It's MLK Youth Leadership Day, @MarcelleHaddix. Another Celebration of the 10th Anniversary of Writing Our Lives

Seems like yesterday was 2009 and I was a frantic doctoral student wondering why I left the classroom in pursuit of another phase in my life. Lucky for me, I was mentored by Dr. Marcelle Haddix who came to Syracuse University to guide my light. I am still trying to make sense of scholarship, the privileges of higher education, and the reality of K-12 schools and American youth. She and I shared a passion for teaching writing and for promoting youth voices. We knew writing was the answer, and we set out to provide opportunities beyond school. We also set out to create transitional opportunities for writing within in-between spaces of in-school, state-mandated crazy, and out-of-school lives.

Writing Our Lives was born, and earlier this Fall we celebrated the 10th anniversary in Syracuse. It was beautiful, special, and motivating.

Truth is, however, such a movement has been with me since Kentucky, too, and this year, today, Writing Our Lives - Connecticut (the MLK tradition) will be in its 8th year.

Today, I host 80+ 8th graders from local schools as they come to campus to think about the legacy of MLK, but also what their responsibilities are as writers, movers, shakers and human beings. It will be a day of Kwame Alexander, Nic Stone, Jacqueline Woodson, Jerry Craft, Walter Dean Myers, and Jason Reynolds inspiration. The YA novels are lined up. The models are in place. It is The Challenge of Change: Writing Our Lives at the Intersection of Justice and Democracy.

The 2020 MLK Essay Contest Winners will be in the house and I can't wait to shout out to them once again!

But teachers will be there, too. I always love watching them see their students fall in love with writing processes.  A number of special guests are lined up and I can't wait to use the wisdom of Martin Luther King, Jr. with the excellence of young adult novels to prompt another generation to see personal  potential and ways to take action on their passions through putting pen to paper.

Yes, it's Friday, but I'm ending this work week with a bang and dedicating today's celebration to my mentor, my friend, my muse, and my spiritual guide, Marcelle. Today is for her. She won't be with us, but she's always with us.

If only all could be blessed by such an influence.

Last day of January, 2020. Phew.

Always Motivated By the MLK Convocation Dinner and Speaker @FairfieldU. Waking Up Inspired

Since 2015, I've been teaching The Problem We All Live With in my undergraduate and graduate courses, especially when discussing philosophy of education, pedagogy, and accessing a great education for all students. I've linked the radio show here, because no matter how many times I hear it, I still get moved, angered, and motivated to do more.

I'm lucky. My time in Kentucky was at a K-12 school with a mission for diversity, inclusivity, and the intentional investment of every child for what they might contribute to the community. I knew classrooms where, if it was out there in the world, it was in room 301, too. It was beautiful. It was normal. And quite frankly, it is all I knew.

Then I left. I realize that the integration achieved at the J. Graham Brown School in Louisville was most definitely not a national norm, especially in the northeast who have high brow academic institutions that love to point out the flaws of the south without interrogating its own problems. At this point in history, I can say that the zip-code apartheid and cultural hypocrisy of this problem is Distinguished-Exemplar in the Nutmeg State.

Perhaps that is why I was engaged, hooked, mesmerized, captivated, and encouraged (albeit discouragingly) by the 1619 Project presented by Nikole Hannah-Jones convocation speech as she received our University's prestigious LaFarge Award. I was invited to the dinner earlier to recognize 4 outstanding middle-school essays inspired by the vision of Martin Luther King (these kids were given autographed copies of New Kid by Jerry Craft, We Are Displaced by Malala Yousafzai, and scholarships to attend CWP-Fairfield's summer literacy programs for youth). I entered the evening's event knowing I would present the awards, and follow with he commencement speaker, but I didn't make the connection in my head that this Nikole Hannah-Jones was the same Nikole Hannah-Jones who has inspired much of my thinking in other work. I blame time, demands, teaching, and Crandall stupidity for the fact that I didn't make the connection. I've been using  The Problem We All Live With in my courses since 2015. I am very excited that it is soon to be a book, an extension of Nikole Hanna-Jones' hard work.

One of the messages I left with last night was her pessimistic, yet hopeful, solution of integrating American schools. It is something I've written about in the CT Mirror (2014) and that, aghast, elicited much hatred, vitriol, and outrageousness from readers. The highest perforating schools in the state, do not wish to integrate with others. That was known. And I thank all the clever responses I got to that, especially the expletives and variations of the the F word. Sadly, the work CWP-Fairfield did with CT Mirror appears to have lost its place on the Internet.

In the meantime, last night Nikole Hannah-Jones, a journalist, didn't report anything other than expertise as a fact-finding reporter. That is her job, and that is why the 1619 Project has become so important. She's smart. She's witty. She's got a magical mind. And, sadly, she also has traced a nation built on two realities: one of democracy for some which we have, and one for a democracy for all, which we're still working to realize.

Nikole Hannah-Jones' case was made, and like the This American Life stories of 2015, America has a lot of work to do, especially to meet the ideas originally conceived. I'm with her 100% of the way - integration is the answer; investments in public schools is the way.

Struggling populations have always been the solution, not the problem. They've built this democracy.

Two Snapshots. Two Proofs of Existence. Two Moments in Time Where I Am Thinking, Huh? What Is Really Going On?

Forgive me. I watched This Is Us last night and I'm in total awe of story arcs, creativity, and executive decision making. I simply can't believe the ways stories are unfolding and I'm jealous with the people behind such stories for making such narrative possible.

Okay. Crandall is a fan. Randall, Kevin, and Kate. SOLD. The way I'm woven between generations, possibilities, family complexities, and realities has me mesmerized, especially in a multi-racial family based on love, commitment, and togetherness.

I digress.

Yesterday, I had a National call of potential possibilities that can create an arc of my own over the next few years. It was beautiful, I'm excited, and I can't believe the world has been kind enough to embrace me as it has.

This followed with another arc, a storyline that includes multiple others I'm simply in awe of and that have pieces of the stories I know K-12 teachers need.

And, I should say, these narrative arcs haven't been written before and are unexplored territories. They're yet to be written, but a draft is in place (well, at least a sketch). Behind the scenes, there is a solid crew of us making possibilities happen. It's exciting, really.

I am humbled. I have no idea how all these beautiful people are coming together at exactly the right time to bring such 'maybes' into existence.

But it is happening. Phew. Worlds collide in beautiful ways when networks are fused into harmony, and the joys of human togetherness come to fruition.

