2007 The Year in Pictures

Last year was pretty exciting for Kimberly and I. We drove all over the country, including a move from Portland to Iowa. We spent two months in Italy eating and drinking everything in sight. And we got a niece, 1900 (who, coincidently, kind of looks like a pumpkin right now, because of her red hair and chubby cheeks).

1900 with her grandmother Nonnina

As part of a project I was working on in December, I went through pretty much every picture we took last year (and pretty much every picture I've taken since I was 6). Since I already did most of the work, I uploaded some of the ones I thought were the best of the bunch to Flickr.

Most of them are from our trip to Italy.

Some you may have seen before.

Some are a peek into future posts.

Some are technical.

Some are dramatic.


There's a bunch more on the Flickr page: my preferred viewing method is the slide show.

Hope you enjoy.

Happy Holidays

Kimberly and I are on a bit of a holiday over these holidays. We're hanging out with my family, eating too much food and bewildered at all the snow here in Boston.

We'll get back to some posting when we get back to Iowa. One of my New Year's Resolutions will be to post more regularly, so we'll see if that lasts past January 15th, like my gym membership.

Hope you're having a nice holiday, and keeping warm, wherever you might be.

I'll leave you with this picture of Kimberly and our niece 1900 to warm your heart. Not even the Grinch can make you sad after seeing this picture.

One down, seven to go...

Well, it's over. Done. Finito. Phew...

The semester is finally done. It's official. My grades are submitted (all 50 of them). The portfolios have been read, the finals reviewed, the math double-checked (thank you Excel). I've been done with my own work since Thursday, and so this means I'm actually DONE!

Want to know my dream plans for the break? My secret aspirations?

I ordered 5 books from Amazon and none of them are school related. Whoopie!! Thousands of pages of relaxation. Now if only they arrive soon.

Of course, I have two new preps next semester that I need to lesson plan for, and three crazy-hard classes of my own that I need to start studying for before classes begin (yes, we PhD students start studying BEFORE classes start, that's just how geeky we are). So the break won't be all rest. But, that's okay, any break at all is welcome right about now.

See you in a few days, I'm sure I'll have to stop reading at some point!

A Point for the Middle

For the most part, I haven't been too nice to the Middle on these here interwebs. It's not that I don't like it here, it's just that I like to complain, a remnant of my east coast upbringing that I don't think will ever abandon me, no matter how hard Kimberly wishes. Despite the terrible drivers, extreme weather, and difficulty finding things we have become accustomed to having (like feeling in our extremities), we are settling in with our very nice, terribly coiffed (like I can really say anything about anyone's hair), very Christian, Midwestern brothers and sisters.

So, I come here today not to fault the Middle, but to praise it, for there is something here in Iowa which I could not find in Portland: a dingy, cheap, sketchy, wonderful Italian grocery store.

You may remember a while back when we discovered that there was some notoriety for Italians in Capital City. Well, I finally made it to their neighborhood (on the recommendation of a friend in Portland who is originally from Iowa) and found the wonderful Graziano Brothers market in South Des Moines.

Grazianos was great - cinder block building, no windows, haphazard parking lot - and was packed pretty tight with basic Italian staples. There were 20 different kinds of canned tomatoes, 10 different kinds of roasted peppers, 50 types of dry pasta, lots of fresh pasta (including ravioli and tortellini), fresh pizza dough, parmigiana cheese, panettone, and pretty much anything else you could want from your Italian specialty market. They had fresh bread that wasn't sliced on Wonder. Most importantly, they had a deli with home-made sausage, bulk olives, and fresh cut meats, including wonderful prosciutto and salami.

Of course, you can get all these things in Portland. Except that the prosciutto will cost you $30 a pound. At Grazianos, just $15. And in Portland, the chances of the counter help speaking Italian to the customers is low. Here, there were actual Italians, and the were being their typical Italian selves (cutting in line, throwing the elbow, etc). I still don't know how they get here, but apparently they're here. And I 'm not going to complain.

