Merry and Blessed Christmas and/or The Best of the Season …

to you, Dear Reader … dear friend … of this sporadic blog …

May we all find some peace in ourselves ..

And act from that goodness …

In our dealings with (and thoughts about) each other .

a thunderstorm right here … while i’m pretending i don’t have too much schoolwork to do … and i’m thinking about wrapping some stuff right now … and about how i should just turn everything off … or i should mix some new tunes for the trip …

the flight that was to arrive at 1:40 is now scheduled for 4:43 … no one should ever make plans … plans are not useful … hopeful … but not useful

is christmas coming … yes … but … it’s not about feeling good …

it’s about the short light & the long dark … a metaphorical star & the birth of hope … a savior falling into the middle of the muck …

rainy windows going on … maybe it’s this tiny little headache … maybe some other thing

stung myself on the pre-christmas paper glut … and chocolate … i just say “give me more paper to read, to grade, to pile up up” … more chocolate … and more words …

pedagogically & institutionally speaking … one must sometimes stop uncovering just to cover … so that one might remain on good terms … with the world roundabout …

still … one might take a moment to make an elf of oneself …

judging by the roof here at 5:37 a.m., we’ve got about six inches … more on the way … at some point i imagine i’ll be shovelling … a different substance today … catching the random loose ends of the school closing phone tree … then a pile of paper beckons …

that i might list all the people, events, and things in my life for which i am thankful comes to me … but i’m feeling as usual too lazy for that … so let me put it this way: if you & i have ever crossed paths … if we’ve ever had positive or even negative stuff between us … thanks … really … you’ve brought me here … and here is good … much better in fact than i ever expected … & i hope i’ve done the same (in large or small) for you … god bless you

so haitian tim guesses that meg is busy making food in the kitchen & i’m on the floor blogging … & that’s about 3/4s correct … i’m sitting on the far couch … the one that looks out toward the nice blue lake white birds naked tree tipsy gypsy bird feeder … and now we’re all sitting here … mom meg korie & me … waiting for the rest to arrive … maybe taylor … john marytherese & chuck (!!!) … mike &robin … beth & rihab (later after their own community feast) … a lovely small crowd … and good food … we got this organic turkey & meg says she was surprised to find - when she opened it - that the poor critter’s inner organs were actually like inner organs & not like the generic red goo of the usual industrial birds … go figure

Just as sorrow covets compassion, vanity craves praise.

this bit of contradicta … contradictum? …. by nick piombino … touches on one moment near the end of my day … a moment that has colored … tinted … tainted my mood ever since …

i’m not going to tell the story … but there was a moment this afternoon … an appeal to my vanity … i’d almost come to think i wasn’t vain … fool … there was praise i didn’t know i needed but it was discolored & lost … a mere ploy as my vanity saw it … and now this slow ember … anger … i’m disgruntled … at what could not have been couched more gently … but nonetheless couched without comfort … i always say “no one is more aware of my faults my flaws & gaping holes than i am” … i say it often … so why should i ever expect praise … vanity … feels it deserves … something … and there’s nothing i deserve … i know it now … the thinness of a thought a judgment about oneself … less than a hope really … a little wish to be the one i thought i was … and disappointment now to be bound to this … that i can’t just walk away … from it … vanity

don’t worry … i’m ok … but tired

one should not be online first thing in the morning … a monday morning after a sunday at school … we had our open house yesterday and we each had a job … mine was to sit with our illustrious department chair at a table in the cafeteria … beneath a plastic sign … ENGLISH … a first for me …

to sit and speak with any who wandered past … with any who had questions … there were a few … and our illustrious d. c. handled them affably while i contributed around the edges … drank a little coffee … processed a few student papers … sampled some dessert … and chatted with our illustrious d. c. …

and now it’s monday morning … and rain prevents a walk …

classes today … AP will have finished reading Twelfth Night and composed a question about it … AmLit will have read a short passage from Moby Dick and finished their response (channeling me) to a “parent letter” complaining about Poe’s place in the curriculum … but what … then what … something …

still raining … rising from the south

we celebrate the cat’s eighteen years today … but there’s no reason to get all sentimental about it & all … i mean really … she’s just a cat …

right

{update}
i know this is something of a cliche by now … probably in the top three of Most Famous Cat Poems … but I like it … and if i had the time i’d probably compose a parody on my own creature … but the actual will have to do for now …

