable garden are evaporating. I live with this in Samsonville, but here in Castleton? They can have the yew, even some of the hosta, but I am not willing to share the green beans. (Or maybe I would be, but experience tells me the deer are not.) So another project is on the horizon: a garden fence. Assuming the ten feet of snow melt in time, that is (I am only exaggerating a little).
Happy St. Patrick's Day! The weather yesterday was picture perfect for a parade.
This morning there were two deer attacking the yew in the yard. I watched them from the bathroom window, only about six feet away. It will be a miracle if the bush survives, what with the winter and now this. A bit down the hill, there was another deer grazing on a newly defrosted patch of grass. Soon there will be fawns. My plans for an expanded vegetable garden are evaporating. I live with this in Samsonville, but here in Castleton? They can have the yew, even some of the hosta, but I am not willing to share the green beans. (Or maybe I would be, but experience tells me the deer are not.) So another project is on the horizon: a garden fence. Assuming the ten feet of snow melt in time, that is (I am only exaggerating a little).
Happy St. Patrick's Day! The weather yesterday was picture perfect for a parade.
Sunday, March 16, 2003
I may have to revise my goal of writing here every day, since I have not been able to do it so far. The original goal of once per week was easy to exceed, but daily posting may be reaching. I don't know. I guess I won't abandon it yet, though sometimes this may lead to less than riveting entries...
I write from Samsonville. After a hard working week, what with the kitchen rehab, and mid-semester assessments of students, it is nice to be here, away, and put a physical distance, that forces a mental distance from those projects. But I forget how frustrating a dial-up connection can be! So slow...how did I manage?
Occasionally I check, and it is interesting to see how folks find there way here. Recently a lot navigate from typing "Trafficmaster vinyl tiles" in a search engine. (Yes, they are great in terms of installation, I have not had them down long enough to see how they hold up.) My historic preservation stuff yields visitors, too, both the Wynkoop House (which still stands, keep your fingers crossed) and the Defreest-Church House (which does not, and is rapidly being replaced by a Target, ugh, boycott them). As soon as I clear my plate, I am going to work on a new virtual museum and newsletter, and historic preservation will be the focus of the newsletter. I'm considering architecture - maybe bungalows - for the virtual museum, but it's still brewing.
Today I walked the dogs without wearing my coat. I think it must have been nearly 60 degrees outside! Sophie was vacuuming the exposed ground, it has been so long since there was any without snow cover. Plus, with her hair and low to the ground issues, it is hard for her when it is cold and snowy. (Or, for that matter, because of her allergy issues, when it is hot with vegetation.) The dogs play a tug of war, with me as the object that gets pulled in two directions. Rudy wants to trot off, covering lots of territory. Sophie wants to sniff every inch, as slowly as this dial-up connection, usually in the opposite direction. Obedience training, you say? Ha!
Tonight we had a corned beef, cabbage, potatoes and carrots dinner at Aunt Dot's (with cappuccino cheesecake and chocolate chip cookies). Yum! Tomorrow is the St. Patrick's Day parade.
I write from Samsonville. After a hard working week, what with the kitchen rehab, and mid-semester assessments of students, it is nice to be here, away, and put a physical distance, that forces a mental distance from those projects. But I forget how frustrating a dial-up connection can be! So slow...how did I manage?
Occasionally I check, and it is interesting to see how folks find there way here. Recently a lot navigate from typing "Trafficmaster vinyl tiles" in a search engine. (Yes, they are great in terms of installation, I have not had them down long enough to see how they hold up.) My historic preservation stuff yields visitors, too, both the Wynkoop House (which still stands, keep your fingers crossed) and the Defreest-Church House (which does not, and is rapidly being replaced by a Target, ugh, boycott them). As soon as I clear my plate, I am going to work on a new virtual museum and newsletter, and historic preservation will be the focus of the newsletter. I'm considering architecture - maybe bungalows - for the virtual museum, but it's still brewing.
Today I walked the dogs without wearing my coat. I think it must have been nearly 60 degrees outside! Sophie was vacuuming the exposed ground, it has been so long since there was any without snow cover. Plus, with her hair and low to the ground issues, it is hard for her when it is cold and snowy. (Or, for that matter, because of her allergy issues, when it is hot with vegetation.) The dogs play a tug of war, with me as the object that gets pulled in two directions. Rudy wants to trot off, covering lots of territory. Sophie wants to sniff every inch, as slowly as this dial-up connection, usually in the opposite direction. Obedience training, you say? Ha!
Tonight we had a corned beef, cabbage, potatoes and carrots dinner at Aunt Dot's (with cappuccino cheesecake and chocolate chip cookies). Yum! Tomorrow is the St. Patrick's Day parade.
Thursday, March 13, 2003
Worked all day on the kitchen floor tile job. I do mean all day, from 8:30 a.m. to 10:30 p.m. I did take a couple of breaks...to check my voice mail and email. Summer registration is coming soon and so students are starting to contact me for advisement. Also, the third group projects started today in the online class so I had to spend a little while on that. But the majority of the day was like a show on HGTV, except on that channel projects look so easy, quick, clean...and there is a TV crew on site to help!
Anyway, it's almost done, but unfortunately what's left are quite a few tiles at the edges here and there that need to be cut, and a few will be difficult to trim and fit. So I guess I missed another entry! Home improvement and writing in the ejournal everyday conflict.
Now I'm off to ebay to try to get a hanging lamp for over the table.
Anyway, it's almost done, but unfortunately what's left are quite a few tiles at the edges here and there that need to be cut, and a few will be difficult to trim and fit. So I guess I missed another entry! Home improvement and writing in the ejournal everyday conflict.
Now I'm off to ebay to try to get a hanging lamp for over the table.
Tuesday, March 11, 2003
Tuesday Too
1.) What's your take on this article from the New York Times today?
I have several reactions:
(I) I remember this subject was extensively discussed when I was a student in the MPA program. There are a lot of issues raised by being able to connect discrete databases because of innovations in technology (for example social services with criminal justice with health with etc.) and thereby make access to information so much easier. I've heard questions like, will employers not offer jobs to individuals with health conditions that might cause excessive time off or increased health insurance premiums? Will the State use EZ-Pass (New York's automated system for paying tolls on the NYS Thruway) to track speeders by calculating how long it should take a driver to get from Exit A to Exit B? (And I privately think, tell me again, how is that second question a bad thing?)
(II) Now because of our current political situation people outside of grad schools are thinking about the nuances of this. It is complicated. I think to a very large degree this is already going on; not just in government, but in industry, here on the Internet, you name it. That Spam is coming from somewhere. If technology can do it, then someone will implement it, scary or not. Do I think there could be a problem, maybe in some cases already is a problem? Yes. Am I concerned or upset at the moment? No. I think I have written here before (and I really write very little on this topic, and I will not start now) a lot of things changed for me on 09/11/2001. Call me naive for this answer, but before that date I think I really was clueless.
(III) I applaud individuals who stand up for what they believe in by "putting their money where their mouth is." I once left a job because I didn't agree with the agenda of the new management. It was a big risk, but I landed on my feet. I have no tolerance for hypocrites who keep putting in time and collecting a paycheck, then bad mouth the organization, damage morale, all the while whining that they have no options, pretending that they somehow are above it all, and are not endorsing the company line.
2.) Network television is swimming in "reality" shows. You are the creator of the latest show to hit the circuit. Give a brief description of your show. Sarcasm welcomed.
"Survivor, No Joke." Contestants fight until death, and the last person left alive is the winner. Loosely based on The Lottery.
3.) What do you really wish you were doing today?
Home, in the company of my animals, finishing the install of the kitchen floor tiles. (I worked at it until 2 a.m. last night!) But instead this is my day on campus.
1.) What's your take on this article from the New York Times today?
I have several reactions:
(I) I remember this subject was extensively discussed when I was a student in the MPA program. There are a lot of issues raised by being able to connect discrete databases because of innovations in technology (for example social services with criminal justice with health with etc.) and thereby make access to information so much easier. I've heard questions like, will employers not offer jobs to individuals with health conditions that might cause excessive time off or increased health insurance premiums? Will the State use EZ-Pass (New York's automated system for paying tolls on the NYS Thruway) to track speeders by calculating how long it should take a driver to get from Exit A to Exit B? (And I privately think, tell me again, how is that second question a bad thing?)
(II) Now because of our current political situation people outside of grad schools are thinking about the nuances of this. It is complicated. I think to a very large degree this is already going on; not just in government, but in industry, here on the Internet, you name it. That Spam is coming from somewhere. If technology can do it, then someone will implement it, scary or not. Do I think there could be a problem, maybe in some cases already is a problem? Yes. Am I concerned or upset at the moment? No. I think I have written here before (and I really write very little on this topic, and I will not start now) a lot of things changed for me on 09/11/2001. Call me naive for this answer, but before that date I think I really was clueless.
(III) I applaud individuals who stand up for what they believe in by "putting their money where their mouth is." I once left a job because I didn't agree with the agenda of the new management. It was a big risk, but I landed on my feet. I have no tolerance for hypocrites who keep putting in time and collecting a paycheck, then bad mouth the organization, damage morale, all the while whining that they have no options, pretending that they somehow are above it all, and are not endorsing the company line.
2.) Network television is swimming in "reality" shows. You are the creator of the latest show to hit the circuit. Give a brief description of your show. Sarcasm welcomed.
"Survivor, No Joke." Contestants fight until death, and the last person left alive is the winner. Loosely based on The Lottery.
3.) What do you really wish you were doing today?
Home, in the company of my animals, finishing the install of the kitchen floor tiles. (I worked at it until 2 a.m. last night!) But instead this is my day on campus.
Monday, March 10, 2003
I have a gorgeous antique bookcase that was Mimmie's. In my lifetime she used it to store utility items on the back porch. It was painted green and sat next to the springy wooden screen door that creaked when you opened it. The porch at the old place had the fragrance of mildew mingled with cats. It may seem strange to choose the word "fragrance" to describe the odor but in my memory it wasn't unpleasant. My front porch here in Castleton smells much the same way, which could be another reason I like this funny little house. But open my front door and the scent "hound" may knock you down; this wasn't the case at Mimmie's.