The next step is to find out if there's any good pizza down in that neighborhood. Making my own dough is fine, but can get old. And don't even get me started on the local 'pizza' places (if they didn't serve wings, there would be no reason to go there). There's an Italian Festival over the summer, where I'm sure they'll have pizza, fried dough (but they'll probably call it funnel cake), and sausage subs (here in Iowa, they call them Guinea Grinders, which no one finds interesting or offensive in the slightest way).

While I might have to wait for the ground to thaw before I can check out the festival or the pizza, I know that tonight I can have some prosciutto and good bread.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

So, this snow thing. It's going to stop soon, right?

No?

It's snowing again today. At the moment, it's a balmy 12 degrees out (Fahrenheit) and I'm watching out my office window as the snow piles up again across campus. This makes the third dumping of snow this week. And, while it sure is nice to have all that ugly gray snow covered up by the pretty white stuff, I'm awfully tired of slipping and sliding and landing on my ass. Not fun!

Send us your warm thoughts and hot cocoa dreams...

(Finals this next week too- the end is in sight!)

Things I'll Miss About Oregon: Volume 12 [Sitka Spruce]

When we got married a few years back, we spent our 'honeymoon' on the Oregon Coast in the nice little town of Manzanita. To get out to the Coast, you head west from Portland on Highway 26, up and over the Coast Range, until you hit Canon Beach and Highway 101. Right when you come down from the Coast Range, you hit a flat spot in the road. It's along this flat spot that you will find the World's Largest Sitka Spruce tree.

We had driven out to the Coast a bunch of times. I always contemplated, but never followed through on, stopping at the Sitka Spruce. Kimberly stopped once when she was like 12. On the way home from our honeymoon, I decided to pull into the parking lot. We spent about an hour just hanging out near the tree (it was a Wednesday and we were the only ones there), taking pictures, hiking around. It was pretty fun.

Sadly, on Sunday, the world's largest Sitka Spruce finally fell.

The tree was somewhere between 700 to 750 years old. 50 years ago, it was scarred by a lightning bolt. Then last year, during another storm, a giant chunk fell off, showing that the inside was rotting. The tree toppled this past weekend.

Kimberly in front of the Sitka Spruce. You can see the scar
from the lightning strike on the tree above.

No one really knew when the tree would fall because of the rotting wood. I think most people thought it would stay up a little longer than this.

Anyways, the Sitka Spruce is gone. It's kind of a sad day.

Kimberly pretending to be a hobbit under a
neighboring tree (this is not the Sitka Spruce)

Our First Snow of the Middle

A snowy creek in the woods behind our house.

When we woke up on Saturday morning, there was some strange noises coming from the bottom of the bed. At first, I though it was Miles chasing a rubber band or something. After a few minutes, I realized that something was tapping on the window.

Our backyard

When we rolled out of bed, we found the ground covered in snow and ice raining down from the skies. Kimberly was very excited. Though she has been in snow before, she's never been in an ice storm before. When we went for a walk later in the afternoon, Kimberly was completely enthralled with the icy trees and frozen forest. I have to admit that it's pretty beautiful when the trees are all covered in ice and everything kind of twinkles in the light. It's not as fun when the trees start losing limbs under the weight of the ice.


Some pics of the ice and snow here (obviously), some on Flickr (if you're interested).

Our apartment is right behind this tree. Ain't the building lovely.

High Class

When we were traveling in Italy, we did a lot of eating and drinking of wine. We tried our hardest to eat and drink whatever was the local specialty.

When we were in Siena, we found a nice little wine shop. The old man inside spoke no English, but he took a liking to us and was opening bottles for us to taste. We were able to determine that he and his family had a small vineyard where they were starting to produce their own wines. The quality was pretty good and the bottles pretty cheap, so we ended up drinking a decent amount of his wine while we were in Siena.

