Oh lordy - part 2, or Wait, you guys aren't freshmen

Did I tell you about the freaky teaching dream I had last week? The one where I totally lost control of the classroom and everyone walked out except for two people who stayed just to tell me I sucked? I thought I was about to have deja vu today.

Okay, it wasn't that bad. But my intro to poetry students are 1) not very enthusiastic and 2) sharp. I'm bummed about #1 and hoping I can turn it around and psyched about #2 but also intimidated. I was nervous and they looked bored. Not a good combination.

And since they're smart, they've probably found this blog and I probably shouldn't be writing about them. But what would I write about if not my fears of being an inadequate teacher?

Friday will be better. Cross my heart and hope to die.

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I'm not the new kid on campus anymore. I can't go anywhere without running in to someone from the English dept or a student. Sometimes I just want to be anonymous.

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Italian 101 update: the letter combination "ci" is pronounced with a ch sound. the letters "chi" are pronounced with a k sound. Are they just trying to confuse me? Our first listening exercise is due tomorrow and I'm guessing I failed miserably.

They say that introverts acquire language first through reading and writing, while extroverts acquire language through speaking and listening. If y'all hadn't noticed, I'm an introvert. It is driving me batshit crazy in class when the instructor doesn't give me 1/2 a second to think about what he's just said or written on the board. He says we learn from repetition, but I'm not really interested in parroting what he says when I have no idea what it means or how the grammar works. Apparently I'm going to have to teach myself Italian, just like I taught myself Math for Liberal Arts (yep, it's a real class) in college--which is to say I'll learn more from the text book than from the teacher.

Disclaimer: I'm not saying my Italian instructor is bad at his job. I think he's great, and I wouldn't be able to do what he does. But I don't learn the way he teaches. Most people do...so I just have to learn to compensate. Means I'll be spending a lot more time on my homework than I imagined.

I did learn something in class, though. If you ask me how my day was, I can say "un disastro." Yes, it's a cognate.

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This may somehow turn into the semester of Dante's Inferno. We'll be reading Pinksy's translation of it in workshop and I'm thinking about writing a paper about it for my lit class. This is a very unformed plan right now, but it could happen. Yes, I admit, I'm thinking ahead to exam lists.

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I haven't written a poem since I returned from Ohio. Good thing I have to turn in two next week.

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Is it really only Wednesday? I'm so ready for the weekend. Going to bed really early is not nearly as satisfying as sleeping in really late. The alarm is set for 5:30am. Ick.

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How'd I do on the spewing, R?

Oh lordy

Seriously? It's Tuesday. It's the second day of the first week of the semester and already I am overwhelmed, exhausted, and running behind.

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Italian 101: It's really weird taking a class that I could be teaching--you know, if it was in a different language. What I mean is this: the folks who are usually my students are now my classmates/groupmates/study partners. Weird.

Also weird: taking Italian when I have very rusty Spanish in my head. For example, how am I supposed to keep this straight? (The phrases below both mean "how do you say..."):

Spanish: como se dice (there should be accent marks in there somewhere)
Italian: come si dice

Pronunciation is the really hard part..."dice" in Spanish is dee-say (okay, my linguistics professors would be cringing at my phonetic spelling, but whatever) but in Italian, "dice" is pronounced dee-chay. How am I going to remember this? I'm so confused and it's only the first day!

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The first day of intro to poetry was uneventful. Tomorrow the students are bringing in their favorite poems. I'm very curious.

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What am I doing here? I have to do my Italian homework and answera million emails before the stolen wireless gods steal my connection.

Thursday & Friday's mini drafts

I'm trying, really I am. But this...it hardly even counts.

Day 16

poof


Day 17

poof

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See, I told you. Uninspired. My standards for what counts as a poem have plummeted.

I think I'm still 3 behind.

I'm also massively behind on my seminar papers (as usual). But I'm all caught up on my grading, and I'm done with my homework for Monday, so *hopefully* I'll get somewhere this weekend.

I wish someone would come over and do my dishes.

& my laundry.

And while I'm making wishes, if anyone wants to write me a check for $3000 so I don't have to work this summer, I'd be pretty okay with that, too.

a sense of urgency?

Despite the general discomfort of riding a bus, I love the trip between Cleveland and Chicago because of views like this one. The megabus is a double decker, so the perspective is totally different than in a car and I just can't get enough of it. It's hard to take good pictures, though...