Ma remembers that Mimmie cut the bookcase in half during the 1940s, so that it would fit in the living room at the house where they lived at that time. The woodstove may be what happened to its other half, sacrificed for an apple pie and a pot of baked beans. In the 1970s, a couple of years before Mimmie moved from the old place to her trailer, my mother stripped the green paint away and revealed solid oak. My growing collection of novels replaced the paint cans on its four shelves.
It sits now in my living room, and holds my finest books. The top two shelves are devoted to Mark Twain, and should he need more space, the others will be gradually evicted. There is one shelf for a set of his complete works, and one shelf for miscellaneous copies of his books. Just some examples of my collection: I have The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn from 1948, A Horse's Tale from 1907, A five volume set of his more popular works from 1917, A 2001 copy of A Murder, a Mystery and A Marriage, and two versions of his two volume set autobiography from 1925. I have six copies of various editions of Life on the Mississippi and four copies of Huck Finn. I've never formally studied Mark Twain. His books were not assigned in high school, and I never took a college class that included his work either. Regardless, you might say I'm enamored with the subject.
The bottom shelf houses The International Cyclopaedia (1892); the third shelf contains various hardcover books, including Lincoln by Gore Vidal, The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, some Georgette Heyer novels that were gifts from Aunt Jean and have been worthy of a place in the oak bookcase since it became mine in high school, several dictionaries, and books about Mark Twain written by different scholars.
From my later studies I know this handsome furniture is Federal-style. Sometimes I notice the still-rough end and I lament that Mimmie sawed this piece in two. Then I assess the size of the room and realize that it wouldn't fit anywhere if it was still intact.
Ma remembers that Mimmie cut the bookcase in half during the 1940s, so that it would fit in the living room at the house where they lived at that time. The woodstove may be what happened to its other half, sacrificed for an apple pie and a pot of baked beans. In the 1970s, a couple of years before Mimmie moved from the old place to her trailer, my mother stripped the green paint away and revealed solid oak. My growing collection of novels replaced the paint cans on its four shelves.
It sits now in my living room, and holds my finest books. The top two shelves are devoted to Mark Twain, and should he need more space, the others will be gradually evicted. There is one shelf for a set of his complete works, and one shelf for miscellaneous copies of his books. Just some examples of my collection: I have The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn from 1948, A Horse's Tale from 1907, A five volume set of his more popular works from 1917, A 2001 copy of A Murder, a Mystery and A Marriage, and two versions of his two volume set autobiography from 1925. I have six copies of various editions of Life on the Mississippi and four copies of Huck Finn. I've never formally studied Mark Twain. His books were not assigned in high school, and I never took a college class that included his work either. Regardless, you might say I'm enamored with the subject.
The bottom shelf houses The International Cyclopaedia (1892); the third shelf contains various hardcover books, including Lincoln by Gore Vidal, The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, some Georgette Heyer novels that were gifts from Aunt Jean and have been worthy of a place in the oak bookcase since it became mine in high school, several dictionaries, and books about Mark Twain written by different scholars.
From my later studies I know this handsome furniture is Federal-style. Sometimes I notice the still-rough end and I lament that Mimmie sawed this piece in two. Then I assess the size of the room and realize that it wouldn't fit anywhere if it was still intact.
One week into my goal of posting every day and I missed a day. Well, that will happen. I was thinking of writing, and so I have some pent up ideas.
The kitchen is getting there. The tiles are coming out great, and actually are kind of fun to install. Bob finished the wallpaper and border on the wall near the stove so we can cook. Still, there is complete chaos in the room. We are doing half the room at a time, which is the only way home improvement projects can be managed in a house this small.
We had to call it a day on the early side yesterday, since we had tickets to see Mary Black. What a voice! I agree with the reviewer, except I don't have even a tiny criticism. It was a relaxing way to end the weekend, and it was good to be forced to stop working for a while.
We saw the concert at the Egg. Bob is a member and we had front row seats! The centerpiece of Albany's skyline is Governor Nelson E. Rockefeller Empire State Plaza, and the Egg is one of GNARESP's (what an acronym) many interesting features. It's hard to go to the Egg, even when captivated by Irish folk and contemporary music, and not have a thought of Rockefeller. His vision, his wealth, his power, his lasting impact on New York. The circumventing of the State constitution. The multi-campus State university. The construction of Empire Plaza was controversial during his time. The tragic displacement, the huge expense. When I walk around the plaza I feel as if I have transported to some utopian novel.
The kitchen is getting there. The tiles are coming out great, and actually are kind of fun to install. Bob finished the wallpaper and border on the wall near the stove so we can cook. Still, there is complete chaos in the room. We are doing half the room at a time, which is the only way home improvement projects can be managed in a house this small.
We had to call it a day on the early side yesterday, since we had tickets to see Mary Black. What a voice! I agree with the reviewer, except I don't have even a tiny criticism. It was a relaxing way to end the weekend, and it was good to be forced to stop working for a while.
We saw the concert at the Egg. Bob is a member and we had front row seats! The centerpiece of Albany's skyline is Governor Nelson E. Rockefeller Empire State Plaza, and the Egg is one of GNARESP's (what an acronym) many interesting features. It's hard to go to the Egg, even when captivated by Irish folk and contemporary music, and not have a thought of Rockefeller. His vision, his wealth, his power, his lasting impact on New York. The circumventing of the State constitution. The multi-campus State university. The construction of Empire Plaza was controversial during his time. The tragic displacement, the huge expense. When I walk around the plaza I feel as if I have transported to some utopian novel.
Saturday, March 08, 2003
Now that the crows have been chased away, they are going after the pigeons. Sigh. Oh horrors, wouldn't want those darn birds to soil the shoes of sports fans.
Taking a break from stripping the wallpaper in the kitchen, but I'd better get back to it. I don't want to live with disruption. I have an idea that will have to keep. So, more later.
Taking a break from stripping the wallpaper in the kitchen, but I'd better get back to it. I don't want to live with disruption. I have an idea that will have to keep. So, more later.
Friday, March 07, 2003
I finished the taxes, what a relief. As it turns out, itemizing was worth it.
Today in the Times Union, there was a letter to the editor about the crow problem in Albany. I've been following the story for a several weeks. (Unfortunately the other columns, stories and letters are no longer accessible for free.) It seems some people have complained about the large number of crows gathering in their neighborhoods. So those responsible for such things have been using "fireworks, laser, and alarming sounds" to chase them away, which is much better than an alternative, recreational shoots, but it still rubs me the wrong way.
A couple of months ago, I was on campus in the evening during intercession, and all was quiet except for the crows. There were a lot of them in the trees near the education building. Yeah, it was kind of reminiscent of The Birds, but that is more a testament to Alfred Hitchcock's skill in etching his movies into our memories than an indictment of the crows that were gathered there. Poor maligned birds!
Today's story made me remember last weekend, when my parents were telling me about a raven at the farm who was at risk of becoming a hawk's dinner. My mother calls the ravens John Henry, and considers them her friends. She watched as this John Henry did some fancy flying to avoid the hawk. She was rooting for him to fly under the eaves of the barn, but he didn't. She wasn't sure if he got away.
I always get so mad when I hear that people want to accommodate human sprawl by interfering with animals. It isn't that I don't feel bad when an alligator rips off someone's arm at a golf course, or a bear kills a baby. But we should remember that the people were invading the alligator's and bear's spaces. Wild animals are not the cute and cuddly images that Disney promotes. They are a part of nature and should be respected, simple as that. Why must we always insist on trying to transform nature, when the truth is we can never win?
Sort of related are the occasions when someone from a new housing development tries to get zoning passed to eliminate a nearby farm, because they believe the odors of chicken or cow manure (notice I'm not including horse because we all accept that it smells good) are offensive. So move!
There's a webring devoted to crows and ravens. And no post would be complete without mentioning Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven. I wonder if this poem, and not Hitchcock, is responsible for human dislike of a bird? True, they scavenge, and are often seen near dead stuff. But eating up roadkill strikes me as useful, rather than evil. The circle of nature at work. It also helps out the highway crews, saving us tax money.
See, I managed to bring it back to my opening...
Today in the Times Union, there was a letter to the editor about the crow problem in Albany. I've been following the story for a several weeks. (Unfortunately the other columns, stories and letters are no longer accessible for free.) It seems some people have complained about the large number of crows gathering in their neighborhoods. So those responsible for such things have been using "fireworks, laser, and alarming sounds" to chase them away, which is much better than an alternative, recreational shoots, but it still rubs me the wrong way.
A couple of months ago, I was on campus in the evening during intercession, and all was quiet except for the crows. There were a lot of them in the trees near the education building. Yeah, it was kind of reminiscent of The Birds, but that is more a testament to Alfred Hitchcock's skill in etching his movies into our memories than an indictment of the crows that were gathered there. Poor maligned birds!
Today's story made me remember last weekend, when my parents were telling me about a raven at the farm who was at risk of becoming a hawk's dinner. My mother calls the ravens John Henry, and considers them her friends. She watched as this John Henry did some fancy flying to avoid the hawk. She was rooting for him to fly under the eaves of the barn, but he didn't. She wasn't sure if he got away.
I always get so mad when I hear that people want to accommodate human sprawl by interfering with animals. It isn't that I don't feel bad when an alligator rips off someone's arm at a golf course, or a bear kills a baby. But we should remember that the people were invading the alligator's and bear's spaces. Wild animals are not the cute and cuddly images that Disney promotes. They are a part of nature and should be respected, simple as that. Why must we always insist on trying to transform nature, when the truth is we can never win?
Sort of related are the occasions when someone from a new housing development tries to get zoning passed to eliminate a nearby farm, because they believe the odors of chicken or cow manure (notice I'm not including horse because we all accept that it smells good) are offensive. So move!
There's a webring devoted to crows and ravens. And no post would be complete without mentioning Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven. I wonder if this poem, and not Hitchcock, is responsible for human dislike of a bird? True, they scavenge, and are often seen near dead stuff. But eating up roadkill strikes me as useful, rather than evil. The circle of nature at work. It also helps out the highway crews, saving us tax money.
See, I managed to bring it back to my opening...
Thursday, March 06, 2003
It is snowing again today. One day of hovering just above the freezing mark, a glimmer of spring (I am dreaming of using the terraced garden Bob created last year for rows of zucchini, although the seven deer I saw last week - in Castleton! - mean a fence must be erected first), and then the winter of 2003 continues.