Since they had started making their own wines, they were converting their shop to sell their own wines and were trying to get rid of everything else. In the corner of the store was a 'Everything for 18 €uro' shelf, so I went to investigate while Kimberly and family talked to our new friend. I noticed that there were some pretty nice looking wines, including one of the Italian B wines (in Italy, they have Brunello, Barolo, and Barbaresco wines, which are all of high quality. They rank in a certain order, from most bestest to least best, but I can never remember that order; I just know they're all supposed to be pretty good). There was one that had a price tag on it for 7o €.

Not really understanding the situation, I confirmed with him that everything, and I stressed the everything, on the shelf was 18 €, even if marked with a different price. He said that, yes indeed, all the wine was 18 €.

Since I had never tasted one of the Italian B wines, and since this one seemed to be on sale at an amazingly reduced rate, I decided to spend the money (18€ = ~ $25) and try it out. Kimberly's mom and sister, who were traveling with us at the time, actually carried the wine back to the US for us. I am their debt for this task.

Anyways, last night we decided to open the bottle, since we were having some baked pasta. We figured a nice, Italian red would go perfect.

We opened the bottle and were blown away. The wine was pretty amazing.

After dinner, while savoring the rest of the bottle, we decided to do a little research on the bottle. It turns out the wine was definitely worth the 18€. We could have bought half a plane ticket with that bottle of wine.

Sometimes, you just stumble on a good deal. And fortunately for our taste buds, we jumped at the chance.

Shaky Hands make for Blurry Pictures. The label says:
Poggio all Oro
Brunello di Montalcino
Castello Banfi
Riserva 1995

This Is How They Roll in Iowa

It's miserable here today. It snowed about 1/2 an inch last nght and now freezing rain is falling from the sky. It's the perfect combination as the snow is forming a solid core of ice, making it impossible to leave the house.We'll post some pictures later on.

So to warm everyone up, I present this video. This girl actually has a radio show on the college station here, which I had listened to a few times before someone sent me this video.

There's so many fantastic parts to this video, I can't count them. Although my favorite is when she says "you make me hotter than a stick of hot glue; I'm gonna scrapbook everything we do." If that doesn't sum up the Middle, I don't know what does.

Please enjoy. I am.

The 3:10 to Tucson

A few weeks back, we went to Phoenix to visit my brother's family and to welcome young little 1900 into the family. While we were there, we decided it would be a good opportunity to visit some friends who had moved to Tucson a few years back (about an hour south of Phoenix), and whom I hadn't seen in about 4 years.

After college, a friend of mine from UVM and a couple of his high school friends decided to move to Boston, get jobs, and have a good time in the big city ('big city' in relation to Hartford and Burlington, not 'big city' in relation to NY). The three of them, me, and a friend of mine from high school all moved into a 4+1 bedroom house in Cambridge (with our unofficial sixth roommate, Banana Man). We had a foosball table. We had a basement, and a guy who would occasionally come over and pee in the basement. We were across the street from the greatest dive bar in the history of dive bars. Needless to say, we had some good times.

After a few years, the 262 House started breaking up. Babies and marriages and time all contributed. New guys moved in, but it was never really the same. Rob had moved out before me to live with his girlfriend, Kyrsten, and they would eventually move to Tucson together. Soon afterwards, I left the house and moved to the Northwest.

Rob and Kyrsten are two of the happiest, most positive people I've ever met in my life; if you can find someone who would speak ill of them, I will give you a shiny nickle (dogs don't count, as I know some people who aren't super big fans of Kali). They're created a nice life for themselves in Tucson. They have an awesome house, with a swamp cooler. They have three dogs, that despite the occasional 'dog freak-out,' are pretty cool. And they have an awesome backyard. We spent most of time back there, where Rob cooked up some phenomenal chicken quesidillas on the grill. We sat deep into the night, drinking beers around the fire, reminiscing about old times at the 262, catching up on our lives away from Boston, and listening to Rob's impressive stories about winning chili cook-offs (no small feat for a Yankee from Connecticut living in the Southwest).

