May We All Get the Rest That Karal Gets While Falling Asleep Upon My Chest Each Night Before I, Too, Retire

I've mentioned that Karal was adopted and returned 3 times, before she settled into her 4th home - my home.  She's a jumper, a biter, and super excited, so I can imagine how hard she would be to keep in a NYC apartment or with kids. The last owner, in fact, said, "She's a really good dog when she settles down. It's just we can't wait for those moments."

Well, I've not had a problem, although she is biter and jumper. She has a lot of energy and it takes training and patience to get her to be less enthusiastic at life. In my home, she's almost perfect good behavior (until Chitunga comes home, and then she's an out-of-control little sister who wants nothing but to love her big brother). 

We've moved over the last month from barking like a madwoman when she wants to settle into evening sleep, to my adjustment to the couch, where she lays in my lap and falls into a deep, snoring snore. This is new. Although she likes to sit on my shoulders to surveillance the neighborhood from my front porch and she will sleep in my bed, she's not been the cuddling, affectionate type. 

Instead, she barks. And she barks until I go to bed. 

I'm please to say we've turned a corner, however, and Karal now cuddles with me after I type my last words, and sit in front of the t.v. to unwind. I should note. She's training me. I pay astronomical cable bills NOT to watch t.v.. I have, however, moved to the t.v. set at the time she's ready to fall asleep. She joins me, curls up, and zonks out. No barking. Just rest. Calm, cool, collected rest.

"Crandall, I'm just trying to make you a little more human than you are," I hear in her dreams. "Chill out. Relax. It's all good. You can put your computer away a couple of hours before you go to bed. Free your mind."

And I do. Yes, I'm training her, but she's training me, as well. When she calms, I calm, which I greatly need to do. Rather than work from 7 am. until 10 pm, I am allowing myself 9 to 10 to be her pillow, which in return allows my brain to get some stillness. 

I hope we all get such rest. 

Had a Superhero Dream Last Night Where I Landed on Shore From Being Tossed at Sea & Left a Giant Frog Print on the Side of a Building

My dreams have been extra-adventurous of late, probably because I'm moving around less. Last night was a survivor series at sea, where all these obstacles kept coming at us: sharks, ships, pirates, storms, and our crew was dwindling down. The odder part of the dream was I wasn't the protagonist. I was the aging man at the front of the boat. At one point, I leaped onto land and used my frog-tongue to pull everyone to shore. I also jumped from building to building leaving a gooey frog print in my wake. 

One of the characters pulled ashore said, "There goes Frog, again. He's back."

I could analyze the dream until I exhaust it, but I don't want to think about it too much. I simply like having superpowers and to be the silent, non-important character who suddenly arises with extraordinary abilities...almost like I'm Ben from the Umbrella Academy, #6. I just went ape-shit crazy when I was unleashed. It felt good, actually. 

Truth is, it was a stress dream, as I'm trying to survive the month of November. I promised myself that I would not eat gummy frogs for dinner, and I'd be good about picking up good foods so I don't eat crap lying around my office. I need to look good in my superhero tights, should I start running again (the ankle. Oi Vay).

It's fun waking up to dreams that I have to recall and piece back together. I'm impressed that I could project myself as the mysterious man sitting in the corner of the boat not participating in the struggle to survive...just watching. Then, I leaped into action and I was a mad-man taking down the obstacles. Felt good that I was able to accomplish anything in my life these days. My arms were outstretched, I grew gigantic, and that tongue was lethal....a variation of Ben, but green. 

Anyway...another 14-hours a day week, so I need to get my behind in gear. I'm off...limping, but off. 

I Am My Mother's Son, That's For Sure. I'll Call This #3, & Will Keep My Leg Up For Another Day. Dang, Crandall. Ease Up.

Karal thought winterizing the home was a game. Everything I pulled out of the shed she barked and attacked, and everything I moved into the shed she barked and attacked. She definitely feels the need to protect her yard. All the tables, planters, ornaments, and chairs were stored away, and all I had was one more ceramic flower pot and I was going to jump on the elliptical. She and I already walked. 