We need a new kitchen floor. We’ve replaced it once since we moved in, and it is now that black and white checkerboard pattern so popular in the 80s. It’s very beat up, due to our poor installation job (sheet vinyl requires more than average do-it-yourselfer skills it seems) and Rudy’s puppyhood. I patched the places where Rudy tore big holes; only some came out good. Others lasted a while and are now fraying.
The original floor was old-fashioned grey tile. That was beat up too, and also dull. The sheet vinyl is still shiny, on those rare occasions when it is clean. I’ve learned that “easy to maintain” is a more important criteria than color and design when choosing floor covering.
Last year we decided to update the floor and ventured to the little store (no big boxes for us) where we bought the current Mannington, in search of the perfect vinyl. This time we’ll pay for installation, we resolved. We looked at every brand and every quality level. Three sets of laminate swatches graced the kitchen for several days each. We compared them to the counter top and table. We stepped on them with dirty shoes and splashed water on them. We dripped tomato sauce and soda. We considered them in natural and electric light. Rudy obliged us by sprawling across his favorites.
We made so many trips over the course of a couple of weeks that we started to develop a friendly relationship with the salesperson. Finally we made our decision, one of the more expensive Armstrongs. The salesperson stopped by one evening to measure and give us a definitive price. When she finished, her quote was so much higher than the rough estimate in the store that we both were shocked. One disdainful sniff (my memory may be embellishing a little) and she quickly left, making no effort to close the deal. I think she didn’t like dogs, didn’t like this crooked little house, and maybe even changed her mind about me. She started to act funny after I told her that I work at home most of the time. But I guess a pair of hounds howling in the yard and the obviously difficult install didn’t help. Was she expecting a houseplant-free track house?
Years ago we did some contract painting and wallpapering to make extra money. I remember we gave an overpriced estimate any time we didn’t want the job. That’s kind of a polite way of getting away. There is always the risk that it will backfire and the person will accept your fee, but then the price is generous so it (sort of) compensates.
If that is what she was doing, it almost backfired, because we wanted a new floor so much. It was way, way past the time to replace it. But cheapness prevailed, and we’ve lived with the worn black and white checkerboard for another year. It’s a great kitchen even with the battered floor, but not in the granite counter tops and stainless steel appliances sense of kitchens circa Y2K. It’s homey, in the 1940s birch cabinets, built-in pantries and ceramic tile walls way, with a pot of soup bubbling on the stove and a batch of chocolate chip cookies in the oven. When the water main in front of our house snapped in December, the man who fixed it smiled as he walked through the kitchen. The house had belonged to his grandparents when he was a kid. “I had a lot of Sunday dinners in this room,” he remarked.
At the same time as our quest to fix the Castleton kitchen, the floors in Samsonville are a question. They are completely unfinished, a few area rugs over a concrete slab. We go ‘round and ‘round on what to do with them. Wood? Slate? Ceramic Tile? Carpet? Vinyl? Pergo? Which one where? What color? What can we do ourselves without too much aggravation? What will it cost to have someone else do it? And here I really don’t like shopping, become paralyzed by too many choices.
Enter a brand new product in this land of consumer wonders, Trafficmaster solid vinyl floor tile. Of course Bob, and not I, discovered it. It can go on top of concrete or sheet vinyl. It is self-stick, but commercial grade. The best part is there are only four patterns. Actually, the website lists 11 - but four are available at the store right now. (Yes, unfortunately it's from a big box.) Get it now before more come out and complicate things! He tested this one on the pristine cement floor of the bedroom closet in Samsonville last weekend. Eureka! Where can we put this color? And how about this one for the bathroom?
This weekend is the real challenge, when the Castleton kitchen becomes Verdestone. Bob observes that it most likely will take us longer to clean the floor than to lay the tiles.
The original floor was old-fashioned grey tile. That was beat up too, and also dull. The sheet vinyl is still shiny, on those rare occasions when it is clean. I’ve learned that “easy to maintain” is a more important criteria than color and design when choosing floor covering.
Last year we decided to update the floor and ventured to the little store (no big boxes for us) where we bought the current Mannington, in search of the perfect vinyl. This time we’ll pay for installation, we resolved. We looked at every brand and every quality level. Three sets of laminate swatches graced the kitchen for several days each. We compared them to the counter top and table. We stepped on them with dirty shoes and splashed water on them. We dripped tomato sauce and soda. We considered them in natural and electric light. Rudy obliged us by sprawling across his favorites.
We made so many trips over the course of a couple of weeks that we started to develop a friendly relationship with the salesperson. Finally we made our decision, one of the more expensive Armstrongs. The salesperson stopped by one evening to measure and give us a definitive price. When she finished, her quote was so much higher than the rough estimate in the store that we both were shocked. One disdainful sniff (my memory may be embellishing a little) and she quickly left, making no effort to close the deal. I think she didn’t like dogs, didn’t like this crooked little house, and maybe even changed her mind about me. She started to act funny after I told her that I work at home most of the time. But I guess a pair of hounds howling in the yard and the obviously difficult install didn’t help. Was she expecting a houseplant-free track house?
Years ago we did some contract painting and wallpapering to make extra money. I remember we gave an overpriced estimate any time we didn’t want the job. That’s kind of a polite way of getting away. There is always the risk that it will backfire and the person will accept your fee, but then the price is generous so it (sort of) compensates.
If that is what she was doing, it almost backfired, because we wanted a new floor so much. It was way, way past the time to replace it. But cheapness prevailed, and we’ve lived with the worn black and white checkerboard for another year. It’s a great kitchen even with the battered floor, but not in the granite counter tops and stainless steel appliances sense of kitchens circa Y2K. It’s homey, in the 1940s birch cabinets, built-in pantries and ceramic tile walls way, with a pot of soup bubbling on the stove and a batch of chocolate chip cookies in the oven. When the water main in front of our house snapped in December, the man who fixed it smiled as he walked through the kitchen. The house had belonged to his grandparents when he was a kid. “I had a lot of Sunday dinners in this room,” he remarked.
At the same time as our quest to fix the Castleton kitchen, the floors in Samsonville are a question. They are completely unfinished, a few area rugs over a concrete slab. We go ‘round and ‘round on what to do with them. Wood? Slate? Ceramic Tile? Carpet? Vinyl? Pergo? Which one where? What color? What can we do ourselves without too much aggravation? What will it cost to have someone else do it? And here I really don’t like shopping, become paralyzed by too many choices.
Enter a brand new product in this land of consumer wonders, Trafficmaster solid vinyl floor tile. Of course Bob, and not I, discovered it. It can go on top of concrete or sheet vinyl. It is self-stick, but commercial grade. The best part is there are only four patterns. Actually, the website lists 11 - but four are available at the store right now. (Yes, unfortunately it's from a big box.) Get it now before more come out and complicate things! He tested this one on the pristine cement floor of the bedroom closet in Samsonville last weekend. Eureka! Where can we put this color? And how about this one for the bathroom?
This weekend is the real challenge, when the Castleton kitchen becomes Verdestone. Bob observes that it most likely will take us longer to clean the floor than to lay the tiles.
Wednesday, March 05, 2003
Working on the taxes! Brave soul, I always do them myself. My systems are a lot better than they used to be - so it involves less paper "hunting," but the headache inducing part is all those extra forms that must be filled out - seeing daylight until - on no, I don't answer "no" to enough categories...must add Schedule C, and form 8829, and Schedule D...ah, luckily I don't need D-1. Then I never learn my lesson about itemizing deductions, go through all the hassle and it only equals the standard deduction anyway. Is it me or do taxes become more irritating as you age?
Tuesday, March 04, 2003
Welcome back Tuesday Too!
1.) Do you know about GeoURL? Check it out to find your neighbor's blog, or the web page of a restaurant near you. Find your house with a satellite photo map, and put your self in the database if you're so inclined.
Interesting site! Thanks for the link.
2.) How many times have you redesigned, or chosen a new template for your blog/journal, and are you content with your current look?
I've used the same standard template from Blogger since I started my online journal a year ago. I like purple!
When I got a new computer in January, I noticed the fonts looked really tiny on the new machine. I had always thought the point size was on the too small side, although I never did anything about it, but this was ridiculous. Anyway, I tweaked the sizes a little - now I think they look a tad too large on my old machine (the link for soap in particular) but in terms of being easy on the eyes, larger font sizes are usually better. I've added a graphic now and then to the box on the right side, but that's the extent of my personal influence on the page's design.
I can manage a bit of html, and make simple pages in Adobe PageMill, but my efforts here are about writing - not web design.
3.) From The New York Times February 11, 2003: "...The federal appeals court in St. Louis ruled yesterday that officials in Arkansas can force a prisoner on death row to take antipsychotic medication to make him sane enough to execute. Without the drugs, the prisoner, Charles Laverne Singleton, could not be put to death under a United States Supreme Court decision that prohibits the execution of the insane." The prisoner referred to was convicted of murder, and sentenced to death for in 1979. You've probably already heard about this, but what do you think/feel about it?
Ugh. I am not a supporter of the death penalty. And there is something even more creepy about making someone sane with medication simply so they can be legally executed. On the other hand, I must admit to having a hard time whipping up a bunch of sympathy for a murderer.
1.) Do you know about GeoURL? Check it out to find your neighbor's blog, or the web page of a restaurant near you. Find your house with a satellite photo map, and put your self in the database if you're so inclined.
Interesting site! Thanks for the link.
2.) How many times have you redesigned, or chosen a new template for your blog/journal, and are you content with your current look?
I've used the same standard template from Blogger since I started my online journal a year ago. I like purple!
When I got a new computer in January, I noticed the fonts looked really tiny on the new machine. I had always thought the point size was on the too small side, although I never did anything about it, but this was ridiculous. Anyway, I tweaked the sizes a little - now I think they look a tad too large on my old machine (the link for soap in particular) but in terms of being easy on the eyes, larger font sizes are usually better. I've added a graphic now and then to the box on the right side, but that's the extent of my personal influence on the page's design.
I can manage a bit of html, and make simple pages in Adobe PageMill, but my efforts here are about writing - not web design.