For my Cat Jeoffrey

For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God duly and daily serving him.
For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way.
For is this done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness.
For then he leaps up to catch the musk, which is the blessing of God upon his prayer.
For he rolls upon prank to work it in.
For having done duty and received blessing he begins to consider himself.
For this he performs in ten degrees.
For first he looks upon his fore-paws to see if they are clean.
For secondly he kicks up behind to clear away there.
For thirdly he works it upon stretch with the fore-paws extended.
For fourthly he sharpens his paws by wood.
For fifthly he washes himself.
For Sixthly he rolls upon wash.
For Seventhly he fleas himself, that he may not be interrupted upon the beat.
For Eighthly he rubs himself against a post.
For Ninthly he looks up for his instructions.
For Tenthly he goes in quest of food.
For having consider’d God and himself he will consider his neighbour.
For if he meets another cat he will kiss her in kindness.
For when he takes his prey he plays with it to give it chance.
For one mouse in seven escapes by his dallying.
For when his day’s work is done his business more properly begins.
For he keeps the Lord’s watch in the night against the adversary.
For he counteracts the powers of darkness by his electrical skin and glaring eyes.
For he counteracts the Devil, who is death, by brisking about the life.
For in his morning orisons he loves the sun and the sun loves him.
For he is of the tribe of Tiger.
For the Cherub Cat is a term of the Angel Tiger.
For he has the subtlety and hissing of a serpent, which in goodness he suppresses.
For he will not do destruction, if he is well-fed, neither will he spit without provocation.
For he purrs in thankfulness, when God tells him he’s a good Cat.
For he is an instrument for the children to learn benevolence upon.
For every house is incompleat without him and a blessing is lacking in the spirit.
For the Lord commanded Moses concerning the cats at the departure of the Children of Israel from Egypt.
For every family had one cat at least in the bag.
For the English Cats are the best in Europe.
For he is the cleanest in the use of his fore-paws of any quadrupede.
For the dexterity of his defence is an instance of the love of God to him exceedingly.
For he is the quickest to his mark of any creature.
For he is tenacious of his point.
For he is a mixture of gravity and waggery.
For he knows that God is his Saviour.
For there is nothing sweeter than his peace when at rest.
For there is nothing brisker than his life when in motion.
For he is of the Lord’s poor and so indeed is he called by benevolence perpetually – Poor Jeoffry! poor Jeoffry! the rat has bit thy throat.
For I bless the name of the Lord Jesus that Jeoffry is better.
For the divine spirit comes about his body to sustain it in compleat cat.
For his tongue is exceeding pure so that it has in purity what it wants in musick.
For he is docile and can learn certain things.
For he can set up with gravity which is patience upon approbation.
For he can fetch and carry, which is patience in employment.
For he can jump over a stick which is patience upon proof positive.
For he can spraggle upon waggle at the word of command.
For he can jump from an eminence into his master’s bosom.
For he can catch the cork and toss it again.
For he is hated by the hypocrite and miser.
For the former is affraid of detection.
For the latter refuses the charge.
For he camels his back to bear the first notion of business.
For he is good to think on, if a man would express himself neatly,
For he made a great figure in Egypt for his signal services.
For he killed the Ichneumon-rat very pernicious by land.
For his ears are so acute that they sting again.
For from this proceeds the passing quickness of his attention.
For by stroaking of him I have found out electricity.
For I perceived God’s light about him both wax and fire.
For the Electrical fire is the spiritual substance, which God sends from heaven to sustain the bodies both of man and beast.
For God has blessed him in the variety of his movements.
For, though he cannot fly, he is an excellent clamberer.
For his motions upon the face of the earth are more than any other quadrupede.
For he can tread to all the measures upon the musick.
For he can swim for life.
For he can creep.

by Christopher Smart (from Jubilate Agno)

no walk this morning … the cat woke me up with a wild yowl about four … but the alarm was not set for the weekday … no matter … i needed the extra hour …

mass … dove into twelfth night act two with the seniors after wrwestling a bit with frye’s article … spent most time in trying to understand “the green world” … one of the loveliest of literary notions … the sophomores watched the 1928 the fall of the house of usher silent … expressionist … impresses (me) more with each viewing … not so sure about the sophs … well, yeah … they impress me more with each viewing, too …

forrest gander: “The human is the animal who lays-in meaning. The poem is a structure in which meanings resonate.”