So, I watch This Is Us (admittedly cry)(I'm human after all)...and I can't help but count my blessings to have the crazy trajectory that I've had. When I was an undergraduate student, a mentor said to me, "Crandall, you are the bridge. You have this ability to make connections between people that they never knew was possible."

Okay, bridging is what I'm doing. It's beyond me...this is The Great Whatever, and I'm letting time and the universe let happen, what will.

I love / to believe / in hope.

When Great Minds Influence Another's Thinking, Even When They May Never Know The Extent of Such Influence (Thank You, @AlfredTatum)

I'm not sure that I'm a stalker, but I'm definitely an intellectual consumer, and avid reader of 21st century thinking about what it means to advocate for all kids. My research has primarily been with writing, but when I was doing my work with 8, relocated male refugee youth from Africa, I knew I needed to have a talk with Dr. Alfred Tatum. His work was amazing and I needed his advice to go forward with my research.

It took me a few years, but I finally had the nerve to approach him. His enormous suggestion that changed the direction of my work, "You can't go a-historical." He said to me that I needed to craft the history of the young African-refugee background youth for my dissertation. In other words, I needed to become a historian, and if I had a responsibility to speak out about their stories (a quote I took from one of the participants), then I needed to take my 'English Lit' degree and do critical readings of the past, including postcolonial perspectives and critical race theory. This is what I did. It was a quick conversation at an LRA meeting that launched my career. He probably doesn't even remember the conversation, but I can say it became central to everything I do today. Every life of today is entwined in the complex movements of yesterday. Each step we take is on the shoulders of giants.

Tonight, I am doing another round of Developmental Reading in Secondary Schools in which I will have students think about their own 'textual lineages.' I got this from Dr. Alfred Tatum, Chicago, and from his publications. I can say that the 'textual lineage' presentations with my graduate students throughout the semester are *hands down* the best assignments I give each year. Through their individual exploration of  reading and writing history, they get closer to how they can be better educators for all students.

Obviously, it is beyond the scope of a daily blog to hit all the academic excellence of Dr. Alfred Tatum that has led to this post (and I'll save the string of citations), but I can say that his writing, scholarship, and influence has led to many of the choices I make with my own writing (and instruction)(and even scholarship, although not to his magnitude).

Tonight, I am teaching his chapter in K. Hinchman's and H.K. Sheridan Thomas's Best Practices in Adolescent Literacy Instruction - it is the first time I've used this text. I can say, however, I finally have Tatum's language foo initiate the semester. He is chapter one - BONUS.

Too often, I don't have time or space to acknowledge the biggest influences in my life.  I am a Tatum disciple. Although I'm not a Research One Academic All-Star, it is the work of this scholar that allows me to be (and do) all that I am and have done. I continue to be inspired.

That's what is on my mind this morning.

When In Doubt, Read. It Hit Me Last Night, My Motto Has Always Been, "When in Doubt, Read."

I'm not the only one. I find safety in that. And I am thinking about Oprah here, because I remember an episode she had on emotional eating, and I recognized that there's truth to that...at certain times, with certain emotions, one simply can turn to food for comfort.

Last night, after attending a Stags game and going to dinner...and after processing the out-of-the-ordinary news of Kobe Bryant's death (along with his daughter and others), I simply wanted to curl up with a book. I just finished We Are Displaced this morning, a selection of refugee stories from girls around the world, and have a pile of 13 other books I want to get to by my birthday. When I got to Mt. Pleasant, I let the dog out, folded the laundry, and simply sat in my Crandall chair to read.

That's what I do. That's my escape. That is where I've always gone to find comfort when my brain is a little topsy-turvy with thinking.

It should be noted that I'm not a NBA fan. I may have seen 2 or 3 NBA games in my life. I am, however, a NCAA fanatic, and I can lose days upon days with college basketball. Once it's "professional" I lose interest. So much hype, so much celebrity, so much fandom and so much money. I respect it. I get it. But I don't necessarily contribute to it. I do, however, know an icon when there's an icon. I too shoot wadded papers into the air to my wastebasket yelling, "Kobe!" - this, I imagine, is because of the gaming systems that the boys have played in my house for the last decade+. I picked it up from them. A hero is a hero because the heroism is deserve.

The news hit me like I lost a student (and I have many stories where this has happened). The unexpected whacks me upside my head and I think, "How can this be?" I think of one young man who lost his life in his senior year and my friend, Charlie, said driving on the highways of Kentucky, "It's all so random...so @#$@#ing random."

That's the only thing we can say when we have no meaning to give.

My head was already spinning with news, and truths, and not truths, and my sense of morality and goodness verses the lack of morality and goodness of others, before the news came out.

That's why I needed a night off with books. I actually sat down to read advanced reader copies of books coming out in 2022. I wanted to think optimistically ahead to a time that might be...can be...hopefully will be possible. My mind is not good with the world right now. History has made sense, for the most part, but today and the last few years have me intellectually in the washer and dryer.

Sometimes I just need to read to calm myself down.

So that is what I did. What I do. 2.5 books in one day. And not feeling guilty at all.

Thankful to @_silvergal and Michael for Getting Me Out in the Rain To Celebrate Art, Bridgeport, Teachers and Students

I knew yesterday was going to be a wash, and I planned to spend the majority of the day under a blanket, reading books. Early in the a.m., however, Yellow, called Stripe, and said, "Come with me to University of Bridgeport to see my friends Jay and Geralene's art work - The Bridgeport Portrait Project, debuting today. She explained that her friends have been documenting the people of Bridgeport for some time: every day people, well known locals, kids in schools, administrators, characters, and local eccentrics. How could I say NO? Of course I went and I enjoyed every second, especially viewing portraits of so many I know and
appreciate.

The Bridgeport Portrait Project introduces you to PEOPLE who make the City of Bridgeport much more than just a PLACE. The project gives contemporary definition to the rich culturally diverse community that Bridgeport has always been. The participants and their stories of values and believes...culture and heritage. My favorite was seeing Mike Daly, the journalist at the CT Post who has been with me for the MLK Essay contest since the beginning, and who has easily become my Bridgeport gem of a human being.

 It was also great to see several young people featured in the display, including a young woman who talked about her success being recognized by Fairfield University's Poetry For Peace contest. I loved hearing her shout out that accompanied the photo on display.

The exhibit displayed Bridgeport's best, including Sheena Graham, last year's Teacher of the Year, who we luckily had as a Keynote at our Student and Teaching Celebration last spring. Her success as a music teacher is inspirational. wonderful and full of magic. It was an honor being able to work with her and to see her on the wall!