3.) From The New York Times February 11, 2003: "...The federal appeals court in St. Louis ruled yesterday that officials in Arkansas can force a prisoner on death row to take antipsychotic medication to make him sane enough to execute. Without the drugs, the prisoner, Charles Laverne Singleton, could not be put to death under a United States Supreme Court decision that prohibits the execution of the insane." The prisoner referred to was convicted of murder, and sentenced to death for in 1979. You've probably already heard about this, but what do you think/feel about it?
Ugh. I am not a supporter of the death penalty. And there is something even more creepy about making someone sane with medication simply so they can be legally executed. On the other hand, I must admit to having a hard time whipping up a bunch of sympathy for a murderer.
Here's something about animal abuse from the Albany Times Union. I skipped the original story - the headline was enough to upset me. I usually can't read anything on this subject at all, but I couldn't resist this column. I'm glad the penalties were more severe than usual, but it still isn't nearly enough.
Monday, March 03, 2003
This kind of thing gets lots of professors worked up, at least according to the Chronicle of Higher Education. Although I really don't like the idea that students sign up for a class solely to get off easily, or that someone is taking advantage of students by selling them this kind of information, I'm not bothered by rating services. I say so what? I expect a lot of work, and at the same time, I am happy to give students good grades who complete that work. I don't try to hide that. I believe all students have the potential to be "A" students, and should have the opportunity to resubmit work that is poor. I also believe "B" is a perfectly fine grade. Also, I take feedback and evaluations very seriously, and try to collect such data myself.
Sunday, March 02, 2003
The Samsonville house is log, and log houses have gaps that must be caulked to keep out drafts and vermin. We haven't been here much when the temperature is below zero, because the Castleton house cannot be left unattended when it is that cold, so I really haven't minded the draftiness. But vermin - namely big ants that chew the wood and leave piles of sawdust everywhere - I can do without. So this weekend I caulked in the bathroom and the bedroom, while Bob worked on finishing the closet. Small progress, but progress nonetheless.
Saturday, March 01, 2003
I'm in Samsonville, after not being here for several weekends in a row. I think it was the longest stretch we've had of not coming here since we've had this house. The pool is taking a beating. I hope the cover holds up under the weight of the ice and snow, although there is less snow on the ground here than in the Capital District.
Happy One Year Anniversary to Gully Brook Press!
Happy One Year Anniversary to Gully Brook Press!
Friday, February 28, 2003
Spring break is next week. This means the on campus class doesn't meet (after being cancelled last week due to snow), but the online class chugs along as usual. When I attended training classes to learn how to teach over the Internet, we were advised not to go on hiatus, since some students attend campuses that do not have the same schedule, and also because students usually appreciate being able to focus on the course while their other classes are not in session. Also, the nature of the delivery method means students can access it from anywhere, whether it is the beach at Daytona, their parents' livingroom, or a Kinko's somewhere. This is my ninth semester of online teaching, and it has never been an issue before, so I figure that the trainer was correct in that advice. Then comes this semester, where a handful of students are really, really pissed. Maybe because it has been a long winter?
We are studying the philosophy of education in both sections right now. It has never been my favorite subject, because it involves some pretty dense lecturing to get the material across. However, this year I am using group exercises in class, and the online groups' assignments are to come up with discussion questions based on the themes of the class. (The on campus groups make presentations at the end of the semester.) Because of student feedback from last semester, I have been putting a lot of effort into the online group activity. The philosophy of education group came up with interesting questions that focused on preferences regarding personal teaching philosophies.
I was thinking about their questions, about how non-authortarian student-centered methods sound so appealing, but how a lot of the time authortarian teacher-centered methods wind up winning out. I really struggle with this. I much prefer, when teaching in the classroom, the formal organization of rows with me at the desk or lectern. Oh, I make an effort to walk around a bit, but mostly in the front of the class. I'm not a big status hog, but for some reason I've never liked the sitting in a circle approach, not now, not when I was a student. It is a trivial example, but it illustrates what happens much of the time, the lecture, or as we say, "chalk and talk." Me getting a sore throat and them filling up notebooks. I guess I'm not great at facilitating discussion, although when my evaluations come back that isn't what they say. Students think we discuss more in class than in many of their other classes, which really shows the in general emphasis on lecturing.
On the other hand, although I control the organization, the online class seems much more student-centered, perhaps because of the type of student who signs up, and also because of the delivery method. The discussion in online learning is greatly enhanced, in spite of losing the body language aspect. Everyone contributes, which most definitely does not happen in the classroom. Students are much more reluctant to speak up in class. I know I always was, even if I had something good to say. Lots of students simply are not glib, and a few dominate.
Interesting, the most student-centered activity in both classes - the group - is favored by most students in the classroom, and hated by many students in the electronic section. This is probably because the on campus students are more social, and it is a nice break from teacher-centeredness for them. Also because the preference is for independent, self-directed learning among the online cohort, and a bit because of the difficulty of "meeting" using the electronic delivery method.
We are studying the philosophy of education in both sections right now. It has never been my favorite subject, because it involves some pretty dense lecturing to get the material across. However, this year I am using group exercises in class, and the online groups' assignments are to come up with discussion questions based on the themes of the class. (The on campus groups make presentations at the end of the semester.) Because of student feedback from last semester, I have been putting a lot of effort into the online group activity. The philosophy of education group came up with interesting questions that focused on preferences regarding personal teaching philosophies.
I was thinking about their questions, about how non-authortarian student-centered methods sound so appealing, but how a lot of the time authortarian teacher-centered methods wind up winning out. I really struggle with this. I much prefer, when teaching in the classroom, the formal organization of rows with me at the desk or lectern. Oh, I make an effort to walk around a bit, but mostly in the front of the class. I'm not a big status hog, but for some reason I've never liked the sitting in a circle approach, not now, not when I was a student. It is a trivial example, but it illustrates what happens much of the time, the lecture, or as we say, "chalk and talk." Me getting a sore throat and them filling up notebooks. I guess I'm not great at facilitating discussion, although when my evaluations come back that isn't what they say. Students think we discuss more in class than in many of their other classes, which really shows the in general emphasis on lecturing.
On the other hand, although I control the organization, the online class seems much more student-centered, perhaps because of the type of student who signs up, and also because of the delivery method. The discussion in online learning is greatly enhanced, in spite of losing the body language aspect. Everyone contributes, which most definitely does not happen in the classroom. Students are much more reluctant to speak up in class. I know I always was, even if I had something good to say. Lots of students simply are not glib, and a few dominate.
Interesting, the most student-centered activity in both classes - the group - is favored by most students in the classroom, and hated by many students in the electronic section. This is probably because the on campus students are more social, and it is a nice break from teacher-centeredness for them. Also because the preference is for independent, self-directed learning among the online cohort, and a bit because of the difficulty of "meeting" using the electronic delivery method.
Thursday, February 27, 2003
Saturday will be the one year anniversary of this website and ejournal.
It has been an interesting year. I get occasional emails from folks who stumble here. The majority are genealogy inquiries. Among the non-genealogical, the one that stands out was from Officer David Lim, because of my story about Sirius.
There are so many electronic journals on the Internet, and more now than a year ago. It is hard to make generalizations about something so huge. In fact, that's about all one can say with certainty. But why should that prevent me from elaborating?
I’ve exceeded my expectations, in terms of maintaining the online journal. When paper journaling, I’ve always had gaps of weeks or months where I put it aside and didn’t write anything. That hasn’t happened here. But I do think, for the next year, I will make an effort to write almost every day, rather than once per week, which was my original goal. I update the remainder of my Gully Brook Press website, namely the newsletter and virtual museum, every other month, and so far that seems to be working. Originally I had planned on once per month, but I couldn't manage it. I think the March-April 2003 focus will be on historic preservation.
My ideas about electronic journaling have evolved, but some of my early impressions contained a bit of truth, too. There is an aspect that I noted early on, this is just another forum of ignorance, the kind of thing that makes me turn off the radio and television, that leads to flames on discussion boards, the sort of reasoning that I struggle to get students not to embrace. There are too many psuedo-journalism rants and not enough well-crafted writing. Everyone’s a commentator. I am reminded of a line of Kathleen Turner’s in “Peggy Sue Got Married;” she was under the stars with the rebel from high school, and he was showing off, trying to shock her, spouting crappy poetry. Her “yuck” is very elaborate, and then she advises him about his future career: “try to write something beautiful.”
I am struck by the anger. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, as I have noticed it for about the past decade or more in other aspects of life too, there’s plenty on NPR and Fox News. Whether the media is influencing the culture or vice versa, I don’t know. But there are too many hateful lyrics in songs, too much sarcastic dialogue on television sit-coms, too much shouting in cable news. Sure, it’s all part of our rights, and it’s good to express thoughts and have dialogue. There is something exciting about communication, and how it has changed, and at the same time remained the same. (See yesterday's entry.) Personally, though, I am sick of loud, ignorant people on the so-called left and right. To me, this isn’t art, or even news.
Certainly there are way too many angry drivers on the road; this became more apparent in my quest to get a license. So I gave up. I think I’m just not mad enough to drive. Sometimes I click randomly at weblogs.com; I like the recently updated list because it isn’t sensitive to popularity. I find interesting things this way, often a lot more interesting than the usual suspects. But I find anger too. Do people only feel inspired when they are upset about something? Are they just spoiled? Or is being happy out of fashion?
A few days ago I was listening to the NPR station. Local commentator Paul Elisha was so angry I had to stop and take note, instead of tuning it out or turning it off, as I usually do when my private thoughts are more interesting than the speaker. Sparked by a pro-life rally in Washington, he argued in an editorial even more irrational than what’s now commonplace that abortion opponents are responsible for - well, just about every negative policy and belief in society you can name. One that comes to mind that made no sense at all was environmental destruction. I was speechless; too bad I can’t say the same for Mr. Elisha. At that moment, I resolved to never make a donation to the station again. We’ve never given huge sums but we do listen and enjoy some of the programming. We have contributed here and there during fund drives. So another place will benefit instead. My favorite charity - the Mohawk and Hudson River Humane Society - is more worthy anyway.
Part of the "shouting" problem may be the whole millennium idea; that people become obsessed with doomsday logic when centuries change - Y2K being even more scary. And there may be a tinge of the fear of death; the majority cannot imagine that times before, or after their own lives mattered as much. It is an unthinkable concept, that life goes on - do we matter?