Alas, Karal was biting at my pant leg, I reached down to get the pot, and when I stepped off the bottom step onto the lawn, I hit a divot that made me twist my ankle and fall to the ground. She has two spots where she digs, and I filled them both. Obviously, I didn't pack it deep enough. I'm on the ground and she's jumping on me like it's a game. It's all good. I got the pot to the shed and then walked into the house. I thought I heard a snap, but there's no bruising or swelling. It's just extremely painful. 

I tied a scarf around wrapped ice to subdue the ankle. I sat for a couple of hours and the pain went away, until I dragged the snow blower to the garage, limping and being cautious. Nope. The pain is there. I then met Chitunga in Wilton at Lil' Pub for a burger. It is fine when I'm not putting pressure on it. 

Definitely not a fan of this mid-life klutziness. 

I am choosing to work from home today, resting the ankle while I do ZOOM calls, grade, and prep for the rest of the week. 

I just want to be in my 20s again where I could run 11 miles a day, felt no pain, and didn't worry that every move I make is going to result in a medical issue. I never even thought about it back then. I just was.

For a short second, I said, "Great. Now a broken ankle," but it doesn't seem to be that bad. I think it just needs a deep massage, more ice, and elevation for the day. I'm rolling my eyes at myself. I hate when such stupid things happen --- and my eye is finally rid of the bloodiness from the snafu three weeks ago! 

Crandall, "You're a mess!"

My Allegeries Thank The Great Whatever For an Extra Hour to Sleep...Those Dang Leaves

It was a beautiful day for the Vicki Soto, and all though I'm disappointed I didn't run, the 5K was was beautiful, especially as we came toward the Long Island Sound and the American flag flew between two firetrucks. There was just shy of 3,000 runners, and it was wonderful to get outside in the morning for such a cause. I'll always be a fan of organizations that invest in teachers and their students, especially with literacy initiatives.

In the evening, we celebrated Oona's 60th by heading to Oxford, CT, for tacos, a frigid evening outdoors, and her tremendously large family. The Kellys go on and on and on. They're everywhere.

Leo made neon on glasses which I sort of liked because they gave me superpowers to fight the cold and to maintain sobriety in case anyone needed a ride home. I am sure a few are feeling very, very rough this morning. 3 to 10 pm is a long time to be liquifying in booze.

Today, I need to complete my NCTE uploads, grade, and finish winterizing the house. It's NYC marathon day and I'm thinking how perfect is for those doing the 26.4 miles between all the Burroughs. The idea of it excites me. The reality of how my joints, muscles, and bones are currently working horrifies me. I wish all my friends who are running a tremendous day. 

The change of time for Daylight Savings had Karal up at the usual time and she'll have to get used to the new schedule. I'm sure she'll figure it out. She and Jake were well behaved while we were away at the party. 

And the turkey rub arrived. Year ??? and I'm still hosting Hard to believe. That food fest is just around the corner. 

Kicks Came In, T-Shirt Picked Up, New Running Pants Ready to Go, But I Don't Need Herman Coming After Both Hendrick and Henry

It kills me, but I know I won't be able to run this morning, although I'm still giving my support to the Vicki Soto 5K - one of my favorite races each year. I will walk it; in fact, I probably can walk it 5 or 6 times. My worry is for the pounding, and re-tearing the tissue wall where my intestines want to emancipate themselves. Even if I was cleared to start running, I know from the few attempts I've made that it's not the wisest idea. 

We'll see how I feel. I've gone a few blocks with Karal here and there and usually stop and say, "Okay. That's enough for today."

In truth, it's the spirit of the race: 1,000s of runners, all the blow-up palm trees and flamingos, the bagpipes to begin the race, the National Anthem, the pinks and green, the beautiful shoreline, the marching bands and cheerleaders - it's just a fantastic way to spend a morning! 

It's also the first year I didn't organize a crowd to run with me. Sad, but okay. We'll get there again.

On a better note, jury duty was canceled by the court. I was thawing the car when the message arrived. That allowed me a day in my office simply getting things caught up. 

Happy Saturday, World. Hope you're finding a way to give back in positive and productive ways.

I Don't Think It Will Work, So I Won't Be Wearing White or Princess Leia Hair Buns Today (Although I Thought About It)

Personal hell is having to sit around on a chair waiting to be called. I'm not a fan of DMVs, doctor's offices, or Jury summons, although I'm dutiful enough to respect courts, should they select me this morning. I am bringing both audio and physical copies of Octavia Butler's Parable of the Sower, something I want to reread before Ibi Zoboi's poetic biography, Star Child, debuts in January. I will be the geek with pods in his ears and a book in his lap at 8 a.m. this morning.