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Anyway. I'm back in my teeny tiny studio after having spent 5 days with my parents in Chatham, hanging out with Mom, playing with Maxi, the river dog (who is in the jumping/biting phase of puppy-hood, which means my arms look like I've been through a shredder), and arguing with my dad about, well, everything. As you can tell from my earlier post, Dad's a republican, and he likes to watch the news. Now that the election/inaugruation is over, I've gone back to my general disinterest in politics, but when I'm around him, I remember why I cared so much about the election, and think maybe I should start paying more attention the rest of the time.

My time in Ohio was not in any way relaxing (despite the fact that I managed to get about 10 hours of sleep each night) because of all the errand running and trying to see folks I hadn't seen since August (apologies to anyone I missed! There's just never enough time!), and trying to keep up with my homework as well (also a major fail). But it was good, nonetheless, to be home, where places and faces are familiar and people know my history. Had a long talk with a prof who's known me since my undergrad days who gave me some really good advice on how to deal with my angst over my new program--and it was advice that someone who hasn't known me for 8 years wouldn't have been able to give, I don't think. Also spent one evening with my bff since 5th grade which was long, long over due.

But now I'm back. And strangely enough, feeling quite at home. I was oddly proud of myself last night for my ease in hailing a cab at Union Station, and also for knowing a couple of different ways to get home if I hadn't felt like taking a cab (but it was 11pm, cold, and I was dragging a giant suitcase, so I did feel like taking a cab). I'll never give up my self-identification as a country-bumpkin or small town girl, but I guess I'm getting pretty good at playing the part of a city girl when I need to. Everyone I saw in Ohio (who were, for the most part, people I hadn't seen since I moved) wanted to know if I liked Chicago...and I feel like a traitor to myself when I want to say yes. So here you go (esp. Brandi & Mary): I like Chicago. I get fed up with Chicago pretty quickly sometimes, but I get fed up with my parents and my sisters, too, and I would lay down in front of a CTA bus for them. I won't deny that the transition has been difficult--exhausting and soul-crushing at times, even--but I'm okay with where I'm at, finally. It only took seven months...

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And that brings me back to the present, and the impetus for this post's title. I made a tiny little dent in my gargantuan to do list for spring break, and now have less than 48 hours until I'm back on campus for Week 11. I don't think it's possible to conquer the to do list in that time, and I'm wondering when my sense of urgency is going to kick in. The problem is that a lot of what I planned to accomplish is based on my own deadlines, not deadlines that anyone will force me to meet. However...if I don't do these things now, they're just going to pile up, and when else am I going to have time? It's 9:24 on Saturday morning and already, I'm procrastinating (is it really necessary to write a blog post this long ever--let alone when I'm swamped?). Twilight is sitting on top of the pile of mail begging me to watch it (even though everyone says it's crap) and I'd really like to spend today lounging around...but class identity (paper 1) and neo-confessional poetry (if there is such a thing) (paper 2) and grading are all calling my name. Blah! I don't wanna.

So, trying right now, thisverysecond, to motivate myself to stop loafing in my pjs and go to the library (which, by the way, will be at least a 45 minute commute each way) to pick up a couple of key sources (one for each paper), which I then must force myself to read today so that tomorrow I can start my rough drafts. Or something like that. But I just poured a fresh cup of coffee.

Yep, still can't find that sense of urgency I'm looking for.

Poof

That post that just disappeared makes me giggle, but I thought perhaps it wasn't putting my best foot forward, you know? Eh, maybe I'm paranoid.

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Lots to do this week. Another short paper to write (hopefully not at the last minute), another set of papers to grade over the weekend, plus the usual reading and whatnot. I have no idea how I'm going to add writing two 20+ page papers to my already jammed schedule. Less sleep? Less going out (I only do it one, maybe two nights a week)? Less cooking, more takeout? Energy drinks? Less blogging (I hardly ever do that, either)? I don't know...

A friend and I were talking about priorities yesterday, and how we are not our old MFAish writer-selves in this new program. This friend has decided to let coursework drop down in importance so other, more writerly pursuits can have more time.

It seems like there's only two options: skip some of the weekly reading assignments to write, or write less and keep up with the reading. I have a really, really hard time with this. I came to grad school in the first place so that I could stop stealing time from other things for writing. But if I'm going to get my manuscript in the mail come May (my totally arbitrary goal), I need to make some time. If I'm going to do that Big Spring Submission I'm hoping to, I need to make some time. And on top of it all, I think both of the papers I'm supposed to be writing this semester could be a) conference presentations and / or b) the start of my exam lists--so they need some time and thought--not last minute, caffeine induced, muscle-cramping marathon writing sessions.

