And It Was a Successful Celebration of 82 Years! He Got His Blackberry Pie, too, Thanks to Casey. Now to Rest Some

Birthdays are busy. Dad didn't necessarily know all that was going on, but he did well, including his insistence on walking his urine sample into the 4th floor of the medical facility before I took him to lunch. He got his 'soft steak' (prime rib) and they even treated him to a brownie sundae which he devoured (that's usually my mom's thing - not his). 

For dinner, mom ordered pizza and wings and the whole crowd came to Amalfi Drive. Funny how the grown grandkids take up more space than they used to and things get crowded fast. 

Of course, it exhausted Dad and he wanted to go to bed at 7 p.m. (we kept him up until 8 p.m.). Mom zonked out soon after. It's exhausted celebrating the 80s, especially after a horrific medical week where his health fell fast. He's in recovering and doing great, and his stomach scan this morning showed he's having twin girls. Nope. Not really. Just a beer or two from yesteryear.

And I caught up with grading, so now feel ready to tackle the writing project I've put off for too long. I can't have an excuse. I need to get moving on this as time is of the essence. 

In the meantime, I'm simply happy I had the day to sing, to celebrate, and to be grateful for another birthday.

No, Butch. Your Chin Goes on That Strap. Not Your Nose. Your Chin. Put Your Forehead on the Lever. No, Butch. Not Your Tongue.

Actually, Papa Butch did very well at the optometrist, after he lost his glasses and became fixated on getting a new pair. They are the ol' Empire Vision crew and said, "We haven't seen Butch in 15 years." He instantly pulled out four pairs he liked and then we let the workers finalize the best fit for his face. 

I was also impressed at how well he made it through his letters, considering a week ago he didn't know where he lived, the name of his grandkids, or what year it is. He definitely has stepped up his head game since I've come home, although he doesn't remember asking for a girl puppy dog for his birthday. 

Papa Butch is 82 years old today...a 1942, WWII baby (grandpa Ken keeping an eye out for Nazis raiding Sherburne, NY cows). He's not too cognizant it's his

day, but he also ordered steak for the day and got into birthday donuts rather early. It's all good. He's entitled to a powdered donut with the jelly filling if he wants one.it's supposed to rain all day, so it won't be front porch people watching or walking up and down the street putting garbage bins at the sides of houses.

Grandma Vera and Grandpa Ken's baby boy is 82, and he left his Sherburne mischief to his youth. 

Wish we could take him to Chubby's for a bear, but they closed down for good, and with that went most of the hobbies and habits of this birthday boy. He may be a little sore today because he got on the ground to play with Karal yesterday while Mike was visiting. AND he got himself up without any help from the rest of us.

Yes, it was a very good day and we're hoping today will be more of the same with a homemade pie baked by Casey.

Here's to my dad!

The Evening Dinner When Dad Couldn't Figure Out How We Made the Potatoes so Happy To See Him - He Just Couldn't Figure It Out

I really wanted kielbasa and pirogies, but there were no sausages in the house....just Steak-Ums and peppers, and McCain's happy fries. I also made a great salad with goat cheese and candied walnuts (you do what you can with you have lying around). 

Dad lost his glasses, so we spent most of the day searching for them. Tore up the house, but they still haven't appeared, so not sure what we can do to rectify the issue. He insists on going to the eye doctor today, so we'll see how that goes. We just might be able to arrange that, although I can't imagine how he'll do behind an eye machine. If Tricia was still in the area, I'd have her services stop by as she made a killing on working with senior citizens who weren't being served in the area. I know she sold the business, but I'm not sure to whom. 

And I gave myself the burned bun. Figured I'd take the smokier one, given that I tend to make food they normally don't eat. 

Stomach doctor comes tot he house today. Temperatures begin to drop again, and rain returns. Tuesday in CNY, but without a Tuesday night to celebrate at Chubby's. Almost makes ya feel naked not having a dive bar to saunter down to with the locals on a Tuesday night. 

Ah, at least Papi Butch got his happy faces. We told him, "The potatoes were just really excited to see us tonight, Dad."

We should have such happy meals. 

Still Walking Toward a Rising Sun, but Not Doing This as a National Performance this Week...Just as a Memory of the Weeks That Simply Were

Loved presenting twice in the last week on literacy work in Connecticut - ten years of CWP's redesigned of programs for teachers and youth. It amazes me to see how much we've accomplished in such a short time and how the Brown School's mission, Kentucky Writing Portfolios, and the National Writing Project way helped me to logically set forth with work for K-12 writers and what is possible.

I'm also glad to have a week off from presenting and teaching, so I can give my brain a little rest (after all, year 11 of this work is right around the corner. 

Spent the day putzing about the ol' parental grounds, enough to tucker out Karal who crashed on her bed rather early. It was a busy day of cousin dogs, neighbor dogs, and relatives. 

It's Monday, and I'm sure Butch and Sue want a slower pace without all the hubbub, so it is my intent to finish the grading I've put off for several weeks. There's no excuse, except that there's no time to keep up with it all (as more and more has piled on faculty making the work that much more difficult to accomplish what we're supposed to get done). 