Back to the Internet diaries, the whole idea of an A-list surprised me. That isn’t something I predicted. Again, I don’t know why, because why should the electronic world be immune to petty cliques and mob mentality? It’s only another social grouping, albeit using modern tools. Sometimes I amuse myself by thinking of the whole A-list concept, that I suppose it is payback time in a way. Seems to me that there are a lot of ejournalists who are or were geeks or nerds or whatever label is appropriate. Former dot-commers who now have a lot of time on their hands. Some consider themselves writers (which I mistakenly assumed would be the majority when I started) but many do not.
I think 90% of nerds probably were wishing to be included with the popular kids in high school, if only they had better clothes, cooler parents, a car and maybe tweezed eyebrows and a few less zits. They really weren’t above all that, most were as shallow as the jocks, they just had better grades. So now they are empowered by a keyboard, and well, it could be that aging has been kind (if not there’s always Photoshop). I'm not exempting myself from the nerd label by the way, although the truth is I've always been closer to that vast group that occupies the unremarkable middle, in spite of my being fairly studious. And not once have I wished to join a clique.
I'm still not sure about self-censoring, and how much is a good idea. The public nature of ejournaling makes that question even more complicated. I'm also not certain if the time it will take me to write here frequently would be better spent writing short stories, query letters and working on a book. As long as I remain productive, I have always thought journal writing is good practice, keeps the words flowing, and encourages more writing. So it will be important for me to keep track of whether that is true.
Another surprise, and my final thought on the year (at least for now), is that I believe I received more feedback when I sent essays via email to a group I called “test readers.” But using that method there were no anonymous visitors from Google. I dug out a bound journal that I bought at Borders & Books last year and have started to do a bit of writing in that, too. I guess some things lend themselves to paper.
Oh! My sister, maker of Annie McSpirit soap, has many talents. She sells some of the folk art she makes on ebay. Lucindy is one of her more ambitious pieces (I think the link won't work after the auction ends on March 6).
It has been an interesting year. I get occasional emails from folks who stumble here. The majority are genealogy inquiries. Among the non-genealogical, the one that stands out was from Officer David Lim, because of my story about Sirius.
There are so many electronic journals on the Internet, and more now than a year ago. It is hard to make generalizations about something so huge. In fact, that's about all one can say with certainty. But why should that prevent me from elaborating?
I’ve exceeded my expectations, in terms of maintaining the online journal. When paper journaling, I’ve always had gaps of weeks or months where I put it aside and didn’t write anything. That hasn’t happened here. But I do think, for the next year, I will make an effort to write almost every day, rather than once per week, which was my original goal. I update the remainder of my Gully Brook Press website, namely the newsletter and virtual museum, every other month, and so far that seems to be working. Originally I had planned on once per month, but I couldn't manage it. I think the March-April 2003 focus will be on historic preservation.
My ideas about electronic journaling have evolved, but some of my early impressions contained a bit of truth, too. There is an aspect that I noted early on, this is just another forum of ignorance, the kind of thing that makes me turn off the radio and television, that leads to flames on discussion boards, the sort of reasoning that I struggle to get students not to embrace. There are too many psuedo-journalism rants and not enough well-crafted writing. Everyone’s a commentator. I am reminded of a line of Kathleen Turner’s in “Peggy Sue Got Married;” she was under the stars with the rebel from high school, and he was showing off, trying to shock her, spouting crappy poetry. Her “yuck” is very elaborate, and then she advises him about his future career: “try to write something beautiful.”
I am struck by the anger. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, as I have noticed it for about the past decade or more in other aspects of life too, there’s plenty on NPR and Fox News. Whether the media is influencing the culture or vice versa, I don’t know. But there are too many hateful lyrics in songs, too much sarcastic dialogue on television sit-coms, too much shouting in cable news. Sure, it’s all part of our rights, and it’s good to express thoughts and have dialogue. There is something exciting about communication, and how it has changed, and at the same time remained the same. (See yesterday's entry.) Personally, though, I am sick of loud, ignorant people on the so-called left and right. To me, this isn’t art, or even news.
Certainly there are way too many angry drivers on the road; this became more apparent in my quest to get a license. So I gave up. I think I’m just not mad enough to drive. Sometimes I click randomly at weblogs.com; I like the recently updated list because it isn’t sensitive to popularity. I find interesting things this way, often a lot more interesting than the usual suspects. But I find anger too. Do people only feel inspired when they are upset about something? Are they just spoiled? Or is being happy out of fashion?
A few days ago I was listening to the NPR station. Local commentator Paul Elisha was so angry I had to stop and take note, instead of tuning it out or turning it off, as I usually do when my private thoughts are more interesting than the speaker. Sparked by a pro-life rally in Washington, he argued in an editorial even more irrational than what’s now commonplace that abortion opponents are responsible for - well, just about every negative policy and belief in society you can name. One that comes to mind that made no sense at all was environmental destruction. I was speechless; too bad I can’t say the same for Mr. Elisha. At that moment, I resolved to never make a donation to the station again. We’ve never given huge sums but we do listen and enjoy some of the programming. We have contributed here and there during fund drives. So another place will benefit instead. My favorite charity - the Mohawk and Hudson River Humane Society - is more worthy anyway.
Part of the "shouting" problem may be the whole millennium idea; that people become obsessed with doomsday logic when centuries change - Y2K being even more scary. And there may be a tinge of the fear of death; the majority cannot imagine that times before, or after their own lives mattered as much. It is an unthinkable concept, that life goes on - do we matter?
Back to the Internet diaries, the whole idea of an A-list surprised me. That isn’t something I predicted. Again, I don’t know why, because why should the electronic world be immune to petty cliques and mob mentality? It’s only another social grouping, albeit using modern tools. Sometimes I amuse myself by thinking of the whole A-list concept, that I suppose it is payback time in a way. Seems to me that there are a lot of ejournalists who are or were geeks or nerds or whatever label is appropriate. Former dot-commers who now have a lot of time on their hands. Some consider themselves writers (which I mistakenly assumed would be the majority when I started) but many do not.
I think 90% of nerds probably were wishing to be included with the popular kids in high school, if only they had better clothes, cooler parents, a car and maybe tweezed eyebrows and a few less zits. They really weren’t above all that, most were as shallow as the jocks, they just had better grades. So now they are empowered by a keyboard, and well, it could be that aging has been kind (if not there’s always Photoshop). I'm not exempting myself from the nerd label by the way, although the truth is I've always been closer to that vast group that occupies the unremarkable middle, in spite of my being fairly studious. And not once have I wished to join a clique.
I'm still not sure about self-censoring, and how much is a good idea. The public nature of ejournaling makes that question even more complicated. I'm also not certain if the time it will take me to write here frequently would be better spent writing short stories, query letters and working on a book. As long as I remain productive, I have always thought journal writing is good practice, keeps the words flowing, and encourages more writing. So it will be important for me to keep track of whether that is true.
Another surprise, and my final thought on the year (at least for now), is that I believe I received more feedback when I sent essays via email to a group I called “test readers.” But using that method there were no anonymous visitors from Google. I dug out a bound journal that I bought at Borders & Books last year and have started to do a bit of writing in that, too. I guess some things lend themselves to paper.
Oh! My sister, maker of Annie McSpirit soap, has many talents. She sells some of the folk art she makes on ebay. Lucindy is one of her more ambitious pieces (I think the link won't work after the auction ends on March 6).
Wednesday, February 26, 2003
Here I am reading a book of letters written by a Civil War soldier in 1863-65, fast forward to 2003 and this link, Lt. Smash, also written by a soldier. Wow. Sometimes the Internet still amazes me!
Monday, February 24, 2003
I finished The Blind Assassin a few days ago. Margaret Atwood's books are a little strange, but she is such a good writer. Also versatile. She may be my favorite contemporary author of fiction? Changing genres, I am now reading A War to Petrify the Heart, which is a collection of Civil War letters written by Richard Van Wyck, a soldier from Dutchess County, New York. I am up to just after the Battle of Gettysburg. Next up is the Delaney sisters' Having Our Say.
This is clever. (Thanks for the link, L.) There is a simple reason it works, but it is more fun not to know.
Sunday, February 23, 2003
The proposal is ready to be mailed. I can't identify how I feel, but it's neither optimistic nor pessimistic. I've been working on this for so long I guess I think wait and see, afraid to go too much in either direction.
We saw The Hours yesterday. I'm not sure whether I liked it. I guess I did, but maybe I'm not sure how much I liked it? It was a complex movie. The acting was great. The story was very interesting. Also sad, and I don't know whether it really added up. It was kind of Hollywood. What I mean is, as you watch it, you just know everyone will gush over it, it had all the necessary ingredients. American Beauty was like that too. Quality movies, but definitely not at all indie. Something that bothered me: it is a story that focused so much on women - and to me it was obvious it was written by a man. I'm not saying that a man can't write about women and do a good job, but there seemed to be something missing from this story. I was left thinking, this won the Pulitzer? Maybe the book was a lot better? Why not make something actually written by Virginia Woolf into a movie instead? Kind of ironic.
Part of my mood afterwards was influenced by going to a newish bar, Mad River, for a late lunch. I'd tried to go there three times before, each time unsuccessfully. The first time, for lunch, it was 11 am, they didn't have their act together and were very rude, so I ate across the street. The second time, about dinner time, there had just been a fender bender in front of the building, one of the involved parties was shouting the f-word and a variety of other obscenities, and it seemed like a good idea to go elsewhere. The third time, later at night, it was so packed there was no getting inside. Yesterday, we went to a matinee, then to Mad River. It wasn't crowded, several men were at the bar, and a couple of tables in the back were occupied.
Although completely renovated before it opened, the place had a look that said it would be better served by it being late at night and dark; a place where people do shots, smoke packs of cigarettes, talk in loud voices, and throw up in the bathroom. At one of the tables, there were three women and a little boy maybe 7 or 8 years old. At first I figured they were having lunch and a quick drink, but as our meal progressed, it became apparent that they were starting the night of drinking. They were very made up, hair permed and dyed, wearing evening clothes, drinking multiple rounds of Cosmopolitans. One had a shiner. I couldn't estimate ages - maybe around my age, maybe younger but showing wear. The snippets of conversation I could overhear surrounded vacations, partying, and passing out. I wondered if they had been home, or if this was merely a continuation of the night before. The only food consumed was one order of cheese sticks that they shared. I used the bathroom after one of the three women and was greeted by a thick cloud of perfume. The bathroom decor said recent, but it was already beat up, the door wouldn't lock, and there were scuff marks all over the door, I assume from using one foot to hold it shut.