If you get a chance to see the exhibit, it will be worth every second of your time: the faces are recognizable, the individuals wonderful, and the stories brilliant. I love how the community of Bridgeport was captured in these portraits. What a wonderful way to celebrate a city and those that live in it.

I'm thankful for Silver, too - both of them - for dedicating their lives to the young people attending Bridgeport Public Schools and who also invited Edem and me to eat at Baja's in Orange, following the exhibit.

Um, YUIM! They are a dynamic duo, those two...dedicating countless hours with love, heart, integrity, mind, and devotion. Whether with art work, grant-writing, sports, teaching, guidance, mentoring and/or parenting, they've been there for the kids they adore.

It was the perfect day to warm the heart on a rainy, cold, and exceptionally windy day.

I definitely went to bed last night feeling blessed.

Checking Off This Saturday As a Bust - Using It To Catch Up and to Get Ahead

I'm checking this off even before I begin my day. It's supposed to rain all day and I can't wait to simply sit back and read all I need to in order to catch up. I'm actually looking forward to being trapped inside for a day, under a blanket, with a pile of books.

Saturday, check.

I'm not sure what happened to my Friday other than I was on campus by 7:30 a.m. and left by 3 p.m..

I came home to run and said, "No way am I cooking."

So, I didn't.

I went to Dave and Kris's for dinner, but then agreed I'd bring McCain's smiley face fries. Dave made parsnips and Brussel sprouts. So, so good. He also grilled outside and I thought, "Phew. It's sinful to eat this well on a Friday."

But it's Saturday. And I honestly am too brain-dead to have any expectations. Maybe college basketball, snacks, and catching up on school work. I know, I simply need a day where I can do the work that needs to be done, at a pace that is slower, in a space where no one bothers me.

Here's to letting it begin. 

Mr. Bargain Hunter Strikes Again. This Time, He Takes DSW By Storm with Coupons and Clearance Racks

I've needed new boots for a few years. Chitunga and I got the same Carolinas a while ago, but his stayed together. Mine fell apart (the glue on the soles wouldn't last, no matter how many brands I tried to use to repair them) (and no, I didn't try Elmer's). Eventually, I said, "Forget about it," and spent two years shoveling the snow in in sneakers.

Have you been boot shopping lately? They are practically a car payment, where Timberland owns all the franchise rights to winter warmth and can get away with prices that are absolutely ridiculous.

Anyways, DSW sent me a $20 coupon, then a $10, then an online $10, and a birthday $5, and I found these in my size on clearance from $175 to $160, with a 50% off tag, plus my coupons...I got them for $60.

Then the scarf - who would pay $60? - was also on clearance and I got mine for like $4. Win Win Win.

I now welcome the snow. My neck has color and my feet will be warm.

And it looks like a lengthy day at the University today, beginning at 8 a.m. - time to set the alarm once again. If all works out, that work will be over by noon; if not, I'm throwing in the towel for sure, for sure. I'm exhausted.

There's reading to be done. I rarely choose the same books semester to semester and offering new ones keeps me honest with the profession and helps me to grow, ya know? Next week is the University's MLK week, too, so there's non-stop commitment to programs and events (and I need to prepare and be ready for them all).

Okay, I'm going to take Friday by the horns, then hunker under a blanket for the weekend getting everything ready for next week. Looking ahead at the calendar, there just isn't going to be a break for some time.

We got this. In new boots, too. And a scarf. Cheap bastard.

It's Okay To Look Like Grimace, Feel Like Grimace, and Waddle Like Grimmace If, In Fact, You Are Grimace

I've always had affinity with the McDonald's milkshake dude. I suppose it is because I've always felt like I was built like him and destined to morph into him and, well, know that I actually am him.

This is a Thursday post caused by the fact that no matter how hard I tried to get home during sunlight so I could get a run in, I didn't achieve the goal. I should know from normal routine that running in the morning, before I leave my house, is the way to go. If I go to my office, I get trapped with one item after another, so when I get home, I'm too tired to run (I do, however, walk on these days). I run best, though, when I reward myself for morning work.

I am absolutely amazed how 8 hours in the office only equates to emails being answered, advising getting done, and recommendations getting written. Meanwhile, all the other work piles up and the overwhelmed Crandall simply comes home to eat, then get back to it.

Last night, I craved piles and piles of Reese's Peanut Butter cookies. I realize this is stress related.

Oh, but you watch yourself every morning in the shower and you know, Crandall. You know. You can't take a day off from running. The genetics are against you.

Alas, if only I had a milkshake to drown my sorrows with---It's all good. I can't do ice cream in the cold months.

It's Thursday. Today will be another day.

A Frog-Tastic Return and (Can I Just Say?) I Love Seeing Graduate Students In Action, Especially on Day One

I remembered to pack my lunch! And are you ready for this? My older sister got me a lunch bag that (Wola!) perfectly matches my office wall-hanging. It's the first time I used it and felt lucky to be able to introduce these two fellows to one another. They got along marvelously and I packed a pesto-turkey sandwich, an apple and some peanuts. Colleagues argued that my banana wasn't ripe enough to eat, so I left it for tomorrow.

In class, I did a Deborah Appleman activity of having students define key words for the semester individually, then offered them an impromptu vocabulary test where they had to pick words and put them in quadrants, relating each to one another, developing sentences, relationships and a better understanding of all. This is how the class began and as they filled up the white boards, I simply sat back and thought, "I just love teaching. Day one and look at them out of their seats and actively engaged in the coursework."

Of course, it helps that over 50% of the class was with me last semester so the instructional ease seems to be a simple carry-over. They know my style and quickly jump into the learning without any questions being asked.

Lucky for me, too, I was given the 009 learning lab in Canisius, which is the ideal learning space with all its white boards, angles, and ways to rearrange. I'm amazed how many go into that space and simply lecture, but while I'm in there, I'm totally taking advantage of the interactive spaces. All classrooms should be designed this way. Everyone feels extra special having such design right in front of them.

And I began at Fairfield having to teach myself how to use chalk and chalkboards again. I must say, they've quickly (and out of necessity) innovated their learning spaces.

Wow...it's mid-week. Hump Day. Hmmm. I think I need to do a total CWP-Fairfield day. The 200 copies of POW '19 were mailed, but now it is time to think about 2020.

Let this be a vision day.