Funny, mom and dad were listening to the MOMS OF LIBERTY squawking about how teacher unions and unions, in general, have set a bad precedent for education and work places across this country. Perhaps there's truth to some of that, but I'm experiencing top down exploitation of workers in almost all industries and I'm merely wishing for more powerful labor movements to put the rich and ridiculous in check. It's insane. Ah, but this morning I'm channeling Oklahoma sunrises as I used that as a metaphor via Ger Duany....Walk Toward the Rising Sun. Sun gives us life. We should always be walking towards a better life, not only for us, but for those around us.

Made It To Syracuse With the Canine Giving Me Dog Eye the Entire Way...Are We There Yet, or What? Foggy, Wet Travels

I'll be in Syracuse for "spring" break from Fairfield, although I need the week to catch up on grading, as I've not accomplished much this semester. The hills of 17 were fog factory and I kept hoping I was still on the road in places...definitely needed the white lines on the side of the road. The trip went fast, though, as I simply wanted a rendezvous with minimal thought.

I presented online to the Oklahoma State University Writing Project conference then immediately jumped in my car to take off. They were running 30-minutes late, so I was too. Didn't get to Syracuse until after 6 p.m. and had mom's scalloped potatoes, ham, and beans (which I thought was pasta at first and was like, ma...these are undercooked).

I believe the temperatures are going up today, so it will be good to hike around the ol' neighborhood. I washed Karal's bed that I brought (skunk remnants), but in truth I think I ruined the bed...stuffing lumps. Well, I tried. 

It is funny to look over to my right and to always see Karal staring at me as I drive. I'm not sure if she thinks I'm going to disappear and that is why she holds this glaring position, but I am used to it. It's sort of cute the way she stares. 

And she knows where we're going. As soon as we get off the exit she starts to cry...a longing, desperate cry to share her happiness we've returned to Amalfi Drive. 

We here. Now what? That's for the week to decide. 

Belated Birthday Gift. Thrilled to Have an Easter Island Nose to Place the Lenses that Too Often Get Misplaced (But Hopefully No More)

I have one more big shindig, and then I can concentrate on what is most important: family and self-care. I am thrilled to present on ten years of CWP-Fairfield work, but then I need to meditate (self-medicate?) and have some down time of not controlling any of the narratives. Instead, I'm going to succumb to the larger stories life has to tell me.

I am super proud of my undergraduate student, Max Limric, and the investment I'm fortunate to make with him on following his own intellectual interests and trajectory. Pay it forward. Take what you have learned and share it with those coming forward next. 

I'm thankful for Pam for feeding me a Friday dinner and giving me mental serenity (with a slightly, if not faint, skunk-smelling dog) and to have this morning to make last minute adjustments for a teacher and researcher conference this morning. 

After years of not finding my glasses, misplacing them, and outright losing them, I am happy by this belated Birthday gift from Kaitlyn and Dominik. I now have a place to locate them (as well as a duck lamp for beside my bed in case I have to pee at 2 a.m.). 

It's been too go-go-go to process how many people I'm indebted to, and thankful for, but I'm hoping a long drive to Syracuse will help me to refocus, rethink, and recalibrate. I just need to download the right book for the journey. 

In the meantime, safe travels are wished to any and all who are free to take a little time away for a week. I am good to go this afternoon and I look forward to the quiet on the road (with a good audio book).

Happy to Debut a Student Presenter This Afternoon at the YA Lit Summit Hosted by Oklahoma State University for Scholars and Teachers

Ah, this one isn't necessarily my gig. I was selected to take part in the Corrigan Scholars program which brings undergraduate students together with researchers on campus to mentor a two year project. The young man who approached me is a junior, Max Limric, and he was sent my way because of his interest in children's and young adult literature, but also teaching bilingual students. My expertise is not with Spanish-speaking populations, but I'm able to share all the work of Ubuntu Academy and the writing research I've been fortunate to lead with CWP-Fairfield. 

The project is still young, but he has a semester of YA Literature under his belt and is currently taking a children's literature course and several Spanish classes (his mentors are everywhere). When I was paired to be a mentor, I said, "Why not aim high early?" Lo and behold, his paper was accepted and he enters the world as a young scholar. 

His title is, "Spanish my first language, / bachata a reminder of the power of my body"; Exploring YA Texts for Spanish Speaking Students," and the bachata dance above is the perfect metaphor. He's at the beginning phase of the project (and trust me, I already contacted Tracey Flores about the work)(part of my mentoring). 

I actually have to prepare for another conference in the a.m. tomorrow, as I'm on for 40 minutes before I head to Syracuse for a week. Funny how digital spaces change what is possible in a given day. This will mean five national presentations in one week. Yes, I'm tired.

I'm excited about this one, however, as I'm channeling all who encouraged me to take chances early on...I mean, while I was entering the profession, I was already leading conference presentations in Kentucky (and I hadn't even entered the classroom). 

I'm paying it forward and it feels great. 

March on everyone. March March March. It's already the 1st of March.