The next morning, Rob took us to a small local place for some tasty Mexican breakfast goods. Kimberly could hardly contain her excitement. The food was spicy good, and we certainly ate our fill.

Afterwards, we took a quick jaunt into the Saguaro National Park, which is right on the borders of Tucson. Pictures can't do this place justice. It is one of the more breathtaking places I've been to, right up there with Joshua Tree National Park in California - something about tall, green, statuesque succulents stretching to the horizon in an otherwise desolate place really gets me going.

On the way back to Rob's place, we drive through the 'city' of Tucson and some of the neighborhoods. Overall, it seems like an artsy, funky place - lots of coffee shops, bars, and thrift stores in cool old buildings. Although we didn't get to experience it so much on our feet, it seems that the city has a much more human scale to it than the strip mall concrete that we experienced in the Phoenix area (You can walk places? Aghast!) (am I too hard on Phoenix? People love it there, and I guess I only spent like 3 days there, but I'm not sure. It didn't leave a good first impression with me. Maybe I need to give it another chance).

As we left Rob and Kyrsten and their gaggle of dogs to head back north, we out through the desert and past the Saguaros. Tucson gave me a good sense of why people love the desert - the sense of isolation, the drama of mountains and cacti shooting up in the stark landscape. It will be nice to go back in May and experience the area a little more in depth. Rob and Kyrsten are getting married. Let the party start.

Just a minor interruption...

to tell you that it is 15 degrees outside right now. No seriously. It really is.

that is all.





updated at 2:50...

It has warmed up to a balmy 26 now! Woowee! It's like spring (except not really).

This Baby has Cooler Clothes than Me

Dreaming of Enter The Dragon

A few weeks back, before Thanksgiving break, the two of us took a trip down to Arizona to visit our niece, 1900. While I was not overly impressed with the Phoenix area, it was really nice to get out of the on-coming cold of the middle and spend some time in a 90-degree desert. And it was really nice to finally meet 1900.

To entice everyone to the desert, BtO and S.I.L.K. had a naming ceremony for 1900, even though they're not Jewish; the whole thing was just a really good excuse to throw a party in the very cool Desert Botanical Gardens in Phoenix. Almost the entire immediate family from both sides was there (except for my Uncle Loveday and S.I.L.K.'s brother, who doesn't fly), so it also served as a bit of a family reunion.

My father, BtO, 1900, S.I.L.K., Aunt Youyou, and S.I.L.K.'s father

Needless to say, 1900 is pretty cute. Somehow, two blond-ish parents ended up with a bright red-headed baby. She has enormously large cheeks, which I had to fight against every gene in my body to not pinch. And she has huge [color omitted] eyes. If I had a son, and I wasn't related to her, I would put a down payment on the dowry for her.

My mom, Sister-the-Youngest, BtO, 1900, S.I.L.K. and us.

Since Kimberly and I are 1900's favorite Aunt/Uncle pair (not to mention, the only Aunt/Uncle pair), we had to get her the best gift. I think we did ok:

[Looking back on it, 1900 got a lot of clothes as gifts. It almost makes me wish we had gotten her a book or a stuffed animal or something else different and cool. Although, since all the other clothes she got were pink or white, I figure this nice brown onesie, which goes well with her red hair, will be a nice change for her.]

After the ceremony and some great dinner [please note: I love roast duck, even when it's made with chicken], we went back to 1900's place, where her favorite Aunt and Uncle got to hold and play with her. I was trying my hardest to wake her up, but S.I.L.K. was having none of it.

Me, looking terrible, with two much better looking ladies

The event was a success and a blast. The Botanical Gardens were gorgeous and served as a wonderful backdrop. And 1900 was a charming young lass. It almost makes you want to have one. Almost.

"Shut Up Toby"

[If you didn't watch The Office last night, and care about the show, this post might be considered a spoiler]

The Office has been pretty weak lately - I think the move to a one hour format hurt. I mean, the show is still probably the best sitcom on tv right now, but it was slow going for a little bit there. But last night was a return to form.