Back to Teaching Tonight - I Continue to Be Amazed By How Much I Get Done Academically When Classes Aren't In Session

Thank you, Norman Rockwell. My visit to the museum in your honor in Rutland, Vermont during my days of Bread Loaf School of English (Word Loaf, according to The Simpsons) are paying off.

Boy with Teacher.

I dress more like the boy than the teacher.

And we're back. Actually, I was back last week, because my Monday class was a Wednesday, but I took that as a commercial for the real teaching still to come. Today, Tuesday, it goes full swing again, and my day of meetings is 100% evidence of this. I'm locked in until May. Ugh.

The good news is I spent most of Monday (yesterday) getting ready for the classes, knowing that I'm unlikely to find any time during the week to work on them. It's time to start thinking CWP-Fairfield summer work and I need to focus on all of that, too. 6 weeks of summer work. Woot woot!

I tried to set a portion of my evening last night aside for pleasure reading (well, work reading - it all ties together), but after cooking dinner, cleaning the upstairs, doing laundry, walking the dog and preparing syllabi, I ran out of time. Actually, Generation One of the Ubuntu Academy Kids stopped by to catch up. I felt horrible - I had nothing to feed them, as I brought all the desserts (cookies and brownies made for Chitunga) over to Leo and Bev's yesterday, so I wouldn't devour them on my own.

The collegiate syllabi is something else - always a challenge laying out the course readings, conversations, intellectual development with dates, holidays, guest speakers and assignments. The particular course I was working on, too, is one being merged officially for the first time. A few items had to be sacrificed from each to make room for the new vision (I'm sad to say that Critical Encounters  by Deborah Appleman was chopped - too many of the content area teaches wouldn't find it useful for their curriculum; instead, I added Best Practices in Adolescent Literacy Instruction, edited by K. Hinchman and H.K. Sheridan-Thomas, because it compiles some of the best scholars into one location and should give me the most bang for my buck).

It looks that I'll be going back to my out in the dark, return in the dark days that come with January and February.

It is what it is. I must count my blessings. 

Nothing Like Walnut Beach Crabs & NFL Football The Day After a Snow Storm in Connecticut

Actually, they were air-fried raviolis, but artist-friend and musician, LEO, turned them into crab cakes (mine looked more like War of the Worlds spaceships with legs).

We had delicious Gouda Triscuits, roasted nuts, an incredible vegetable and steak pie, and air-fried raviolis (which did their best to run from the house back to the beach to get back in the water, no matter if it was cold or not). I think only a couple of them made it.

I tried to go another day of not working on University items, but I couldn't avoid another day and had to go in during the morning to get books I left and to bring other items that were in my trunk (and have been for a week). This morning needs to be a productive day, as the Tuesday we return is loaded with meetings all the way up until I teach in the afternoon. It would be okay if meetings accomplished anything, but 25+ years of being part of them, I can honestly say that 99.9% of them could be handled in a bulleted list and email.

Ah, but we're humans and we have careers.

What's interesting about Milford Ravioli crabs is how easy it is for them to tuck their legs under their hard shells on an aluminum tray. You only catch some of them moving when needing a space to reposition themselves or, at least in the case above, when they are sprinting to reach the front door so they can run in hopes of sand.

I haven't tried the soft shell crabs, however - only the hard-shell ones with toothpick legs (designed, again, by Leo).

It would be so cool if they were able to spit out webs made of whip cream or cotton candy. We will have to work on that.

That beef stew pie, though. Phew. That easily can be  a staple during the winter months. Absolutely delicious and perfect for back-to-back NFL playoff games.

I have to say, though...football is much more interesting to watch when the score is close and both teams are playing hard to make it interesting. They do get huge crowds, however. All that money spent to sit outside in the cold when they could be dining on Walnut Beach Crabs in Milford. I think we won. We were warmer. 

And He Attempts to Spend One Entire Day, 24 Hours, Away From University Responsibilities. Success. Hard, But Achieved.

We had the first half of the day to go shopping, running, and walking. True to schedule, however, the snow started at 2 pm and it was pretty consistent until 9 p.m.. I'd say we got about 3 inches, which I shoveled where I could.

Yes, Chitunga went out, but he was also home earlier than expected.

I also watched Syracuse, followed by Manchester United, followed by Kentucky, followed by Louisville. I would have had a successful day but Manchester lost to Newcastle (which is my favorite beer, although there was none in the house)

It was a good day of television vegging. I cleaned the house, stocked the fridge, cooked a pot roast, and had a great meal.

Even made brownies.

My goal? To stay away from everything Fairfield University for a day (24 hours). I think I achieved.

Sort of: I booked flights to Nashville, Tulsa and Houston - all locations I need to be this semester.
But after I did that, I simply vegged inside with the dog, talked with the kid, and simply watched the white stuff fall from the sky. It was beautiful, and I loved every second of it.

The CT Panic Began Yesterday - Snowmageddon of 2-5 Inches. I'm Simply Looking for The Beauty of It Falling

Chitunga's car had a recall so he drove all the way from Syracuse for it (he also had an eye appointment) (actually, when he got the Subaru, they told him, "Tunga, you had this recall fixed last summer." He was like, "My bad." - He later told me that everyone at Subaru laughed at his Imprezza because it was carrying thick patches of blocked salt underneath. He simply told him, "I am living in Syracuse. What else do you expect?"

Anyway, he is home, and he brought 1/100th of CNY winter with him. We are expecting to 2-5 inches, but the way the weather reporters are playing it up, you'd think it was 42 inches. Everyone is worried about driving this way or getting groceries that way. I'm thinking, just turn off the news. If you don't watch them rambling, you can be pleasantly surprised or disappointed. Most of the time, we shake our heads wondering, "What was that all about?"

I will say, if it snows, I have a pile of work I'm going to do with no rush to leave my house. I will also say that unlike most of the universe, I didn't stock up at Big Y last night. If it does snow, it will begin around 1 pm tomorrow, so I have the morning to get food for the boys should we get trapped inside.

And, if it does snow (and does stick), I'm going to once again crave getting cross country skis. I simply love running outdoors, and although I should head inside to the gym, I crave the oxygen that comes from being NOT IN a man-made building .

We shall see. In time, in time.

Here's to the storm or dusting or the end of the world, which ever you have. I am hoping you survive with warm bread, good booze, and perhaps a cup of soup.