So: priorities. How to set them, how to stick to them. That's what I'm trying to figure out this week.

And discipline. Following a schedule. Being diligent. Just saying no.

In that spirit, since blogging is not one of my top priorities, I'm off to evaluate my to do list.

Break Time

I have been so busy lately--and not just "wow, there's a lot on my to do list, but I'm watching TV" busy--that I have gotten really bad at answering emails, updating my blog, etc. (So, if I owe you some sort of communication, please forgive me!) But I'm still really good at updating my facebook status. I'm taking a little break right now for dinner, but then it's back to Ashbery. I don't know what I've gotten myself into--I'm supposed to be coming up with a theory as to how his seemingly unrelated phrases and images work together to make meaning. Huh? I'm sooo not the scholar I pretend to be. The worst part is, if I bomb this, me and the prof won't be the only ones who know--I have to present this paper, conference style, to my whole class and whoever else decides to show up next Wednesday. Fun!

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I really wish I was going to Winter Wheat this weekend. Looks like there will be some really great sessions, and of course lots of old NEObuddies. I hope you guys have fun!!

Life is nuts. School is hard. Blogging will have to wait.

Maybe tomorrow.

In the meantime, a photo. NEOMFA alumni at the Windsor Pub. One of many unofficial reunions to come.

Two Steps Behind

I've been in Chicago (more or less) for a month, now, and I just can't seem to get a good rhythm going. I'm constantly rushing to finish my homework on time, constantly tired, constantly disoriented. At least it's constant, right?

I haven't been posting much because I'm trying not to be a whiner. Things are good...I'm just not used to them yet. So, in the spirit of being positive, here's a list of things that aren't stressing me out:

• Having dinner with Brandi last Friday, & realizing I am not the only small town girl who was/is freaked out by living in the city
• Peapod grocery delivery.
• It's fall in Chicago. Rainy yesterday, but today, cool, crisp, and sunny. My favorite weather.
• My poetry workshop. It's different than what I'm used to, and I'm still feeling a little blocked, but I think it's going to be very, very good for me.
• Hanging out at Lil' Joes on Wednesday nights. This is an Ohio-esq bar. PBR on tap, cheap food, no loud music. Just loud, drunk English geeks talking about politics, poetry, and gossip. It's almost like going to Pints!

Well, it's a short list, but it's better than nothing, right? I'm hoping every week, every month, every semester will get easier. They call this semester PhD bootcamp around here. I guess, if I can make it through this, I'll be ready for anything. (Ask me how I feel about that 2 years from now when I'm studying for prelims.)

Now, off to read Lukacs. Fun, fun.

Batty

It's official. I've lost my mind.

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I feel so guilty about being behind on my grading. That's one thing I usually am always on top of...primarily because procrastinating increases the pain. It's easier to slug my way through one set of journals or papers than to creep through 3 weeks worth. But I told my students I'd get the papers back to them this week. I've graded 6 out of 20 so far. And I can't look at another right now.

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Time to start working on those PhD and fellowship apps. I've got all my recommenders nailed down, and now I need to get them the info they need. I should be doing that now, not blogging.

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I am obsessed with this song:



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Tonight, I'll be going to KSU to hear Anna Leahy and Alberto Rios read for the Wick Poetry Center. I haven't been to a reading of someone whose work I don't know lately, so I'm looking forward to it.

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I've decided I like Moonlight. I'm still up in the air about the new season of Grey's Anatomy.

It's disturbing that I still make time to watch TV considering all the other things I could/should be doing. It's a sickness, really.

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I'm going Goth for Halloween. I bought a wig, black nail polish, black lipstick, fishnets... I haven't had a good costume for a few years, so I'm psyched.

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Hey Winter Wheat-ers! You should help me celebrate my thesis defense. More later.

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

You know, my blog titles make absolutely no sense sometimes.

I just submitted my pedagogy paper. I would usually ask someone to read something like this before I submit it, but I decided to trust myself this time. We'll see how that works out. I'm already getting excited/nervous about my first trip to NYC. I'm such a country bumpkin, I don't know what I'm going to do with myself in a city that big. Chicago made me want to pee my pants the first time I was there...I'm sure NYC will be somewhat the same.