i’m reading sophomore papers on “murders in the rue morgue” … i’m walking in a cold wind … i’m wondering about the origins of the hebrew language … i’m extending my arm and looking out the office window … i’m listening to a friend’s ridiculous notion … let the cat grade the papers … i’m pricked and bleed into a vial … i’m replying to a mother’s concern about her son’s discussion board grade … i’m thinking about the leaves on the roof and the drains … i’m opening boxes that came in the mail … more books! … i’m driving through grayslake all the way to hainesville waiting for the appointment … it’s semitic & afro-asiatic … i’m watching the maintenance crew pick up paper & garbage from last night’s game … they call out in spanish in english … i’m in walgreens for a bottle of water, some shoe polish, a cheap battery-driven pencil sharpener … it works swell … i’m on the phone with a sick but getting well friend … i think this should be stuck to my wall in constant view or recorded to shuffle up irregularly often to hear … i’m eating more of last night’s mostaccioli … i’m realizing i’ll never have time to read all these books … i’m watching a stupid will ferrell movie … i’m reading sadness … i’m reading the newspaper … i’m exploring podcasts from the k12 online conference and sending some links off to school colleagues … i’m brushing the cat … i’m reading more student papers … i’m thinking the garden needs some attention, some ripping out … i’m trying to spell mostaccioli … i’m thinking it’s fragile or tough … i’m brooding about a former student … i’m thinking life is a wicked joyful risky grim romp … and magic yes magic … take care … i’m considering the future in the form of tomorrow and the next day … i’m asking god to have mercy though i may not deserve it - the others do … i’m staring at something … no, it’s nothing …

one counts discussion board posts until the back of the neck rings up to say stop it you can’t do this anymore tonight … this … the last day and now night of the first quarter finds one … as usual … struggling to catch up in the little time left … there are some very good discussion board posts … and some very not so good ones too … these latter are disheartening and cause one to wonder … what should have been taught … and still can be … taught

i was out of school today in order to attend an ap workshop at marquette u …it was a worthwhile time … but i was feeling a little … detached … but there were good handouts and a worthy presenter … so it will take some time to process … but i’m still feeling a little … detached … afterwards i tried to find woodland pattern book center up on e. locust street … but the street construction around 43/94 through the city made navigation very difficult & i surrendered … but i was disheartened … because i was detached … and my gas was low

now i’m told that our football team just defeated jca … and that’s a good thing … because our football team had sadly & unexpectedly lost their last two games … disheartening … but now they have defeated jca … & that should help … somehow

seems i’ve been sleepwalking through the week … here’s thursday …

at school it’s been Spirit Week leading up to the homecoming game friday … and the homecoming dance saturday night … yesterday was Crazy Day & i wish i’d had my camera … some funny stuff … i did take one picture on a student’s camera, but haven’t see the results …

mindlessness: i didn’t realize we were having a school liturgy today until i found my “eucharistic minister assignment” in my mailbox … i made a mental note to attend the Mr. CHS contest last night & then promptly forgot about it … so wrapped up i was in counting sophomore posts …

at home it’s all eat … sleep … process student paper … count student discussion board posts … plan tomorrow’s class … brush the cat … scoop the poop … my only trips out have been to the physical therapist: dealing with the residuals of the kidney stone business … it’s getting better … the actual pain is … but the residual fear & expectation of the next episode lingers …

as i mentioned to one ap class today … when one student claimed not to be entertained at all by “Sonnet” by Michael Palmer … i said “but it entertains me … art … poetry … music & all are the only pleasant surprises in my day … i live such an utterly regular & predictable life … my joy comes from encounters with art (& with my students, of course)”

but i wasn’t sleepwalking this morning at six … radio said “it’s 33 degrees at o’hare” … so i piled on three t-shirts two sweatshirts a fleece vest and my thick knit hat … dominic, on the other hand, hadn’t tuned in … he had one sweatshirt, no hat … he handled one lap around the property & bailed … but i chugged on for two more … quite comfy …

during period B or C it started snowing … we were chasing down some intricate point about the sonnets when i turned my head & noticed a blizzard … thick snow & blowing … right there … october 12 … 9 something a.m. … snow

now … on to another reading of Othello act I …