The Older I Get, The More I Look Like a Cabbage Patch Doll. Decreasing Temperatures? No Prob. Great Evening to Run

I didn't make it home from the office in time to run in daylight, although I got up at 7 a.m. and immediately dressed to run outdoors. I had to go into work, however, to welcome the 6th edition of POW! and since labels needed to be mailed, mailers created and announcements promoted, I was stuck in the CWP office until late.

Funny, too, because in one day we had 4 inquiries about this summer's programs. Let's keep the momentum going.

I got home around 5:30 and said to Edem, "I will likely freeze and be back in 4 minutes, but I'm going to try to run 6 miles."

Funny thing is that as soon as I got outside, I knew it was going to be a great run. I've been running in the morning, but I used to run only at night. I'm good in the dark, especially when I'm familiar with the trail, although twice cars almost hit me. I think I may need to wear reflectors. That's my fault.

Chitunga comes home for an appointment this morning, and I'm looking forward to spending time with him. He will probably have a 1,001 arrangements made, but I'm hoping he will be like, "Let's go to the Sitting Duck and just chill out over a burger." With a questionable Saturday, weather-wise, however, Friday my be the only play time he can get with his friends.

Scratch that. My friends and I had no problem going out in storms. In fact, my 20th birthday was in a blizzard of '92. There were no cars on the street because you couldn't move, but my friends and I still trekked to find one another's house. I wiped out, too, and smashed up my knee (and this was trying to get to the party...before any partying occur).

Shoot. Don't wish that into the world.

I'm hoping to get POW! mailed out to the 200+ writers from the summer. And, colleagues and I signed an article over to Wiley today. I'm looking forward to that piece coming out.

I really do love running in the cold (before the ice comes). I know I have to move indoors soon, but I will take advantage of an outdoor life any chance I can get.

And Sh'Zaam! Boom! POW! Just Like That. The Power of Words, 6th edition, Is Currently in My Possession

We've been waiting for the 6th edition of POW! Power of Words, since November. 27 teachers helped to edit round one, then a graduate student and I worked on it from August until November. We tried so hard to get the 237 pages to print before the holidays. This time, however, it was not our fault - the publisher fell behind this season.

Even so, it's here. 6 weeks of incredible teaching, including a 5-week teacher institute, and data to support our work - This is the outcome when students and teachers are motivated to use tools, divide the labor, explore the rules of genres, and most importantly, take part in a community to accomplish writing goals.

I can't believe we're on the 6th edition and this summer will be year 7 since the Young Adult Literacy Labs we're created.

And I knew they'd arrive on the day of my first class, when I was thinking I might be able to catch up on Thursday and Friday. NOPE. For the next two days, I will be mailing these complimentary puppies out to our 200+ authors. The postal department on campus hate when I arrive with this particular mailing. Ah, but I always bring elves to help me.

It really does take a tremendous community to pull off this work every year and we are so lucky to have the teachers and students that we do. They make me smarter and offer me a text I can use in professional development each year (and in my courses).

This is ongoing action research. I have the greatest job on Earth.

Entering 2020 Was One Thing (Woot Woot! Wee)....Entering The First Day Of Another Semester Is Another Thing

Truth. I've been trying to reach the finish line since last summer and, well, I finally thought I saw the light and, BOOM!, a new semester is beginning.

I have met all the goals I had for the fall semester and even more for the holiday break (two submits, a grant report, a final revision of POW!, conference proposals, and service to the University).

I can say, PHEW!, I did alright. On my way home from campus yesterday, however, it hit me, "Wait. Aren't Monday classes being hosted on Wednesday for the first week? Um, isn't that me? today?"

Yup. Time to seriously tune the syllabus (here we go again).

My new 'end of the tunnel' is around 9:30 p.m. this evening after I return from campus and I can say, "Crandall, somehow you made it through the last month getting your #@#$ done!"

I actually took time to enjoy the family, too, from the 19th through 29th - 10 days of semi-sitting still. Even so, As I reflect on the submissions, writing, reading, evaluations, feedback, and reporting of the last month, I'm thinking, "Dude, if people knew your 14-hour days they'd think you're crazy."

Okay. I'm crazy. But it's done.

And today I go back to what I love doing best - teaching. It's year two for Participatory Action Research and I'm looking forward to guiding another class! I learn as much as they do and the graduate students are awesome. Tonight, I will overwhelm them and they will freak out, but it will all be okay. Finding the path they know they can take is the hardest part of the work.

For in-practice teachers, the excitement for such work is everywhere.

Meanwhile, I know my collapse is coming. I am absolutely exhausted.

Hello, Spring semester. Nice to see so many returning.

Grant-Writing Advice, a Colleague I Love, a Christmas Pen, and Thankfulness to the Great Whatever.

What's better than seeing a post by Kelly Sassi in the wee hours of the morning naming the she's excited about teaching a new grant-writing course? The fact that I stopped everything so I could make a 15-week guide for suggesting things she might want to remember and then receiving a text from her that she hung the advice on her Writing Wall. 

That is wonderful, as is she. It made my Monday that much happier (because the plot thickens on keeping secrets of who I am reading and guessing who the author might be - I figured it out but must keep quiet until 2022. Seriously! Two years. That's how long I have to contain my excitement, although I'm already plotting collaborations and possibilities...they are endless).

Meanwhile, back to Dr. Sassi:

Bryan Ripley Crandall’s Syllabus Advice for K. Sassi’s Grant-Writing Course

• Week One - The Art of Pouring your Heart Out
• Week Two - Becoming Best Friends with Excel and Tapping Your Inner Accountant as a Literacy Scholar
• Week Three - Understanding University (or lack thereof) Support aka If You Get It, There Will Be Love…Don’t Talk to Us Until You Get It
• Week Four - Writing in Community Partners and Colleagues; Chasing them to Send Their Bios
• Week Five - Projecting Timelines for the Work 365 Days From Now - aka the Crystal Ball and Magical Thinking
• Week Six - Uploading Materials onto Whacky Platforms - Allowing 14 Days of Practice
• Week Seven - Spring Break - How to Live in a Campus Office.
• Week Eight - Drafting Letters of Support from Busy Community Partners to Sign
• Week Nine - Signature Chasing…How To Catch Campus Administrators for their John and Jane Hancocks.
• Week Ten - Edit, Revise, Edit, Revise, Edit, Revise, Collapse, Repeat
• Week Eleven - Working with Friends & Relatives to Understand Why You’re Distant, Reclusive, & Sometimes Miserable.
• Week Twelve - Searching for 20 Additional Outlets for Grant Requests in Preparation of Typical Denial
• Week Thirteen - Making Notes for the Dossier To Explain How Grant-Writing is Part of the Research Process
• Week Fourteen - The Serenity Prayer & Other Mantras
• Week Fifteen - Proposals Due. The Myth of Sisyphus

I should also note that I was invited to serve on a panel for residential assistants and talk about my career choices and ambition. I didn't prepare notes, but was thankful when I came across pens my nephew Dylan got me for Christmas. They came in handy while sketching notes about what I wanted to say to address the questions.