They were still there drinking when we left. The depressing scene reminded me of my ex-friend, alcoholic D., in the days when she made the rounds. And the image of that poor boy, squirming in his chair, was with me all night. The kid had obviously spent many a night in bars.
We saw The Hours yesterday. I'm not sure whether I liked it. I guess I did, but maybe I'm not sure how much I liked it? It was a complex movie. The acting was great. The story was very interesting. Also sad, and I don't know whether it really added up. It was kind of Hollywood. What I mean is, as you watch it, you just know everyone will gush over it, it had all the necessary ingredients. American Beauty was like that too. Quality movies, but definitely not at all indie. Something that bothered me: it is a story that focused so much on women - and to me it was obvious it was written by a man. I'm not saying that a man can't write about women and do a good job, but there seemed to be something missing from this story. I was left thinking, this won the Pulitzer? Maybe the book was a lot better? Why not make something actually written by Virginia Woolf into a movie instead? Kind of ironic.
Part of my mood afterwards was influenced by going to a newish bar, Mad River, for a late lunch. I'd tried to go there three times before, each time unsuccessfully. The first time, for lunch, it was 11 am, they didn't have their act together and were very rude, so I ate across the street. The second time, about dinner time, there had just been a fender bender in front of the building, one of the involved parties was shouting the f-word and a variety of other obscenities, and it seemed like a good idea to go elsewhere. The third time, later at night, it was so packed there was no getting inside. Yesterday, we went to a matinee, then to Mad River. It wasn't crowded, several men were at the bar, and a couple of tables in the back were occupied.
Although completely renovated before it opened, the place had a look that said it would be better served by it being late at night and dark; a place where people do shots, smoke packs of cigarettes, talk in loud voices, and throw up in the bathroom. At one of the tables, there were three women and a little boy maybe 7 or 8 years old. At first I figured they were having lunch and a quick drink, but as our meal progressed, it became apparent that they were starting the night of drinking. They were very made up, hair permed and dyed, wearing evening clothes, drinking multiple rounds of Cosmopolitans. One had a shiner. I couldn't estimate ages - maybe around my age, maybe younger but showing wear. The snippets of conversation I could overhear surrounded vacations, partying, and passing out. I wondered if they had been home, or if this was merely a continuation of the night before. The only food consumed was one order of cheese sticks that they shared. I used the bathroom after one of the three women and was greeted by a thick cloud of perfume. The bathroom decor said recent, but it was already beat up, the door wouldn't lock, and there were scuff marks all over the door, I assume from using one foot to hold it shut.
They were still there drinking when we left. The depressing scene reminded me of my ex-friend, alcoholic D., in the days when she made the rounds. And the image of that poor boy, squirming in his chair, was with me all night. The kid had obviously spent many a night in bars.
Thursday, February 20, 2003
Sophie is recovered, and I can put away the benedryl. It was caused by Mountain Fresh scent Tide! After the new washing machine was installed, we washed her futon, also several blankets. She's always either in the living room, on the couch wrapped in a blanket, or in the kitchen laying on her futon. Not a real active dog! I prefer Arm & Hammer laundry soap, but Bob likes Tide - so we usually have a jug of each around. Generally though we have the unscented varieties, since I am somewhat sensitive to perfumes and dyes. But not this time. So I re-washed everything in unscented Arm & Hammer. She still has some large scabby patches from where she scratched herself raw.
Tuesday, February 18, 2003
For only the second time in memory, classes were cancelled today (boo hoo). And it is looking like no Tuesday Too again. So lots of things about animals today. (Also, I am now on the mend after feeling really miserable from running a 101 degree temperature. Oh, the new washer arrived pre-latest-snow.)
Since last evening, Sophie is having a terrible allergic reaction. More than her usual summer rashes, she is covered with dime-sized hives, and she's miserable. She can't sit still, and she spends her time crying/howling. She's on benedryl, and I guess it is helping, but not enough. I have no idea what is causing it, last time she had a reaction this bad it was to a bee sting - and bees, or really all bugs, are just a dim memory right now. Poor special needs hound. If she isn't better by tomorrow, I guess she'll have to go to the vet.
There is now so much snow that my fence looks like it is 12" high. I'll have to watch Rudy, because if we get an icy coating on what this last storm left, he'll be able to hop over it easily.
And in other news, Edna puked right on the bed yesterday.
Finally, I saw something in yesterday's paper that really, really irritated me. It was in both the New York Times and the Albany Times Union. Someone at the NYC anti-war protest on Saturday punched a police horse in the face. I can't think of a thing that would excuse such behavior. I hope the guilty party is held accountable as if assaulting a human police officer, because I doubt the infraction rises to the level of the Buster Law (and even if it did, that is never enough punishment anyway). In fact, generally I oppose the death penalty, but for this particular offense, I'll have to make an exception. (And in case you're wondering, I'm almost serious.)
Since last evening, Sophie is having a terrible allergic reaction. More than her usual summer rashes, she is covered with dime-sized hives, and she's miserable. She can't sit still, and she spends her time crying/howling. She's on benedryl, and I guess it is helping, but not enough. I have no idea what is causing it, last time she had a reaction this bad it was to a bee sting - and bees, or really all bugs, are just a dim memory right now. Poor special needs hound. If she isn't better by tomorrow, I guess she'll have to go to the vet.
There is now so much snow that my fence looks like it is 12" high. I'll have to watch Rudy, because if we get an icy coating on what this last storm left, he'll be able to hop over it easily.
And in other news, Edna puked right on the bed yesterday.
Finally, I saw something in yesterday's paper that really, really irritated me. It was in both the New York Times and the Albany Times Union. Someone at the NYC anti-war protest on Saturday punched a police horse in the face. I can't think of a thing that would excuse such behavior. I hope the guilty party is held accountable as if assaulting a human police officer, because I doubt the infraction rises to the level of the Buster Law (and even if it did, that is never enough punishment anyway). In fact, generally I oppose the death penalty, but for this particular offense, I'll have to make an exception. (And in case you're wondering, I'm almost serious.)
Friday, February 14, 2003
Thursday, February 13, 2003
Sya has a fun link called Castle Arcana.
I think I am getting a cold. Ugh. One really great thing about teaching exclusively online is that there is no exposure to the hot bed of diseases running rampant on campus. This is the second semester I have been on campus - and just once per week! - and this will be my second cold. It's no wonder, the students are sneezing and coughing all over the place. And probably handing me contaminated papers. Before last semester's, I can't remember the last cold I had. I have not quite given up hope that the symptoms are merely a reaction to the brutal cold temperatures and dryness of the air, but that possibility is dimming. I am trying to overdose on zinc and Vitamin C. I also have a pot of turkey soup brewing. And a cup of ginger-lemon tea.
I think I am getting a cold. Ugh. One really great thing about teaching exclusively online is that there is no exposure to the hot bed of diseases running rampant on campus. This is the second semester I have been on campus - and just once per week! - and this will be my second cold. It's no wonder, the students are sneezing and coughing all over the place. And probably handing me contaminated papers. Before last semester's, I can't remember the last cold I had. I have not quite given up hope that the symptoms are merely a reaction to the brutal cold temperatures and dryness of the air, but that possibility is dimming. I am trying to overdose on zinc and Vitamin C. I also have a pot of turkey soup brewing. And a cup of ginger-lemon tea.
Wednesday, February 12, 2003
Myrtle McSpirit
SCHENECTADY Myrtle McSpirit, 98, died Saturday, February 8, 2003 at Kingsway Arms Nursing Center where she had resided since 1975. A former resident of Albany, she had worked as a seamstress and as a factory worker in a bottling plant. She had no known surviving relatives. A service will be held 11 a.m. Wednesday, February 12, 2003 at Zwack & Sons, 633 Central Ave., Albany. Interment will follow in Albany Rural Cemetery, Menands. (Copied from the Albany Times Union, February 11, 2003)
Yesterday a new Chronicle of Higher Education came in the mail, and the cover story about disposing of old computers caught my eye. I thought it would make a good basis for a journal entry. But Myrtle McSpirit got in the way. I couldn't wait for Blogger; I whipped out my bound green volume (where I cheat on the ejournal) to scribble my thoughts on paper. Sometimes typing isn't quite the same.
I'd seen Myrtle's obituary in the paper yesterday, and I decided I would look up that name in Mimmie's genealogy notes. I vaguely remembered that Mimmie's brother had moved to Albany, and that Myrtle was his wife's name. I thought, after I confirm this, I'll send the obituary to my mother. And isn't it interesting, if Mimmie was living she would be 98, so she was the same age as her half-brother's wife.
As I re-read the death notice, it struck me: how sad. Not that 98 years is anything but a good long life, but the part about no living relatives, and the fact that the obituary was so brief, with no mention of Myrtle's mother and father, husband or daughter. Or even her birth date. Others on the obituary page have lengthy columns, mentions of churches attended, club memberships, hobbies, colleges degrees, names of beloved pets. And then there's Myrtle's: no relatives, she worked as a seamstress and as a factory worker in a bottling plant, and she spent the past 28 years in a nursing home.
I remembered the trip to St. Ann's Cemetery, sparked by finding Mimmie's genealogy notebook and by my sister's trip to Ireland, and the markerless graves. I had a good thought for my query, which must have arrived at the publisher by now. There are too many books and page-long obituaries on the Marilyn Monroes and Eleanor Roosevelts (though I mean no disrespect to either), and too few on the Mimmies and Myrtles of this world. I don't know a lot more than the obituary, but here is what I found in Mimmie's notes: Myrtle's husband was Lawrence McSpirit, who drowned in the Hudson River and is buried in Albany. Their daughter's name was also Myrtle.