I have vivid memories of my mother's selection to Grand Jury as a kid and how stressed it made her, and how quiet she was and still is about the experience. If selected, I will do what I'm asked to do. A year ago, the case they called me for was dismissed and I was let go. I had no idea they'd quickly be knocking at my door once again. Chitunga, too, has said, "I'm just waiting my time. I put off two-years of summons while in college." His time will come again, too.

Is is good to wish such things for your family members?

Okay. Truth telling time: I'm running a 5K tomorrow (NOT). I'm walking. I don't dare run, but it is a good cause and I want to show my support for the Vicki Soto foundation. I also have a birthday party that follows. I'm not committing to what I'll be doing, but I'm exhausted, and imagine I will celebrate bitgtime. Those of us presenting at NCTE have to have materials in by Sunday, so I know many of my friends are also working on that...nothing like presenting live, and anticipating how you'll be lively two-weeks from now. I'm getting closer.

And, if I'm selected, I have to rethink everything in my life. Something tells me I won't be a desired juror, but maybe I will be. Who knows?

For All the Students Who Made Fun of Me in KY for Never Coordinating or Matching Clothes: Check This Out

It's the cinnamon apple donuts. It has me in love with Autumn like never before...so much so that I bought a couple dozen for my grad students last night. Feeling festive, I chose to dress as the colors I see out my front window. I put the socks next to the sweater, pocket square, and jacket, and I was like, "Dang, Crandall. You can color coordinate, after all. See. That wasn't so hard."

Of course, my goatee looks like the scraggly ass of road-kill possum, but I guess the grays sort-of pull out the colors in the shoes. Well, maybe I need white suede.

I'm just thrilled to be able to dress myself at all these days. Yes, Thursdays are like my Saturdays. I'm exhausted, and typically I work the weekends to get ready for the week. Alas, it's another 7 am. until 8 p.m. this evening....I need to award my jury duty tomorrow with some sort of fanfare. Losing a day to the courts will be hard to recover.

Last night, I had an awesome class teaching text complexity and used Ursulla Leguin once again by pairing it with my SU fellow doctoral pals, now Ph.Ds, and their work on teaching text complexity (woot woot Maria and Kristin). Sometimes I wish I could video tape this particular lesson so Critical Friends could say, "Crandall, what a crock of shit that lesson was," or "Dang. Do you see what just happened in there? That was amazing." 

Bottom line...I navigated the room as the students connect research to practice. The fluidity is amazing and the lightbulbs pop up as if halftime at the Super Bowl. Sometimes I sit back and think, "I can record this and next year they can hit play. It will allow me to move to something else." But each year I change things, tune it a bit, make it better, and watch what happens. 

And last night. They got the swell-dressed Crandall, as opposed to, "Nutty professor with mismatching socks that don't match the tie, Crandall"

Okay. I need to write. Like seriously write. So in 3...2...1

Small, Yet Powerful. Tried a Trick I Used to Do with Seniors Last Night Since So Many Were Absent. We Filled Up the Whiteboards with Possibilities.

Accidents. Covid. Exhaustion. Stress. I'm not sure what's going on, but post mid-mester they are calling out left and right. As a result, I had to change plans a bit with content delivery, so I went with an old favorite: Let's design a question we're asking for a final project and instead of answering that question, let's all go around the room and ask questions of the question. Because we are few, I said, "You need to do at least 4 laps so that every Whiteboard is filled." 

The reading was on Writing to Learn, Writing to Inquiry, and Writing with Exploration, so this oldie, but goodie, activity seemed to work. We used to do it by passing papers with seniors in high school, but there was enough Whiteboards for all in attendance, so we passed our selves around the room.

The activity helped tie course readings to action for the week, while also aiding initial thinking for the final project where they must think like writing instructors, designing lessons and curriculum that will best help students achieve written outcomes. As always, I'm pushing them to think through, "How will you help ALL kids to reach the outcome you desire?"

I'm always amazed how quiet it gets when doing this activity and how helpful it ends up becoming as students design their projects. "Hey, if someone asked the question of your question, you might want to have an answer for it in the final project, no?"

