November 1
There’s always the dinner dishes. (“Not that!” She shrieks, recoiling in mock horror.)
1979
Now here I am, doing nothing about my exam tomorrow. What to do? I’ve eaten, had tea, read (and re-read) movie synopses in the TV guide, brushed my teeth, and read the last two weeks of entries in this journal. What next? There’s always the dinner dishes. (“Not that!” She shrieks, recoiling in mock horror.) Maybe a phone call…nah. I hate phone calls more than I hate studying.
Comment 2024
And that’s what we did before doom-scrolling was invented.
1984
Kiddo is 2 1/2 today. Yesterday she talked and chattered like a little girl. The baby is almost gone. I am back on the “one is plenty” loop. I energy is stretched to the limit and has been since Jim started the Christmas hump at the store. I also have some kind of cold that makes me feel awful. (Just week before the conference at the Greenbrier, of course.)
The leaves are falling furiously outside. It’s been an unusually summery fall, and I am sick of being warm. My clothes are boring me. The weather is too muggy. Whine, whine.
Kiddo is awake. The day begins.
1997
Yes, it is time to prepare for the winter holidays. But this time, my preparations will be mindful of my souls’ wishes. I want a less materialistic, more joyful, less stressful, more abundant, less greedy, more giving, less empty, more fulfilling season, from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Day. How will I do it?
Comment 2023
I cannot lie. Mom’s death in June 1997 made holidays sadder but a whole lot less stressful. She had her traditions and expectations that had to be added to our own, at the end of the semester, of all times.
2008
I am in Williamsburg for the southeast region symposium of the Costume Society. It’s been a very nice change of scenery, and it’s great to be away from the election chatter. There are many familiar faces here, including several former students and colleagues.
I am trying to decide how much to attend the symposium (shame on me). My registration includes a pass to the historic area, which I haven’t done in years.
What a dilemma.
2016
Today I tried (and failed) to learn more about dress codes in North Platte in the 60s. It turns out that the schools keep copies of yearbooks, but not student handbooks. Le sigh. So I am hoping that Sharon remembers something about her experiences!
Instead, I plunged into the local history materials at the library, beginning with the months leading up to our departure in 1957. Yay, microfilm. Bigger hooray for a fancy new microfilm reader that can save images to a flash drive. How else could I share with you this gem?
Yes, kiddies, these are the radio and TV offerings available to me on a Tuesday night 59 years ago. (Back when the news was 15 minutes long, not 24 hours.) You can bet I would be watching Phil Silvers and Spike Jones! Sure would beat the election news, wouldn’t it? And remember: without Spike Jones, there's no Frank Zappa, no PDQ Bach, no Weird Al.
Yes, kiddies, these are the radio and TV offerings available to me on a Tuesday night 59 years ago. You can bet I would be watching Phil Silvers and Spike Jones! Sure would beat the election news, wouldn’t it? And remember: without Spike Jones, there's no Frank Zappa, no PDQ Bach, no Weird Al.
2022
Lunch with my friend Sandy is always inspiring. She’s not only an artist (as if that weren’t enough) but also an all-around creative thinker. She always show me new ways to see things, new ways to think. We were talking about writing fiction, something I fantasize about doing but have pretty much decided will never happen. Here’s how she does it: she takes books she loves (most likely a British mystery) and marks it up - edits it, changes the tenses, the pronouns, eventually just about everything. See what I mean about being a creative thinker? I can imagine doing that for a dress pattern (easy!) or a knitting pattern (getting easier), or even a painting or drawing. Bt not with words. It’s an intriguing idea. Almost makes me want to try it. Almost.
Comment 2023
I miss Sandy.
2024
I voted. Now I pray.