The whole deposition was fantastic, and classic Michael Scott. It makes me wish Jan was still the boss and Ryan was just a bit part of the show. My favorite was when the Dunder-Mifflin attorney was reading Michael's journal and asked "who is this girl Ryan? Not as pretty as Jan, but still sexy?" Then Toby started laughing hysterically. That killed me.

The Michael - Toby relationship is one of my favorite parts of the show. Something about Toby's sad-puppy face and Michael being so mean to him just gets me every time.

And the Kelly-Pam ping-pong thing was a nice side story, although I feel like Jim is enough of a geek that he would have been better at ping-pong; it wasn't surprising that Dwight is a ping-pong savant. Kelly talking smack, not trash, to Pam was priceless. It would have been better if Pam was nasty good at ping-pong and just slammed it in Kelly's face every time, totally emasculating Jim in the process.

[Quick Tangent: Due the writer's strike, it appears The Office will be running out of new shows here in the near future. Apparently, NBC is thinking of showing the original British version of the show to finish the season. I think this is a great idea, and maybe the only good thing to come of the strike ( I miss you Daily Show ). While I really enjoyed the Brit version, I think the length of the American version has allowed it to pass the Brit version. The Brit version has more painful awkwardness with the boss, but the American version has a better supporting cast. And Dwight K Schrute.]

Oh the weather outside is frightful

A long time ago in a temperate place, I got some advice about my future. Dr Athlete (from City U) used to live in our new home town and had much advice. "It's going to be cold" she said. She even gave us an ice scraper with a warm mitten handle. Dr Culture (who is from up north) says "No, it's not so cold. You'll be fine!" Peter just laughed and said "she's going to be cold. But she'll have to learn."

Well, I have been cold. So cold in fact that I bought some of these. They are so fantastic and I thank Em for suggesting them. Now my hands don't freeze while I grade! My office is decently warm, but I've been spending a lot of time in our department computer lab which they keep quite chilly (what with all the computers I guess). Various people walk in and out during the day and chuckle at my getup. It's not unusual for me to be wearing a hat, or coat, or extra layers to keep warm. Note that it is only the middle of November. I'm totally screwed.

Dr Athlete's parting words were, "Don't worry, you'll be so productive there. There's nothing else to do!" It's scary how right she was. This semester is winding down. I'm ending my time teaching 52 students (we actually only have one week of classes left as we have individual conference appointments after the holiday). My three classes are winding down too. I still have two group projects to finish, one research project of my own, and a few papers to write. Amazingly, next semester is already starting to take form. I'm only teaching one of my own classes next semester (but now have total autonomy- I even get to pick textbooks!). But I still need to write a syllabus, figure out assignments, order textbooks, get at least my first week of lesson plans written before the new term starts. I'm also a teaching assistant for a course in my field (yay!) with a favorite prof here, so I need to start reading the new text book and figuring out what this class involves (think more intro to my field than general ed requirement). New Prof and I are also doing a research study on some new things we're implementing in class. Hopefully we'll end up with a publication. And I'll have three new classes for next semester of my own. I just met with another prof (let's call him Testing Prof) to talk about a potential research study for next semester. It sounds promising, and even though we won't have any money, we might be able to get two publications out of it. A third prof (Teaching Prof) has invited me to go to Mexico to teach at some point over the summer. And I might be able to continue the research project I'm doing for one of my classes and turn it into the beginnings of a presentation or something.

I'm looking forward to this upcoming break. Farm U has resigned itself to students leaving for Thanksgiving, so they close the whole campus down all week. We'll be back in Rose City on Saturday to relax and recuperate (well, and catch up on all the stuff that I haven't had time for over the semester, and write paper, and collect data. But relax too). After that there's two weeks of school, a week of finals, and then four precious weeks of holiday. We're looking forward to a little time off together. And we're planning to make it up to Minneapolis (finally!) too!

It's amazing how quickly 4 months has gone by (and scary too). Perhaps the Middle won't be so bad after all.