SCHENECTADY Myrtle McSpirit, 98, died Saturday, February 8, 2003 at Kingsway Arms Nursing Center where she had resided since 1975. A former resident of Albany, she had worked as a seamstress and as a factory worker in a bottling plant. She had no known surviving relatives. A service will be held 11 a.m. Wednesday, February 12, 2003 at Zwack & Sons, 633 Central Ave., Albany. Interment will follow in Albany Rural Cemetery, Menands. (Copied from the Albany Times Union, February 11, 2003)
Yesterday a new Chronicle of Higher Education came in the mail, and the cover story about disposing of old computers caught my eye. I thought it would make a good basis for a journal entry. But Myrtle McSpirit got in the way. I couldn't wait for Blogger; I whipped out my bound green volume (where I cheat on the ejournal) to scribble my thoughts on paper. Sometimes typing isn't quite the same.
I'd seen Myrtle's obituary in the paper yesterday, and I decided I would look up that name in Mimmie's genealogy notes. I vaguely remembered that Mimmie's brother had moved to Albany, and that Myrtle was his wife's name. I thought, after I confirm this, I'll send the obituary to my mother. And isn't it interesting, if Mimmie was living she would be 98, so she was the same age as her half-brother's wife.
As I re-read the death notice, it struck me: how sad. Not that 98 years is anything but a good long life, but the part about no living relatives, and the fact that the obituary was so brief, with no mention of Myrtle's mother and father, husband or daughter. Or even her birth date. Others on the obituary page have lengthy columns, mentions of churches attended, club memberships, hobbies, colleges degrees, names of beloved pets. And then there's Myrtle's: no relatives, she worked as a seamstress and as a factory worker in a bottling plant, and she spent the past 28 years in a nursing home.
I remembered the trip to St. Ann's Cemetery, sparked by finding Mimmie's genealogy notebook and by my sister's trip to Ireland, and the markerless graves. I had a good thought for my query, which must have arrived at the publisher by now. There are too many books and page-long obituaries on the Marilyn Monroes and Eleanor Roosevelts (though I mean no disrespect to either), and too few on the Mimmies and Myrtles of this world. I don't know a lot more than the obituary, but here is what I found in Mimmie's notes: Myrtle's husband was Lawrence McSpirit, who drowned in the Hudson River and is buried in Albany. Their daughter's name was also Myrtle.
Saturday, February 08, 2003
Here is a link to The Technology Revolution: An Interview With Frank Newman from Vision. (Thanks to David for the pointer; it is a good read.) More than a decade ago, either when I was in the master's degree program or shortly after graduation, I did some contract typing work. The university's chancellor knew someone who was doing research on higher education and he interviewed several noted scholars. I transcribed interviews, and as I recall one was with Frank Newman. I am thinking I have it on a diskette or the hard-drive of a relic somewhere. Or maybe I just kept a print-out. Yet another benefit of being a packrat (but does that outweigh having to walk around boxes?). I may try to locate it, although I can't use or share it, since it really isn't mine, but just for my own information. I remember it was very, very interesting.
Two websites that are great links for online learning:
Only A Teacher (from PBS)
Unchained Memories: Readings from the Slave Narratives (from HBO)
I think the washing machine died. I suspected it was on its way out for a while. But then it has been living on borrowed time for eight years. That's the last time it broke, when Bob was in graduate school (do I always have to measure things in student intervals? Another option for marking time is by death date. I'll think, "Howie [my pre-Rudy dog, a precious, grumpy, super-smart beagle/schnauzer] was alive. So it must have been eight years ago").
My father came up and fixed it then. I'm not sure if it is really broken this time, or if it is a belt or something minor like that. The problem is the same as in 1995, it won't spin. That time, though, it shut off after it tried to switch to spin. This time it runs for the entire cycle, it just isn't spinning. We probably will have to get a new one, since it is 16 years old and what, today, lasts even that long? I am wondering how we, or rather the delivery people, will get a new machine into the house. There are high snowbanks, a thick snow and ice blanket covering steps and the yard, and a gate to the fence that is probably frozen shut.
I wrung out the wet clothes by hand. Not a pleasant or easy task, and my hands got very cold. That was yesterday. Today, I ran another load through, a light one, just so I could watch and see exactly what happens. Sounds OK, water fills and drains, but it doesn't spin. Wrung out yet another washer full. Thought of Cherry Hill, where we had a special exhibit a couple of years ago on laundry that fascinated me and the visitors. Doing laundry was a big drudgery for women in the past. (Despite the technological improvements, and men who lend a hand, sometimes I think it still is.) Even families who weren't wealthy often had help with laundry because it was such a chore. This provided a much-needed and legitimate job for many poor and/or immigrant women. And it was something of a social time, everyone did their washing and ironing on the same two days every week - and visited outside as they dumped water and completed the back-breaking task. The invention of the washing machine was certainly labor saving - but it also meant laundry remained in the home, rather than being a service performed by a business.
I thought of Mimmie, who at times took in laundry, and years later, still had a wringer washer at the old house. It was a big round white tub, with legs on casters. She dragged it across the room to hook it up to the faucet of her kitchen sink. In my mind's eye I see her, feeding one piece of clothing at at time through the wringer. It generally took several passes before it was good enough to be hung on the line. Each piece came out flat as a pancake.
I sure wished I had that wringer today.
Two websites that are great links for online learning:
Only A Teacher (from PBS)
Unchained Memories: Readings from the Slave Narratives (from HBO)
I think the washing machine died. I suspected it was on its way out for a while. But then it has been living on borrowed time for eight years. That's the last time it broke, when Bob was in graduate school (do I always have to measure things in student intervals? Another option for marking time is by death date. I'll think, "Howie [my pre-Rudy dog, a precious, grumpy, super-smart beagle/schnauzer] was alive. So it must have been eight years ago").
My father came up and fixed it then. I'm not sure if it is really broken this time, or if it is a belt or something minor like that. The problem is the same as in 1995, it won't spin. That time, though, it shut off after it tried to switch to spin. This time it runs for the entire cycle, it just isn't spinning. We probably will have to get a new one, since it is 16 years old and what, today, lasts even that long? I am wondering how we, or rather the delivery people, will get a new machine into the house. There are high snowbanks, a thick snow and ice blanket covering steps and the yard, and a gate to the fence that is probably frozen shut.
I wrung out the wet clothes by hand. Not a pleasant or easy task, and my hands got very cold. That was yesterday. Today, I ran another load through, a light one, just so I could watch and see exactly what happens. Sounds OK, water fills and drains, but it doesn't spin. Wrung out yet another washer full. Thought of Cherry Hill, where we had a special exhibit a couple of years ago on laundry that fascinated me and the visitors. Doing laundry was a big drudgery for women in the past. (Despite the technological improvements, and men who lend a hand, sometimes I think it still is.) Even families who weren't wealthy often had help with laundry because it was such a chore. This provided a much-needed and legitimate job for many poor and/or immigrant women. And it was something of a social time, everyone did their washing and ironing on the same two days every week - and visited outside as they dumped water and completed the back-breaking task. The invention of the washing machine was certainly labor saving - but it also meant laundry remained in the home, rather than being a service performed by a business.
I thought of Mimmie, who at times took in laundry, and years later, still had a wringer washer at the old house. It was a big round white tub, with legs on casters. She dragged it across the room to hook it up to the faucet of her kitchen sink. In my mind's eye I see her, feeding one piece of clothing at at time through the wringer. It generally took several passes before it was good enough to be hung on the line. Each piece came out flat as a pancake.
I sure wished I had that wringer today.
Friday, February 07, 2003
I just spent too many hours tinkering with my computers so that I'd have close to the same level of functionality as before networking. I am at about 90% right now. There is always one more thing to buy, the computer habit sure isn't cheap. Connect the fax, check. Test it. Hide the wire somewhere. Upgrade Adobe Photoshop, check. Undo some big, scary problems with my online course, check. Forget sharing that particular file, local copies will be fine.
Next time I do something this drastic I will wait until summer; intercession is not long enough. Technical support for my out-of-warranty printer cost $25, and after paying I was sent to hold never-never land. The musak was so irritating I eventually hung up and figured out a solution myself. Either all the people who work there were in junior high when my printer was manufactured, or this is standard company policy. Collect the fee, transfer the call, snap on the musak, bye-bye.
I should be working on my classes - grading essays, preparing lectures, entering data in my evaluation spreadsheets. Or working on the Mimmie book, or making an effort to clean in preparation for Ma, Daddy and Hobo visiting on Sunday. Or even reading some of the wonderful books I have in progress (two are a book of Civil War letters courtesy of Black Dome Press, and The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood.) I have a a few things taped - the kinds of programs Bob doesn't enjoy (and he mostly controls the TV, since he has a much stronger affection for it than I do), but instead I am snaking cables around furniture and hiding them behind plants. If ever I needed a reminder, this is it. I don't miss those days of computer support at all. Although these tasks are a handy way to procrastinate, I suppose. UPS just brought the enhanced keyboard, time to add a new item to the list.
Next time I do something this drastic I will wait until summer; intercession is not long enough. Technical support for my out-of-warranty printer cost $25, and after paying I was sent to hold never-never land. The musak was so irritating I eventually hung up and figured out a solution myself. Either all the people who work there were in junior high when my printer was manufactured, or this is standard company policy. Collect the fee, transfer the call, snap on the musak, bye-bye.
I should be working on my classes - grading essays, preparing lectures, entering data in my evaluation spreadsheets. Or working on the Mimmie book, or making an effort to clean in preparation for Ma, Daddy and Hobo visiting on Sunday. Or even reading some of the wonderful books I have in progress (two are a book of Civil War letters courtesy of Black Dome Press, and The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood.) I have a a few things taped - the kinds of programs Bob doesn't enjoy (and he mostly controls the TV, since he has a much stronger affection for it than I do), but instead I am snaking cables around furniture and hiding them behind plants. If ever I needed a reminder, this is it. I don't miss those days of computer support at all. Although these tasks are a handy way to procrastinate, I suppose. UPS just brought the enhanced keyboard, time to add a new item to the list.
Wednesday, February 05, 2003
Bob is headed to Florida to visit his folks. I am remembering with some discomfort the last time he flew somewhere without me; it was September 9, 2001 and he went to Baltimore.
Maybe because of the Columbia and the focus of this week's Tuesday Too, I am remembering that I was awakened on 9/11 by the telephone. My mother called to tell me "terrorists have attacked New York City." I switched on the television and sat on the coffee table right in front of it, only inches away, transfixed. I can't remember going downstairs to get coffee. Or even to pee. I sat there for hours, maybe it was all day. Swirling around somewhere in my mind was that Bob was flying home. Several hours passed before he could call to let me know that he was OK, and would manage to get home at some (unknown) point in some (unknown) way. Several hours seemed like several days. Even with that happy news my horror was not diminished. Still isn't.
