February 6
I’m learning and doing interesting things!
1965
I had nothing to do except my work all day. I'm bored stiff. I have nothing to sew! I figure this summer if I don't work at Camp Maria Pratt I can do sewing in my home for people around the here. It would have to be on a first come, first served basis. I could make a few bucks for the bank. Tomorrow I go to New York city - whoopee! Now I'll really have something to write about in this puny diary.
1967
I’m a work-study girl now! I work at the New Milford Times as an “editorial assistant”. No pay, but I’m learning and doing interesting things!
Marcia and I went to a concert at school Thursday night. The entire Canterbury School was there; they were required to come. I was sitting them Marcia when a guy (Bob) came up to talk with her. He said why didn’t we come down during intermission. He’s a junior I guess. Nice guy. Funny as all get-out.
Comment 2024
Canterbury was the very fancy private Catholic boarding school that sat on a hill above the Green in New Milford. Very tantalizing. Rich preppies, all cooped up. An evening mingling with the public school townies was pretty exciting for all of us.
1978
I finished the sequel, “Claudius the God”. Good Lord, what a feat. I mean, that was a lot of reading in two days! I got my rejection from Danforth. No one likes to be rejected, although I don’t feel personally let down. I do not look forward to notifying the people who recommended me, however. It was hard to tell my dept chair. But she asked if I’d heard anything, and so I told her. That was that.
1983
Today in church, Paul spoke on the idea of materialism. His words struck a chord in me, a very old chord. For a long time I’ve been wondering how much clothing is necessary for me. I’ve also been wondering how my life could be made less stressful and more savory. Now I want to make a beginning - - to try to figure out where the fat is in my life, in my possessions. Paring down can serve two purposes: improving my life and using my “found surplus” of energy for better things.
This will probably go the way of all my other self-improvement projects, from thinner thighs to better piano skills. In which case, I will have lost nothing; it won’t hurt to try. But where to start? Maybe books. How do I stop acquiring more than I can read? Or should I learn to speed read so I can read everything I acquire?
Kiddo just accidentally (?) picked out the first few notes of the “Close Encounters” theme on the piano. Weird.
1987
Of course, after sleeping through the night a couple of days ago, Kiddo 2 hasn’t repeated the experience since. Oh well…eventually, he will. This new desktop has transformed my attitude toward the upstairs office. It’s a much, much better work space now. I find my self drifting here several times a day. What a difference a nice BIG desk and a comfortable chair make! And not a day too soon. I have lots to do and little time to do it. (Especially compared with my pre-Kiddo 2 days.) But I am getting back to the swing of things. At least I don’t feel like a zombie anymore.
Comment 2024
I <3 a big desk.
1996
After more thinking I’ve decided to get out from under the Director of Graduate Studies job. To do it well, I would need to “go back to graduate school” before I can advise new American Studies scholars. Not doing it.
Comment 2024
This was three years after the textiles department evaporated and I was transferred to American Studies. Just as I was establishing myself in one field, I had to start over in a totally different one. In 1994, after a two semesters teaching *four* new courses, they wanted me to direct graduate studies, so I could “learn the basics” of the discipline. I did, for a while.This was the point where I gave up on “becoming an American Studies scholars” and did other things: directing an undergraduate living-learning program, becoming a cyberprof. My only research and writing was in “the scholarship of teaching”. All the time, well aware that none of these things would be rewarded by the university in any way. No merit increases, no promotion. Read on…
1997
Yesterday got lost in the rush. Kiddo 1 needed ride, I skipped breakfast, had a non-lunch, worked in two different buildings, drove to Annapolis and back, just in time for College Park Scholars colloquium. Colloquium was horrible, with one loud, rude group of students haranguing me about how much work they had. Luckily I had a Phil-ins rehearsal that night. Singing makes it all better.
2004
Still feeling unsettled. My mind keeps revolving around promotion. How much do I care about being a full professor? Why do I care? What am I willing to do about it, including what am I willing to give up?
I keep coming back to what I said to someone about my plans after getting tenure, in 1987. I said I was not going to write any more crap. The textiles department rewarded articles, not books, so I churned out five a year. What I meant was no more of those articles that were an embarrassment to see in print. In truth, that was most of them, except for the clothing and gender stuff. Those were deep and thoughtful, based on careful research. But they were few and far between. Thank heaven for the opportunity to contribute to “Men and Women: Dressing the Part”. I spent too much time trying to produce a history of American children’s clothing, when I should have been just focusing on the history gender conventions in children’s clothing.
Indeed. As if I need a new project.
2012
Great beer dinner last night at Old Line. Unfortunately the great beer has fuzzed up my brain considerably this morning. But I did get up and take notes on those two chapters. I rather like the MW teaching schedule, and the feeling that the “campus” week ends on Wednesday.
Still worrying about Kiddo 2 in the middle of the night.
2018 (First year of retirement)
I have been sliding or hibernating or running away. Take your pick. So it is time to get on track. Forget getting “back on track”. There’s no track to get back on. Wish me luck.
2023
Just read the 1965 entry. Bored stiff, with “nothing to do” except housework? Sounds familiar.
A few days ago, I finished both of my knitting projects and the book I was reading. This is not supposed to happen. Typically, I have enough balls in the air to keep me occupied every waking moment. Fortunately, I have this writing thing going on.
I tell people I am writing, and they always want to know what I am working on. If they know about The Abandoned Book, they ask if this is The Book. This is not a book. It’s a core sample. You see these notebooks?
That’s fifty years of journaling, and just the hard copies. There is also a digital file of about 20,000 tweets, and other internet scribblings. For every February 6, for every July 4, for every 9/11, there are moments frozen in amber. Stacks of them. A lifetime supply.
I started two new fiber projects yesterday, and am several chapters into a new book. (Reading, not writing). And today I wrote this, such as it is. Also, I noticed the dust bunnies in the corner of the bathroom.
Hello, dust bunnies.
2024
As expected, February 6 was a doozy: eleven entries. So why not add one more, for an even dozen? I have a new planning/organizing/tracking scheme. Like all my other schemes (too many to count), it is working for now. I finished the orange hat and have started a new oatmeal and green one. The Star Island Arts Week sent an email with workshop descriptions: a very enticing-sounding movement class and BASKET WEAVING, which I have wanted to learn for years!!!!!!
I’m an overachiever today! There’s a new post on my other Stack, too.