Traveling is for the Birds (Not Cats)

Sometimes, I think they don't love me anymore. First, they disappear for 3 months, sticking me with Ben and Jerry - those guys were always playing pranks on me, making it look like I was making a mess, when really, I'm OCD about keeping clean. Then, when I finally get settled in and can deal with all the hissing, they come back and drug me for a week straight until we end up in this very strange new place.

And now, once we've all settled in, they take off again. Something about a baby. Don't they know babies are dumb? They can't even feed themselves or talk. Not like me. I talk a lot. And I'm a ferocious hunter, stalking my food bowl, making sure it can't get away. Although, it might be nice to meet a baby - I could snuggle up to her warm little body, steal some food, maybe steal their breath.

I'm pretty sure these two are getting ready to leave me again. I'm not dumb, I can read the tea leaves on the wall. I see the leaves turning colors and falling off the trees. I see the kids in their silly little costumes, throwing eggs at houses. I feel how cold it's getting - and man, it's getting cold. I know the 'traveling season' is upon us (I think you humans refer to it as the 'Reason for the Season'?).

But the most obvious way I know they're leaving is they introduced me to my 'baby-sitter.' This crazy Chinese chick came over a little while back, and I heard them talking about how to take care of me. Here's how you take care of me: PUT FOOD IN MY DISH AND PET ME! It's really quite easy. Here's what not to do: pull my arms out of my socket and ignore me. I know I'm a cat, so I'm flexible and all nimbily-bimbily, but my arms, they really don't move in that direction so well. Chill out, woman.

So, in order to avoid this crazy woman, I'm going to sleep on this red thing until it's warm out again - I don't know what this thing is, but I know they take it with them whenever they go away. If I just camp out here for the next 2-3 months, they won't be able to go anywhere without taking me. I'm just so lonely here when I'm alone. I get so sad and miss the snuggling with Kimberly. She keeps me warm. And fed too. It's not like I can feed myself. I mean, I am only a cat.

Excuse me, do I know you?

When I lived in my two previous university towns I frequently ran into people I knew or just people who were familiar looking. At Hippie U, I had the same route most days (going from class to class) and often crossed paths with the same folk each day. We didn't know each other, but we did recognize each other. At City U, I knew a lot of people around campus (mostly due to the fact that I spent way too many years there and had many different positions at the U). I always ran into people I knew.

Here at Farm U, I don't really know anyone. But, as I walk across the quad each day, I see people that I just know that I know. And it seems so strange that these people would be here in the Middle. How did they get here? And then, I look more closely and realize that they just bear some sort of passing resemblance to people from City U (or even Hippie U every once in a while). I'm sure that eventually I will indeed recognize people here. But not yet.

An Open Letter to the City of Phoenix

To the City of Phoenix and all Phoenicians:

Hi there, Phoenix. I have always heard the you are a wonderful, up and coming new American City. The weather is supposed to be great, especially in the winter (when the high only gets to the 80's). People are moving to you in droves, escaping the cold of the Midwest and rain of the northwest.

However, I have to point out a few things that make you really difficult to like.

First of all, your airport is terrible. Considering that you are a hub for Southwest Airlines, as well as a major tourist and snowbird destination, you would think you would have a nice, clean airport. While a new, modern airport would be nice, how about just fixing up your precious Sky Harbor? How about some windows in the terminals? How about some color on the walls, or public art work? And don't even get me started on the passenger pick-up/drop-off areas, where I watched as person after person came perilously close to getting side-swiped by passing motorists.

While many will argue that renovating an airport while it is still functioning is a pain in the a-- and causes many headaches, it is possible. Just do it one terminal at a time. I would think that Southwest alone would be clamoring for a nice airport, and maybe they are, but I have to say, Sky Harbor is a dump.

