February 11

Am I behind? Dunno. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.

1965

Mom let me cut my hair into front bangs tonight. I've been after her to let me since 8th grade. It looks neat! I'm so glad! It turns out that Ringo Starr got married, not Paul McCartney. He's 24 and Maureen Cox, the girl he married, is 18 years old. By the way, you unbelievers of the future, I happen to like the Beatles very much. Grandma had Rudolf Valentino, Mom had Nelson Eddy, Aunt Rosie had Frank Sinatra and I've got the Beatles!

Comment 2023

I certainly got a little creative there. Mom was indeed a huge fan of Nelson Eddy; next to the Sousa marches to wake us up for chores on Saturday morning, her favorite recording was “Indian Love Call”, from Rose Marie. As for the rest, I made them up. It is unlikely that my very pious, very busy preacher’s wife grandmother ever saw a Rudolf Valentino movie. (My thrice married, free -spirited other grandma might have, between relationships, but I was clearly imagining my mother’s side of the family.) My Aunt Rosemary, the youngest of Mom’s six sisters, was the right age for Sinatra, but I hadn’t seen her since I was four, and we hadn’t discussed crushes at the time.

And bangs. As I have mentioned before, I fought an ongoing battle with my hair until finally realizing that it would do what it was created to do. Sometimes wavy, sometimes curvy (but only in places), sometimes sticking straight out from my head (but only in places). Sometimes, if the weather was right, all of the above, with a frisson of frizz. My bangs usually flipped out and up, away from my forehead. I tried it all: cellophane tape, Dippety-Do, bobby pins and hair clips. All I got was half an hour of perfect bangs, and then - BOING!

The alternative to bangs is my big ol’ forehead. I choose unruly bangs. Sometimes I even get to be the girl with a little curl somewhere on my forehead.

1982

It’s been cold on my morning walk to school, but it’s a good walk. It gets me to the library before I get to the office and get distracted. Just three more weeks before spring break (hooray). 

I want to move the bookcases and paint the nursery then, and have the dressers sanded and stained. Then I can strip the white dresser and sell my old dresser. Make the curtains while the bassinet is being painted. We can rig up a desk in the hall and roll my sewing machine into the bedroom. Then it will be all done and ready, hopefully by the last day of classes in May.

Good morning, sweetheart! It just kicked for the first time today. Time to get dressed and go.

Comment 2024

I get a chuckle out of all this planning. Kiddo #1 arrived two weeks before the last day of classes, and I cherish the photo of a dazed-looking Jim holding her in the hospital, a to-do list sticking out of his pocket.

1987

Kiddo 2 slept all night 2 more times. His idea of “sleeping through the night is until 5 or 5:30, but oh, well. He has also graduated to 6 months size clothes. Half of his sleepers are too small. I think I am getting used to having 2 kids around. Especially two such nice kids.

1997

The grit in the oyster. I feel it very, very much. Life will improve, under my power and efforts. I will the light. Let there be light.

Comment 2023

The entry from this day in 1997 caught me up short. I wasn’t sure whether or not to include it. 1997 was a tough year. Actually, the 90s were a tough decade. My department was eliminated in 1992. My father died in 1994.  Jim’s employer went bankrupt and closed in 1995, beginning several months of unemployment and financial worries. His mother died in 1996. I didn’t know it when I wrote that entry, but my own mother would be gone in June. One of the kids was struggling in school and I felt like the worst mother and the stupidest educator in the world, unable to help them. 

Later that year, I bought myself a copy of Sarah Ban Breathnach’s Simple Abundance : a daybook of comfort and joy, and on January 1, 1997, I resumed my daily journaling habit in an effort to find some kind of sanity, if not peace, in my crazy life. It did help, to the point that when we moved three years ago, I got rid of the book. So I can’t completely recall her reading for today. Something about oysters, grit, and pearls, evidently. I wanted to believe that I could will things to improve. All I know for certain is that they eventually did, with or without my help.

1998

(I graduated from Simple Abundance to The Artists Way and “morning pages”.) It is odd doing this at night. During the day, my mind is full and active, and I struggle to focus on the page. But now, at nearly 11 pm, I am pretty relaxed. My brain doesn’t feel empty, but full of cement or maybe congealed oatmeal. Heavy and thick. Oddly enough, I am enjoying the physical act of writing more than usual. I watch the words form on the page and feel like I am watching a scene in a movie. 

Tomorrow would be Mom’s 76^th birthday. How can I observe it? I wish I could remember what we did last year; probably just a phone call. I’d love to hear her voice again.

2004

This has been an excellent day so far. I completed the first draft of my book review. I revised the AMST 201 roster spreadsheet, which was annoying and time consuming but now DONE. I have to think about the Northwestern HS PTSA meeting this afternoon. I am not sure I have the time (or energy) to be as prepared as I’d like. I feel like I could take the rest of the day off. But I can’t. Pooh.

2009

2-3 hours of writing a day? 2-3 hours of research?

Didn’t happen. Am I behind? Dunno. I write or do other computer work until 11 or 11:30, noon if I am really on a roll. Then I have lunch. If I can catch a nap after lunch, I can sometimes get some work in before dinner. After dinner? No hope. 

My plans are hazy. Even last night, as I went to sleep, I was deciding whether to stay home and write, go to Marymount U or to the Library of Congress. I decided to stay home, because I am more behind in writing than research.

2021

Wednesday

My purple pen died. (RIP Purple Pen.) Finished a sock. Found old notes. Purged some digital detritus. Zoomed with friends. Slept like a rock.

2024

Staying home from church today to get some writing done. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.