I LOVE THIS PEN...it has the perfect flow and grace across lined paper.

I also enjoyed answering questions on the spot about choosing to be a teacher, moving into higher education, and engaging in community work with CWP-Fairfield. I'm not sure I stop to reflect enough, so speaking in front of a house of undergraduates gave me opportunity to recall how I came to be where I am today.

It's luck. There's passion, too, and drive. But I will say until the end...it's luck. I'm a lucky son of a Butch.

A Writer, Wonderful Sun, Meat on the Grill, Groceries, NFL Football and a Really Good Bottle of Cabernet.

Not only did they run out of A Girl, A Raccoon, and the Midnight Moon by Karen Romano Young at yesterday's book signing in Bethel, Connecticut, but all the raccoon cookies were eaten before I got a chance to try one, too.

Drat! Spoiled again!

Ah, but so wonderful to be at an independent book seller, Byrd's books, with a writer who I have grown to admire since last summer. I witnessed, first hand, how her illustrations and creativity made a tremendous difference in the lives of 20 teachers who learned from her work.

Go, Karen Romano Young, Go!

In a matter of one presentation, my teachers went from writers to illustrators to doodlers to out-of-the-box thinkers to classroom change-agents. It was wonderful to witness.

Seeing Karen Romano Young was the highlight of my Sunday, although I had to leave crestfallen without a copy of the new book. In time, I know I will get one. Reading Raccoons are good friends with Philosophical Frogs.

And, the weather decided to offer me a wonderful run and the desire to grill out, so I sizzled a few steaks for Edem, me, and Aidas, the senior on the basketball team who traveled with Hoops4Hope to Zimbabwe in the summer of 2018.

Steak on the grill in January is extra special. So were the grilled vegetables. You'd think it was July.

But this morning we have a Monday, and although I worked all weekend on conference proposals, I now have to get back to syllabi and coursework.

Phew. 70 degrees and humor from the author, "I'm so happy you all braved the weather to join me in this book signing."

It was a great day.

Been An Interesting Week Of Knowing Life Happened, But Having to Tell Myself Nothing Happened

How else do you spend a week of confidentiality, but with a book set to be published in 2021 that you're unable to tell anyone about.

That's my life. "Crandall. We want you to read this text and give the author feedback, but you can't let anyone know you have this work or talk to anyone about it."

Um, okay.

And they sent it to me in Word document for feedback. That's how I spent my Saturday.

It's good...real good, but I can't write about it, talk about it, or think about it until it is released. They didn't say anything about hinting and tiptoeing around the fact that I read it, however.

How is that for a teaser? Seriously...I love that my life has become this, but I think it's a bigger test of my loquaciousness. The Great Whatever is trying to see what I can compartmentalize and what will cause me to go over the edge with excitement.

What they don't know is that I am a talker, yes, but I've been good my whole life at keeping my mouth shut when I have to. It isn't that difficult. I like to talk and laugh and share and humor and be friendly, but I am loyal when asked.

This book is going to the back burner. I gave my feedback and now I will move on until it is released. I can't wait for it, and my planning has already begun. Until then, shhhh.

Why? Because Glamis is sleeping comfortably upon the couch. She gave up on me because I wouldn't tell her a thing.

She can wait, too. 

The Shoe Game of Professionals (Actually, the Shoe Game and the Sock Game). Let The Weekend Be Kind

It's the little things in life. My colleague had on leopard print shoes and I happened to be wearing my zebra stripes. She was like, "You want a photo of what?" and I'm like, "The foot game of course. I need to document for my own sanity."

As my days go forth, I'm always thinking about something that might catch my attention so I have something to pontificate later one. My life has been extremely eventful the last 7 days, but 100% not eventful enough for sharing, so I've had to use my ingenuity to get through the week to offer a daily reflection.

I think I've done very well.

It is Saturday morning. We are experiencing unusually high temperatures and my entire goal is to breathe outside, get fresh air and to write conference proposals, a book chapter and syllabi.

It's okay, Bry. You're actually working forward to getting back to the pace set by you and the responsibilities you carry on your shoulder.

I also need to break from Sodexo food, especially the cookies that I have no will-power to resist. And because others do, I am constantly lured towards them because I don't want them to go to waste.

I know there are self-help groups for this.

Okay, Saturday. Be good to us all.

Because It Is Friday, Do I Have The Right To Join My Friend Jennifer, Where the Sidewalk Ends

Yesterday, my friend Jen who does similar work as me in Georgia, but is far superior and way ahead in achievements, posted a photo of a sidewalk that actually ended. She was out for a 2-mile run, but the runway disappeared. I laughed, and made this image, to allude to Shel Silverstein's work of the same title.

Don't push me cuz I'm close to the edge,
I'm trying not to lose my head.

I'm trying not to be on the edge. I've maintained myself through a challenging week and I'm thrilled - 120% of the way - for everything that this week just was. Still, with exhaustion, another day ahead, and with anticipation of this weekend (to catch up for a week given to service) has me wondering if the cliff will collapse.

Ha. Yes, the Sidewalk Ends. I'm faithful, I'll find a path to take.

In the meantime, I can say that I'm not sure I've every had professional development, insight, human understanding, and curiosity about all experienced this past week. It's an intersection of psychology, the arts, writing, politics, biology, rhetoric, communication, religion, medicine and philosophy. It definitely is a window into humanity and just when you think you understand logic, reason, truth and normal, a whole branch of illogical and curiosity introduces itself to you.

You just shake your head and try to make sense, because everyone surrounding you is trying to do the same. The goal, always, is to be objective, but being objective through the lens of everyone else's subjectivity and the strange and somewhat alarming misrepresentation of others, makes you stop in your place and think, "Okay. This is the new reality for today. I get it now. But what do I do with this knowledge?"

The sidewalk doesn't end. There's always more to the journey and that is where I'm going with my end of the work week into, well, my work weekend (I need to catch up all I lost this past week).

Phew. I entered the week thinking one way. I'm leaving it understanding a whole universe of seeing the grandiose complexity of everything with new lenses and insights.