Next up, working on my Winter Wheat presentation.

I got a lot of little things done yesterday, but not near as much as I was hoping. And I still need to write those damn poems floating around in my head. There's never enough time! Gotta leave for dinner at my sister's soon, and I'm usually there way longer than I plan to be, so once again, my weekend to do list is going to roll over into my Monday to do list. Hrumph. At least there's Tuesday...a very un-busy day to catch up.

Do you ever wonder how much of what you write isn't really yours? I was reading Drift of the Hunt the other day, which I haven't looked at for about a year, and I realized that one of Craig's lines ended up in one of my poems. I didn't do it on purpose. Luckily, Craig believes in poetic cannibalism, so I know he won't be upset. Besides, he's read the poem and he didn't notice either. (At least not that he told me.)

Enough of this mindless rambling. Back to work.

Much ado about nothing.

Some good news here and upsetting news here.

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Yesterday was my dad's birthday. He's 69. Happy birthday, Pops. This picture was taken by one of my sisters a few years ago. It was Christmas Eve and all the extended family had just left. This was before the lung transplant, so my mom was totally exhausted from hosting the party. My dad's at his best when he's taking care of someone, especially Mom.

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I have a lot to do this weekend. Pedagogy paper, Winter Wheat presentation, formatting my thesis and trying to get the last few poems out of my head and on to paper, and studying for the GRE are the big ones. So many little things, too. That's okay. Life feels full right now.

So far... (warning, whiny blog ahead)

So far today, I've:

• studied for the GRE for 2 hours
• walked Rubi
• gone to the grocery store
• made dinner
• made a bunch of annoying but necessary phone calls
• answered my email
• started reading The Visible World for next Monday's class

I think that should be enough for one day, don't you? I mean, I started studying for the GRE at 9, and it's 5. So I put in a full day. But here's where life starts to suck. I looked at the to do list I wrote for myself this morning, and I don't get to cross much off. I'm still supposed to:

• do laundry
• finish commenting on students' rough drafts
• review class plans for tomorrow (The Boss is observing me)
• write poem for Mary's class
• review presentation materials for Mary's class (I'm co-leading a discussion on Corn Shake's Miracle Fruit)
• research PhD programs
• start AWP pedagogy paper

Granted, this list doesn't have to get finished today. I mean, even the stuff that's due tomorrow isn't urgent, since I don't teach until 1p.m. and I have a 3 hour break between teaching and Mary's class. But if I don't keep plowing ahead, I'll start to feel guilty, and when I feel guilty, I get nothing done. I just mope.

Wait, I'm already moping.

P.S. I just looked up mope in the dictionary because it looked weird, and here's what it says: to be gloomy and apathetic. I had no idea how appropriate that word is.

Slipping

Uh-oh. Last Friday, I was all caught up, so I kind of took the weekend off. (You may have noticed that from my previous posts.) So far this week, I have not done a very good job of staying caught up or building back my momentum. Yesterday, I did two loads of laundry and graded about five papers, but didn't get to cross much else off my to do list. I did get to see the folks, though, and that was a very good thing.

Today will be busy. I still have to write a poem with a foreign language, a musical instrument, and some sort of romance. I also have to finalize my lesson plan (which includes reading Philip Levine's "What Work Is" and discussing how he uses description to analyze the situation ...exactly what I'm trying to teach my students to do in their second essay). Once those things are done, well, it's hard to say what to pick up next. Next week's homework or the GRE study guide? Work on my thesis or grade papers? Research PhD programs or BOR submissions? I have very little planned for the rest of the week, so hopefully there will be time for all of it. But for some reason, I don't think there will be.

Yesterday it was almost 90 degrees, but today feels like fall. I keep saying, "this may be the last warm day of the year," and then it gets warmer. I guess that's good. If summer keeps holding on, does that mean winter will be shorter? Ha! I've lived in Ohio long enough to know that winter is always 6 months long! If it doesn't start until January, it'll still be cold in June. (Allright, there may be a slight hyperbole in that last sentence, but it feels like six months!)

Hey, did you hear? There's a new list of contributors up at the Barn Owl Review blog.

Hickory Dickory Dock

Holy Crap. Week 4 is half-way over. My thesis is due a month from today. I seem to have lost the ability to complete anything on time. I have shit-tons of poems to get in the mail, but it is taking me for-freaking-ever to get myself organized and ready to print.

On the upside? I wrote a new Donny poem today. And I am in a remarkably good mood.