Although it is I who has always had dogs, insists on having dogs, and I got our two dogs at the pound, only Edna, our cat, favors me. Both dogs that we have now prefer Bob. Rudy's sentiment is not overwhelming, though; he can be happy with just me around. Sophie, on the other hand, worships Bob. She is sitting on the couch right now, her eyes glued to the window, waiting for him to come home. She waits for him every day, starting at about 6 p.m. I wonder if she will sit there, patiently staring at the empty spot where his car is usually parked, until he returns on Monday. There is nothing sadder than a sad hound dog.
Today's Chronicle of Higher Education has a cover story about the University at Albany, SUNY. It is by Sara Hebel and is entitled, "If You Build It, They Will Come: How SUNY-Albany shocked the research world and reaped a bonanza worth $850-million (and counting)." It has to do with Sematech and nanoscience research. The Chronicle is a subscription site, and this story is not part of their free content. I am clueless about nanoscience, and I'm far from an advocate of growth, which I fear will lead to sprawl, and I consider that a major risk of economic boom. However, seeing the cover story focus on the University and Albany made me feel good about being associated with both places.
I've spent a lot of years in higher education, more than 10 as an administrator, about three as an instructor, 22 as an on and off student. 100% in the public sector, I might add. If I collected a dollar for every time someone sniffed about his or her pedigree (and by implication, my lack of), I could afford the tuition at - well, you can fill in the blank. X = prestigious private well-endowed institution of higher learning. Those places where the graduates and faculty are entitled. And yes, cut from a finer cloth. Certainly smarter than the daughters and sons of Joe and Mary Six-Pack, first-generation students at those provincial, remedial, non-global places, you know - Local CC or State U.
So yeah, it felt good to see the splash. That's my alma mater (so what if it isn't my specialty?). That's where I work (so what if it isn't my department?). Finally, an article about something besides budget cuts and party school status. Validation, at last. You see, all those wrinkled noses, raised eyebrows, and rigid pinkies have never seemed anything but dull. In the article, a Stanford University professor is quoted: "for a mediocre university to start thinking of doing research for industry is probably not the wisest idea." If saying such a thing to a reporter demonstrates brains, I guess tact is an attribute of stupid people. The article explains that SUNY officials shrug off the criticism as "sour grapes."
Well, I don't like to gloat, but yeah. This is real sweet.
Maybe because of the Columbia and the focus of this week's Tuesday Too, I am remembering that I was awakened on 9/11 by the telephone. My mother called to tell me "terrorists have attacked New York City." I switched on the television and sat on the coffee table right in front of it, only inches away, transfixed. I can't remember going downstairs to get coffee. Or even to pee. I sat there for hours, maybe it was all day. Swirling around somewhere in my mind was that Bob was flying home. Several hours passed before he could call to let me know that he was OK, and would manage to get home at some (unknown) point in some (unknown) way. Several hours seemed like several days. Even with that happy news my horror was not diminished. Still isn't.
Although it is I who has always had dogs, insists on having dogs, and I got our two dogs at the pound, only Edna, our cat, favors me. Both dogs that we have now prefer Bob. Rudy's sentiment is not overwhelming, though; he can be happy with just me around. Sophie, on the other hand, worships Bob. She is sitting on the couch right now, her eyes glued to the window, waiting for him to come home. She waits for him every day, starting at about 6 p.m. I wonder if she will sit there, patiently staring at the empty spot where his car is usually parked, until he returns on Monday. There is nothing sadder than a sad hound dog.
Today's Chronicle of Higher Education has a cover story about the University at Albany, SUNY. It is by Sara Hebel and is entitled, "If You Build It, They Will Come: How SUNY-Albany shocked the research world and reaped a bonanza worth $850-million (and counting)." It has to do with Sematech and nanoscience research. The Chronicle is a subscription site, and this story is not part of their free content. I am clueless about nanoscience, and I'm far from an advocate of growth, which I fear will lead to sprawl, and I consider that a major risk of economic boom. However, seeing the cover story focus on the University and Albany made me feel good about being associated with both places.
I've spent a lot of years in higher education, more than 10 as an administrator, about three as an instructor, 22 as an on and off student. 100% in the public sector, I might add. If I collected a dollar for every time someone sniffed about his or her pedigree (and by implication, my lack of), I could afford the tuition at - well, you can fill in the blank. X = prestigious private well-endowed institution of higher learning. Those places where the graduates and faculty are entitled. And yes, cut from a finer cloth. Certainly smarter than the daughters and sons of Joe and Mary Six-Pack, first-generation students at those provincial, remedial, non-global places, you know - Local CC or State U.
So yeah, it felt good to see the splash. That's my alma mater (so what if it isn't my specialty?). That's where I work (so what if it isn't my department?). Finally, an article about something besides budget cuts and party school status. Validation, at last. You see, all those wrinkled noses, raised eyebrows, and rigid pinkies have never seemed anything but dull. In the article, a Stanford University professor is quoted: "for a mediocre university to start thinking of doing research for industry is probably not the wisest idea." If saying such a thing to a reporter demonstrates brains, I guess tact is an attribute of stupid people. The article explains that SUNY officials shrug off the criticism as "sour grapes."
Well, I don't like to gloat, but yeah. This is real sweet.
Tuesday, February 04, 2003
Tuesday Too or Not?
Maybe it's because I don't have a Gary Larson calendar this year, or maybe it's because... Anyway, here are some things to ponder on. Oddly, perhaps ironically sya wrote about how/why people remember where they were, and what they were doing on historically momentous occasions such as the Challenger explosion on lift off in 1986, only days before the explosion of the shuttle on reentry. If you haven't already done so, tell us what you were doing, and how you found out what was happening? If you've already written about your reactions to the accident, point to that post.
See below.
Maybe it's because I don't have a Gary Larson calendar this year, or maybe it's because... Anyway, here are some things to ponder on. Oddly, perhaps ironically sya wrote about how/why people remember where they were, and what they were doing on historically momentous occasions such as the Challenger explosion on lift off in 1986, only days before the explosion of the shuttle on reentry. If you haven't already done so, tell us what you were doing, and how you found out what was happening? If you've already written about your reactions to the accident, point to that post.
See below.
Monday, February 03, 2003
Edna decided to venture outside for the first time in months. She gingerly placed her paws, one at a time, on top of the snow. Since it has been warmer for the past few days, Rudy and Sophie sometimes break through, but Edna is much lighter. She stood there, looked all around for about two minutes, then came back inside.
Bob asked, "did she see her shadow?"
We'll see.
Bob asked, "did she see her shadow?"
We'll see.
Happy Groundhog Day (yesterday, I guess, though for owls it was today).
Also Sophie's "made up" birthday, she is 4.
Oh, the groundhog saw its shadow. No surprise here.
Also Sophie's "made up" birthday, she is 4.
Oh, the groundhog saw its shadow. No surprise here.
Saturday, February 01, 2003
On the news today are constant reports of the fate of the space shuttle Columbia. I've never been a big space enthusiast, which is another of those things that makes me kind of provincial, I guess. I prefer to keep both feet firmly planted on Earth. But it's hard to look at those seven proud, smiling faces - all around my age - and not feel sadness and empathy, about both the loss of life, and the end of someone's dream. Maybe it was not my dream, but it was a grand dream, nonetheless, one that involved a lot of commitment and hard work. May they rest in peace.
Recently there has been much coverage of the Challenger tragedy because the anniversary just passed. I was thinking about what I was doing that day, and I remembered that I was working at the NYS Office for Aging. I was a clerk in the Budget Services office. Did I imagine that in 17 years I would be teaching at a college, and my PhD would be nearly three years old? Well, I guess it was a dream, but at that time it seemed almost unattainable. There was no television in the office, but we listened to the coverage on a colleague's radio. I remember how awful it seemed, a teacher waving goodbye minutes before the explosion. I thought of the many school children who were watching, how that horrific image would forever be etched into those kids' brains.
I was not quite 8 years old when we (allegedly, if you believe that Fox show from last year) landed on the moon. Space was a big focus in school. Now I know that was because of Sputnik, but I think another reason is that it did capture the imagination. I drew pictures of the event over and over again, cartoon images of Neil Armstrong jumping around near the lunar module. I used my sketch books, or sometimes those reusable palettes - they were made of a waxy black cardboard, with a filmy sheet attached, and you wrote with a red plastic stick, kind of like a pencil without lead. When you were done, you could erase it by ripping the film up. I can't remember what they were called, and I don't know if they are still sold.
But even considering the numerous pictures I drew, I wasn't as entranced with the space hoopla as many kids, either because even then I was provincial, or because I preferred English, history, art, and math over science (although I hasten to add that I much preferred science over gym).
Recently there has been much coverage of the Challenger tragedy because the anniversary just passed. I was thinking about what I was doing that day, and I remembered that I was working at the NYS Office for Aging. I was a clerk in the Budget Services office. Did I imagine that in 17 years I would be teaching at a college, and my PhD would be nearly three years old? Well, I guess it was a dream, but at that time it seemed almost unattainable. There was no television in the office, but we listened to the coverage on a colleague's radio. I remember how awful it seemed, a teacher waving goodbye minutes before the explosion. I thought of the many school children who were watching, how that horrific image would forever be etched into those kids' brains.
I was not quite 8 years old when we (allegedly, if you believe that Fox show from last year) landed on the moon. Space was a big focus in school. Now I know that was because of Sputnik, but I think another reason is that it did capture the imagination. I drew pictures of the event over and over again, cartoon images of Neil Armstrong jumping around near the lunar module. I used my sketch books, or sometimes those reusable palettes - they were made of a waxy black cardboard, with a filmy sheet attached, and you wrote with a red plastic stick, kind of like a pencil without lead. When you were done, you could erase it by ripping the film up. I can't remember what they were called, and I don't know if they are still sold.
But even considering the numerous pictures I drew, I wasn't as entranced with the space hoopla as many kids, either because even then I was provincial, or because I preferred English, history, art, and math over science (although I hasten to add that I much preferred science over gym).
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