Now, about your drivers: if anyone ever tells me that drivers in Boston are the worst in the country, I will laugh very sarcastically in their face (like this: HA HA HA HA HA), then make them drive in Phoenix (or from Ames to Des Moines for that matter, but that's a whole different post). Here's a tip for all Phoenicians: it's very difficult, and probably dangerous, to text message on your phone, while driving with your knees and going very fast. I should interject here that the highways in Phoenix are of wonderful quality, newly paved and spacious. However, when you have a wall of people 4 across going 60 because they can't figure out what LQTM means, it doesn't matter how well kept the highways are.

Additionally, in order to have a functioning highway, you need to have some of the on-ramps open so that people can actually get on the highway and drive on it. At 430 in the morning, when you get off the highway to buy gas for your rental car so you don't get dragged over the coals by the rental company, you should be able to get back on the highway relatively soon. Like, maybe, at the exact same place you got off. Having to drive 10 miles on surface streets, following poorly placed detour signs, to get on the highway because all the on-ramps are closed, is unacceptable. If it had been a busy time of day, I have no doubt we would have missed our flight.

Finally, I need to comment on the abundance of strip malls and sprawl. I understand you have almost endless flat land down there. But let me clue you in on something: just because you can, doesn't mean you should keep pouring concrete over the desert and building another Target or Home Depot. I understand that the weather for most of the year makes it difficult, if not impossible, to walk anywhere. But how about not having everything be miles apart? How about trying to create some pedestrian friendly areas? Density can be a good thing, especially in a place that has no natural water source and has so much concrete that it is disturbing the surrounding weather patterns. Urban planning and zoning, while having many flaws, is probably a concept that you will want to further explore, and possibly even implement.

Having said all that, I would like to complement your City on its wonderful Desert Botanical Gardens. While we only spent a little time there, it is obvious you take great pride in this place. I can imagine few places that would be a better setting for a sunset.

Thanks for letting us visit, Phoenix. We may come back someday, but probably not to visit you. Maybe as a gateway to your surrounding desert. Or to visit friends and go to weddings. But we almost definitely will not be coming in the summer. 120 degrees is not really my cup of tea. Even if it is a dry heat.

XOXO
PEter

Yesterday, It Was a Good Day

Fortunately for our niece, 1900 (I have made an executive decision to change her name from 'BTF' to '1900' for the purposes of this blog and, maybe, also in real life; if you know her name, you should be able to figure out why (hint: it has nothing to do when she was born)), the Red Sox won another World Series yesterday. Now she doesn't have to go through life worried that they won one right before she was born, then never won one in her lifetime (like people born in 1919, or late 1918, even). Although I'm not sure she realized what happened (um, actually, I'm pretty positive she doesn't realize what happened, she's like 3 days old), she was in the spirit for the celebration, courtesy of a gift from Auntie S-t-Y.

For the record, I think S.I.L.K. is not a Red Sox fan; I think once she said that she was a Seibu Lions (of Japanese baseball) fan. I'm not sure how far B-t-O has gotten in convincing her to get with the Sox, but since Seibu is where Daisuke Matsuzaka played before he came stateside, hopefully she was an easy sell. Fortunately for me, Kimberly had no affiliations before she met me (people in Oregon aren't really Mariners fans for some reason. And it's really hard to root for the Mariners; trust me, I tried for a year and it was really hard (*cough* fair weather fans *cough*)) so I could mold her to my liking much more easily.

That's nice

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!

The Red Sox did it again, winning the World Series last night for the second time in 4 years.

While no less satisfying, this one felt much different than 2004. That year, I think I blacked out during the last out while screaming in some random bar in Seattle (where, oddly, I was completely surrounded by Boston accents). This year, the final inning was more of a formality than anything. There was one tense moment, when it looked like a light hitting shortstop would ruin it, but Kimberly's new boyfriend, Jacoby Ellsbury (the pride of Madras and Navajo Nation), erased that with relative ease.

Up there, that's the Red Sox Japanese contingent. Matsuzaka-san (Kimberly's other Red Sox boyfriend) on the right, pitched well, but it was that one scene of Ortiz putting gum on his hat, then their wacky handshake/bow that really stood out. And on the left, Okajimi-san, who, in my opinion, was the Red Sox MVP this year. Especially considering he came over to keep Matsuzaka company. He was lights out all year, only faltering when he was obviously out of gas after being overworked in the World Series.