I'm guessing this is a good thing.

When Holed Up In a Chamber of Good Causes (& Can't Get Out) - A @writingproject Blessing Arrives via Text

At the core of everything I do is teacher-leadership, and sometimes I simply forget what this investment actually is. For so many years, since 2001, I've been a Louisville Writing Project fellow (now CWP Director) and I forget how one summer of National Writing Project work can totally turn one's career around. It did mine. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was being transformed into a leader for my school, district, and state. Wait. I'm now national. Phew. How did that happen?

I've been knee-deep in University service this year and, for the first time, am not kicking off the new year with a K-12 school series of PD. Instead, I'm working with my own campus and doing my part there.

That is why I'm super excited to share this post.

Yesterday, when I got home, Jessica Baldizon and William King sent me these photographs. They were asked to do PD for 100 teachers in their district and, with CWP behind them, they thought, "How might we best do this?"

They recruited students from Ubuntu Academy as table discussants and leaders. The kids were able to work with the teachers. What also amazed me is that I saw The Day You Begin by Jaqueline Woodson being presented at one of the tables. It was a year ago yesterday that we revealed that it would be one of two of her  books for One Book, One Town (our summer literacy lab kids were definitely a part of this).

It is just amazing to me, as a Director and recipient of the National Writing Project tradition how powerful National Writing Project work  always is.

In the photographs sent to me, I recognize the total engagement, the appreciation, and the interest of recipients receiving the PD. I love seeing young people teaching teachers how they learn best. 100s of teachers learning from the students who are discussing literacies initiatives that make them stronger.

And I wasn't there. I didn't need to be. Why? Because the National Writing Project invested in me, and I paid it forward to Jessica and William. They, of course, are paying it forward to their colleagues.


I like to be there for the beautiful moments, witnessing the work WORKING. I LOVE seeing it at work, simply because it DOES work.

I know that so many districts bring in this or that expert (and their team) and teachers leave thinking professional development is never professional development (it's simply a roll-your-eyes, detached day or afternoon having to be endured).

Yet, when the National Writing Project model rolls in: teachers teaching teachers or, in this case, students teaching teachers, WOLA!

Joy.

If we could simply sell Joy to superintendents across the nation, maybe we could create a revolution in America's K-12 schools. Perhaps we should start with Principals. Teachers get it. The kids...well, they're the experts, and they get it.

Joy. A 3-letter word. So much better than so many 4-letter words teachers use when leaving PD at their schools.

Absolutely LOVED everything about these photos that were sent to me yesterday.

Congratulations, William and Jessica!

Perhaps More Lists of Why Life Is Beautiful Are Needed By All. Not Quite Sure If That is a Worthwhile Distraction, However.

I saw Schindler's List when it made its rounds to artsy-fartsy theaters and after it won all the awards. I was all by myself in the theater and, similar to my readings of other war stories (and what results from them), totally captivated. Emotional even.

Fast forward, Schindler's List was a movie commonly shown to Juniors during our Holocaust unit after reading Night and Dawn and Day by Elie Wiesel. The conversations are always difficult. Conflict is harsh. The Holocaust was humanity showcasing itself at some of its worst moments in history.

In 1997, the movie Life is Beautiful also debuted, and it covered the same time of history, but demonstrated a father's drive to protect a son from the ugliness of the human condition. Based on the book by Rubin Romeo Salmoni, In the End, I Beat Hitler, the movie offered another approach to facing the ugliness of our species. Choose optimism, love, protection and hope to keep the outlook of a child naive and young.

For years, I debated whether or not Schindler's List or Life is Beautiful is the correct film to end the conversations the Holocaust introduced to the students. Movements by populations of human beings to target and ostracize other populations of humans, including their children, makes my heart sinks. My work with the young people I've been fortunate to know and learn from has offered me endless stories of life where individual populations have been targeted. Reminder: We already have the largest refugee population on record; I worry we'll create more.

Mythologies recruit. Goals of democracy, togetherness, and shared humanity go out the window.

I know life is beautiful,

• I've been a teacher for over 25 years. I know the love and benefits of supporting a democratic conversation,
• I'm blessed to parent and mentor many. The joy and bliss of this is immeasurable. I wish safety for every parent and every child in every country and under every political system
• I've benefited from the fruit of hard work; although I question 'why bother' much of the time, I readily admit I'm a lucky son-of-a-butch
• Phew. I walk my dog daily (and run just as much) and I'm free to do this without fear (for the most part)
• I'm in a nation that benefits from the privilege of so much: the good, the bad and the ugly
• The sunrises. The sunsets
• I have memories that have filled my heart with total joy
• I've received love fully and given it out just the same
• I've found potty humor in my scattalogical way - Shhhhh....It Happens. I'm used to it.
• I have faith. The Great Whatever is stronger than any stupid human being. We suck. Not the larger plan.

So, on this busier-than-usual Wednesday, following a more difficult Tuesday than anticipated, I'm simply choosing the Life is Beautiful perspective, hoping that a light might shine in the heart of future generations. I'm choosing the power of love. I have no problem if Godzilla then squashes me.

The Good News Is I HAVE to Go to Bed Earlier. The Better News Was Seeing My Thinking on a Meme!

At 9 o'clock last night, I had to get the toothpicks out just to keep my eyes open. It's been a long time since I've set my alarm for 6 a.m., because I've turned into a 7 a.m. wake-up kind-of guy. It's hard for me to believe I used to be at the Brown School by 6:45 in the morning every day.

I am getting up, however, because I have work to do - work that is educational, inviting, inspirational, motivating, and productive. I'm dedicated this week and it's tiring, but rewarding on multiple levels.

I guess that is why I was surprised first when @NCTE posted my "Leading the Call" article for Voices in the Middle to its 90.000 followers, but even more alarmed (in a good way) to see that @VoicesNCTE put my thinking on a #Meme and pushed it out in the universe. For over 24 years, I've been lucky to be a K-12 teacher, first in a high school, then as a researcher, and now through my professional development and summer work with CWP-Fairfield. The Brown School did me right. There's no learning without an exceptional community...one that has to be built by the commitment of many. For me in KY, it also came from the Louisville Writing Project, mentors, my students, and the Department of Education. Writing was everything and everyone was committed to it.

I have to remember that most have not experienced the remarkable portfolio days in Kentucky where K-12 teachers taught writing in every subject and students had to write in multiple genres every year. It was so normal for us, that we didn't realize how special it was. The State of Kentucky was ahead of the game at that time. I loved every second I had teaching in the state.