I need a day off. A real day off. Where I don't have a to-do list and I allow myself to chill out without feeling guilty. I think it will be well into November before I get one.

Aahhh, the life of an academic. What am I signing myself up for?

I think I'm going to go outside, enjoy what may be one of the last warm nights of the year, and read Baptist Confidential by Thomas Dukes. (Oh, how I love knowing people who write books. I said, "Dr. Dukes, I heard your book came out." and he said, "Yes, let me go get you a copy." )

Morning Routine

Ever since I moved into the new place, I've been starting my day on the porch with a cup of coffee and a cigarette. Sometimes with a book, or a note book, but a lot of times just to sit there and let my head unclutter. Today, it's 50 degrees, which was a tad uncomfortable. And it's just going to get colder. I don't know what I'm going to do when summer completely gives way to fall. It's not the same sitting in the garage.

I'm struggling this semester with keeping things balanced. Obviously, by my previous posts this month, I'm not feeling...emotionally stable...these days, which isn't terribly odd for me (or most poets, I assume, but there's another stereotype), but I can't put my finger on exactly why, and that's frustrating. I'm happy to be doing what I'm doing, but for some reason, nothing feels right.

I've barely written since I got home from Arizona, which was almost two months ago. I think I have 3 or 4 new poems. I have to get my thesis to my committee in about 33 days (but who's counting?) and I don't feel like I've written everything that I need to write. In a perfect world, I would write 10-15 more poems in the next couple weeks so I could cut out a few of the older ones. It's not that I'm unhappy with the old ones, it's just that I feel like I'm forcing them to fit. When I met with Steve (Reader #3) last week, he asked me about some of the grandfather mobster poems, thought they should be grouped together, at the beginning, and I've been resisting doing just that because I don't want my thesis to be in chronological order. But he's right--those poems don't blend well with the rest. I think if I'm going to do something with that whole family secret nonsense, I need to dedicate a lot of time to it, a lot of research. And I don't have time for that. I'm thinking second book. I know my thesis doesn't have to be perfect, doesn't have to be ready to go in the mail the day after my defense, but I can't help wanting it to be a cohesive whole, and it doesn't feel that way to me just yet.

As far as the rest of my life goes, I'm behind on everything. Granted, I'm only behind based on the target dates I set for myself, but I'm still behind. I haven't spent much time studying for the GRE, I haven't narrowed down my PhD list, I haven't started thinking about my writing sample or my personal statement. I have only sent out one submission packet. I haven't become the super-prepared and enthusiastic teacher I imagine myself to be. And my apartment is, as always, a mess, despite my promise to myself that I would keep up with my laundry and clean on a regular basis.

People have a tendency to tell me I'm being too hard on myself when I get into moods like this, but here's the thing: I'm by nature a very slow moving, low energy person. If I let up on myself I will get absolutely nothing done. Because when I push myself like this, I still find time to watch at least 2 hours of TV every day, so just imagine what I would be doing if I told myself it was okay to relax? I've struggled with this most of my life. I'm very driven, I like to have a lot on my plate, and I'm at my best when I'm juggling. But at the same time, I love to sit around and daydream, I love to read romance novels and watch stupid movies, and there's nothing better than waking up in the morning and deciding to roll over and go back to sleep. I have a very hard time finding the balance.

Well, enough of this introspection. Time to check out the to-do list and decide what to stress myself out about today.

anxiety? what's that?

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Holy crap! I am a glutton for punishment.

Nephew/Roommate was making fun of me yesterday because I was telling him how busy I would be and I said, "And I have to go to the bar after class." He said if I "had" to go to the bar, then maybe I shouldn't. He just doesn't get it. I have to schedule every minute of my life for the next 3 months, but that doesn't mean I can't schedule a little fun, too.

I'm behind on my BFS. I picked the journals, picked the poems, but haven't had time to sit down and write my cover letters or print things out or go to the post office for stamps. Although, I no longer know what my packets are going to cost. See, up until this summer, all my poems were one page. So I knew that I would have 6 sheets of paper in an envelope, and that costs 63 cents. Well, now most of my poems are 2 pages (or longer) so I am going to have to get everything weighed again. Hrumph. And when am I going to do that? It doesn't help that my new favorite form of procrastination is finding books on GoodReads.