Meanwhile, day 3 of 14-hours is ahead. The cherry on the week is jury duty on Friday. I look like I was hit by a truck because, well, it's that time of year. I know this because my psoriasis are on fire, spitting dragon flames through my pants. Nature's way of showing stress when I simply want to appear like I'm on top of everything. 

Okay. Better post this...have to hit the first meeting by 8. 

I Donut Know How I'll Get To Everything on My Agenda This Week, But I Do Know I'm Inspired by Apple Cinnamon Buddies as I Work

It's November. I haven't turned on the heat yet, but I've made it to the 1st and know that it's okay if I do. I made it to the target date. No, I don't adhere to the sticker that my dad kept above his downstairs thermostat, May all you ecological bastards freeze to death in the dark, but I am a bit apprehensive of doing winter before I have to.

And I'm thankful for bakeries that have hosted freshly made cinnamon-apple donuts at their counters because I've indulged and been eating them for breakfast each morning at 7 a.m. with my cups of coffee. This is joy. Absolute joy. The taste of fall and the flavor of the season. I'm not a Starbuck's pumpkin sort (latte what?), and I don't go berserk for pies, but I do love the seasonal donut (in the evening Winterfest brews). I welcome them to join my home. 

Conference season is upon us, as are the end-of-the-semester, second-half games. It seems to be one meeting after another in anticipation of all still to come.

Exhausted? Getting there. But how can I complain if I keep a stock of apple-cinnamon donuts in the house?

Of course the grass needs another mowing, and summer tools need to be replaced with winter ones. I spent a portion of a break I took yesterday putting together an elliptical. I'm hoping it will give me reasons to sweat during the colder months, even though I'd rather be running. I'm just not there yet. In fact, I picked up my Vicki Soto 5K bib yesterday and was sad to know I'll likely have to walk it, rather than run it. My spirit will come from participating in the back, but I'll be there...

...perhaps carrying a donut and a mug of coffee, even though I shouldn't. Ah, it is what it is. Happiness wherever and whenever I can get it.

I Always Snap Photos in Anticipation of What I Will Blog About, But When I Looked at This One This Morning...Well, I Have a Definition for Life. These Moments...

Halloween turned out rather great. I woke up, binged on a Facebook Marketplace purchase (a gym elliptical...I love when rich people indulge and don't really need things), grilled for the week, and hiked with Chitunga along the Sound. I also gave away 420 pieces of candy and 120 books. Great to see life moving forward again. 

Ah, but the photo. I'm always snapping images because I never know what I want to write about at the end of the day, and Chitunga came in from Stamford for father/son time. I was photographing the clouds, when I asked him to step in. Ironically, we were talking about The Great Whatever, a purpose to life, regionality, having an intent, and the power of love. This morning, when I was going through photos I took yesterday, I thought to myself, "Dang. This photograph captures everything I believe in.

I think I might be recovering. I was able to keep up with Chitunga and Karal's Legolas-pace and I enjoyed every second of our conversation and bonding. I love the water, the sky, the colors in the rock, and the way the light hits. I welcome anyone and all who can paint to replicate this picture for me. I am now thinking this is exactly the color scheme I want in my bedroom. It's this...the way light hits the Long Island Sound and the kid...well, adult. 

My purpose and meaning. My meaning and purpose. All of it.

I have to say, of all the trick or treaters who came to my house last night (there were 100s and it ended at 8:15 p.m., thank God), the moment that captured me the most was from a group of 4 African American, middle grade males...perhaps junior high. I gave them each a book and they said, "This is interesting. Can we have another. We all like to read." So, I opened up several boxes for them to choose. One kid said, "This is like the magic house." 

That's totally why I wanted to give away books. I did give away candy, too. There was the girl who said, "Books are stupid. Can I have another Snickers bar?" Of course. Just make your heart happy, kid.

I'm just thankful for today: my new elliptical, time with Chitunga, the happiness of kids, most kids, getting books in their bags, and the fact that the temperature, sky, waterways, and winds were simply perfect. 

Yes, I am going to regret spending two days this weekend avoiding work and responsibilities, but that photo of Tunga. That's all I need.  

Don't forget to vote tomorrow.