Then, I met the boys. I met scholars Kathy Hinchman, Kelly Chandler-Olcott and Marcelle Haddix. I became an intellectual offspring of theirs and the rest is history. The work I'm doing in Connecticut is a no-brainer. Why? Because I experienced what works.

Community. Community. Community.

For an individual writer to succeed, they must be part of a larger community in which their writing can be read. Ha! Why else would I blog for 13 straight years?

I am so thankful to all who inspired me in so many ways (especially the students) and somewhat laugh that my thinking is influential to others - it's common sense to me now. In order to have a strong writing community in school, find ways to have young people write about their out-of-school communities. Guide the expertise they already have. Mentor them to communicate in the genres of varying professions. Encourage their individual voices and original ideas.

Okay, I have to go to work. The link to the article shared on Twitter is: http://ow.ly/E7Zw50xNgXV - they say you teach the grade level where you are mentally stuck (ha! maybe I write for that grade level, too). There's nothing wrong with having a middle school mind!

Only Attallah Knows Poetry Flows - Well, So Does The Hulk and Canisius Hall, But It's Not Poetry Flowing

I will say it here once again, "Someday, I will retire. When I do, I will watch every movie I've ever missed and succumb to television in the ways of others so I will be able to understand the Emmys, Oscars and Golden Globes. I will be able to talk to others about what they see, that I never saw."

This is what I write this morning, as my Subaru and I contemplate the fact that we've lived at the University since the beginning of 2020, as have a few of my colleagues also doing service at this time. The week ahead seems more of the same.

The work has me extremely appreciative to work where I do with the intelligence that goes into the work, though. Always impressed and humbled by the accomplishments of others.

And, I can't complain about the incredible, Truman-show skies that tantalize me from the view of my office window. I imagine that many don't have such scenery to look at on a daily basis, and I'm fortunate that when I need to glance away from a computer screen, this is what I see.

I admit, too, that the morning run was not as cold as the soon-to-be-followed walk with the dog, which arrived with winds from the north and colder air. That romp around the neighborhood actually hurt.

Monday, you have returned, but the good news is that you haven't looked any different than Sunday or Saturday or last Friday. Instead, you simply have a little more of the to-do list complete (with worry that the week ahead might be very difficult for blog posting - it doesn't seem like too much adventure will be occurring as I hunker into the responsibility with others).

So, I enter the world this morning with hope for new learning, growth, and continued professionalism. I also hope that Glamis won't hate me for having her walk much later than she usually does.

On a good note, I hit submit on another project. Now the who-knows is thrown to the Great Whatever. Such is life.

Bagged It! Tagged It! Gave to the Person I Love! Well, Got Groceries, Anyway. Thankful to the New Bags.

Word was out that Connecticut grocery stores no longer provide the plastic bags to carry out groceries from the store. Instead, patrons must bring their own  (and I'm hearing my mother's holiday comment about self-check outs, "Where's my pay stub for doing the work of employees?").

In my holiday loot I received several grocery bags, including a sachet of bags from my older sister, Cynderballz - which are wonderfully large and easy to store.

I actually got groceries a few days ago, but chose to post about this today.

Why? Well, in between University service and editing a piece for publication, I got side-tracked with a call for another piece of writing, and haven't really been that proficient on the Homefront. Although groceries were put away, I didn't cook until last night, reminding me that I took this photo.

The Bills blew it. I watched them on mute as I worked.

And worked.

And worked. I am getting through the volumes of work needing to kick off the 2020 semester, but how can it be day 5 already? This week has been a blur of reading, reading, writing, reading, writing, reading, reading and reading.

The pesky syllabi await in the wings.

Human contact is at its minimum. It's Crandall versus due dates, expectations, and words - always words. What a wonderful career I'm fortunate to be part of.

Okay, Sunday. Your office chair awaits you, knowing that you can't afford to take weekends off. It's a good thing it is comfortable (and Canisius keeps the heat on while everyone is away).

Woke Up Looking Like One of The Who-Ville Teens, but Donned Me Now My Syracuse Apparel and Headed to the Streets. Love 45 Degree Runs

Prioritizing my running routine needs to be front and center in 2020. In 2019, too often the crazy schedule got in the way and I found myself walking the dog as a trade-off to a 5k jaunt. I felt guilty that she was cooped up all day without any exercise, and I prioritized her over my own need to move.

A walk is good and all, but I like to walk AFTER I run.

So, I got up yesterday morning and wrote. When my brain couldn't handle any more, I ran...then I walked the dog. That was, before I went to the office to write some more.

I made progress. I wrote several recommendations, too, in addition to the final edits that needed to occur. I am transitioning to conference proposals and service reviews, but I'm feeling good that the last 48 hours were productive.

Love, too, that my outfit all came together as absolute Syracuse. It's always fun to fun in alma mater attire - rare for Connecticut to see the blue and orange, and on my U of L days, forget about it. I'm sure I'm the only alumni in the region (actually, I should look into that - the proximity to NYC has promise their are other CARDS in the area).

And here's a shout out to the rain day that wasn't a rain day - there was a Niagara Falls mist, but it felt good for the morning run. With no winds, it felt more like running in late March / early April than January. I'm sure the more hectic temperatures and icy roads are coming.

As for The Who-Ville hair. Well? The evidence is in the photo. I love waking up with such style. I inherited my mother's hair, so I know whatever shape it wants to go that it what it will be. It's pin straight and aims to head in the direction of the Heat Miser. I'm okay with that.

Now, for Saturday, I have goals: (1) the holiday stuff will be taken away, even though I read we should keep it up until January 6th, (2) I will do my time at the University preparing for the week ahead, (3) I want to go on a purge of items my house no longer needs - including the fact that in the dining room at this moment are 8 pairs of sneakers from yesteryear that I wore only to match an outfit, and not to run, (4) inspired by my mother and dad's fridge, I want to check labels and get rid of outdated items, (5) more running and another walk, (6) PUT THE LAUNDRY AWAY, (7) gigantic ugh - work on the syllabi for the semester (insert tears here) and (8) you have proposal deadlines, Crandall...people are counting on you.

It hit me while running that this May, I will have experienced as much time away from my Kentucky days as I spent living there. It's hard to believe how quickly time flies by. Still, I'm grateful for every second I spent there, and even more appreciative of the life that has come my way since I departed.

Leap and the net will appear.

I'm thanking Tina for that magnet.