Last night, before bed, I was watching the national drum corps competiton. (Really, I wouldn't have sought this out, but N/R told me it was on ESPN and thought I might be interested.) I didn't especially enjoy it, but did make me feel a bit of nostalgia. Fall has always been my favorite season, and I think that's partly because I loved being in marching band so much. In the spirit of band season, here are some pics from my days as a band rat. The first is me & my trumpet, circa 9th or 10th grade. The second one is me, senior year, getting ready to go on the field. (PJs and sweats are much more comfortable under polyester uniform pants than jeans are, and we had to tuck our pants into our socks so they didn't hang down around our ankles. I didn't just dress like that for fun.)

25

This is my new record for posts in one month. It's a little sad.

I had a very busy day today, starting with the eye appointment that started 15 minutes late (you know, I don't understand why doctors expect us to be punctual but they never are), then a nice stroll around West Akron with Rubi. After that, grocery shopping, making a huge pot of chili to freeze for those blustery September days ahead, a nap, and homework. Lots and lots of homework.

Right now, things are at a steady but fast pace. I imagine in a couple of weeks they will be rolling much faster and much rougher. I scheduled the GRE general test (end of October) and subject test (beginning of November) so I will be spending all of my free time studying (I cannot believe it costs $270 to take both tests! WTF?) so that I never have to take them again. The first time around, I studied for a weekend, and my scores showed it. Not wasting my money this time around.

Despite the storm clouds looming above me, I'm feeling pretty optimistic about this last leg of my masters experience. My thesis is shaping up, even though I've been neglecting it for the past few weeks, my classes are going to be fun and informative (crossing my fingers), and my students seem like a good natured bunch. There's so much to do, but most of it (minus gre preparations) is interesting and engaging. Besides, how could I complain when half of it is self inflicted? I have to admit though, I'm getting tired of good-natured, well meant comments about how getting the PhD is either pointless, too hard, or prolonged social suicide. My mind is made up, so leave me alone.

I promised myself that on Tuesdays (my only weekday off) I would pay bills and do laundry, and I haven't done either yet, so I best be shutting up now.

Idea Garden

I've been wanting to do Jeannine's 10 books that influence you meme, but for some reason, I'm having a hard time with it. I think something is wrong with me.

Two books that pop in my head are Swimming the Witch and Miracle Fruit. Both books help me eke out ideas about my own life, help me make connections that I wouldn't normally. But I don't think there are any other books that do that for me. So often, even if I love a book, I can't go back to it for ideas, they only come on the first reading.

Most of my poem ideas come from conversations, my old journals, and pictures. That's why I worry that I'll run out of poems. I don't really, though, not lately, because the ideas are coming so fast my primary concern is whether or not I'll have time to put them on paper.

Speaking of having time, I have a lot of work to do today. I shouldn't be blogging.

Brain = Empty

Wow. Is it really only Monday?

I revised 5 poems today. 3 for the Bisbee class and 2 for the other class.
I need new poems too (at least 2), but now my brain is empty. That will just have to wait.

Tomorrow is another never-ending day; class starts at 10, then I have a 3 hour break, then class until 9:30. And CP says he wants to go out after. Who can say no when the prof offers to buy the first pitcher?

Wednesday is all about laundry and packing.

Thursday, our flight leaves at 7:15. If all goes well, we should be at the ranch by mid-afternoon (Arizona time).

If I have any Arizona readers, come see me on Saturday night at the Oliver House. Or listen to my radio interview on Saturday afternoon. Actually, listen to my interview even if you're not in Arizona. I'm not exactly sure how this works, but they tell me you can get streaming radio from this website: kbrpradio.com Unfortunately, I don't know exactly what time the interview is, so I guess you'll just have to listen all day. I know it's sometime in the afternoon--I'm guessing between 12:30 and 4:00 Mountain time (is that the right name? Not pacific, but an hour ahead) because there's nothing listed there.

If I don't make it back here before I leave, hope everyone has a great week. I'll be back with pictures in about a week and a half.

Disappearing, perhaps?

My Bisbee workshop begins tomorrow. That means right now I should be reading the materials and prepping my discussion for Friday, but first, a little distraction. I have a feeling I will be swamped and overwhelmed for the next little while, so I imagine you will see less of me around here. Of course, I always say that and then find time to post almost daily, but we'll see. I definitely won't be posting while I'm gone because I hear there's no wireless connection where I'm going. (The horrors!)

And now I'm off to break in my hiking boots.

Wait, one more thing. I'm bursting with excitement for this, and dying of envy because of this.