I have to admit that I was a little scared of the Rockies, even telling one of my friends I thought the series would go to 7 games. But boy was I wrong. The Sox dominated from start to finish.

I'm a little sad I'll miss the victory parade this time, but it's just not possible to make it back to Boston on such short notice, especially with another trip looming at the end of the week. I hope everyone back east enjoys the celebration.

And a helpful hint, falling off a traffic light is probably not the best way to celebrate winning (I hope this kid is alright):


(photos from Boston.com)

This Looks Like Fun

Nine years ago, the Red Sox made the playoffs for the first time in a long time behind Pedro, John Valentin, Troy O'Leary, and Nomar. They won the first series against the Indians (behind a crazy pitching performance from Pedro) and were facing the Yankees for the American League Pennant.

Since this was the first time I understood the Sox were good (although I have memories of 1986 and that tragedy, I was only 8 at the time, and didn't really understand), me and my friend Van drove down from Vermont for game 3. We had the naive plan that we would just walk up to the ticket booth and get tickets for the game. Ha!

When we got to Fenway, there was a buzz, even though the game didn't start til the next day. We wandered around, not really sure what to do, when a radio reporter approached us (I think he was from BU, which potentially means he was from NPR (since BU is the carrier for NPR in Boston)) and asked us where we were from, how excited we were, and how much we were willing to spend on tickets. Being fairly poor college kids, we said $50, like that was a lot of money. The reporter audibly guffawed.

On the day of the game, we got up at like 4, and got a ride into Fenway; we were going to be first in line!

When we showed up, the line was already long. Really long. Pedro was scheduled to pitch against Roger Clemens.

We hung out, bs-ing with the other people in line. Eventually, I think around 10, the ticket office opened. We really weren't sure if there would be enough tickets for us. We certainly knew we wouldn't be able to afford scalper tickets.

As we approached the front, they started cutting people off from the line, as the tickets were getting low. They stopped the line maybe 10 people in front of us, and we were sad. But then a few minutes later, they opened up again. We inched forward, hoping we would get past the ticket bouncer.

As we timidly passed him, we were elated. Then he put up the hand to the people behind us. We were the last ones in.

When we got the ticket booth, there was a weird pause, like we weren't sure what to ask for. I mean it was pretty obvious why we were there, right? So finally, we asked if there were any more tickets.

'Well, we have 4 left, but they're standing room, obstructed view. $50.'

I don't know if it is possible to answer 'we'll take em' any faster.

This was game 3 of a 7 game series, which the Sox were down 2-0 (they eventually lost 4-1). But this was the ultimate game. Pedro and Clemens at the top of their games. Fenway was rocking the way only old, cramped, smelly, uncomfortable stadiums can. The fragile steel beams were shaking with every chant of "Rog-er, Rog-er, Rog-er" and with every Pedro strikeout. When Valentin (or maybe O'Leary) hit a grand slam, the place went insane.

Eventually, Roger was chased from the game, Pedro pitched maybe 6 innings of good ball, and the Red Sox cruised to an easy victory, their only one in the series.

Whenever I watch a Sox game like last night's, or all those crazy playoff games in 2004, I remember Fenway that night, in all its crumbling, shaking, green beauty.

One of these years, it would be nice to go to one of these series clinching games, where the players spray champagne on you after the ninth inning and people don't want to go home. With the rapidly escalating cost of tickets, and increasing rabid-ity of Sox fans, this may be getting more and more impossible with each passing year.

But really, that looks like fun. And I was able to experience it once 8 years ago.

(photo copied from Boston.com)

Things I'm looking for...

at the grocery store
sundried tomatoes
couscous
frozen edamame
lettuce without brown spots
fish- any type that's not in "stick" form
spicy salsa
spicy anything would be nice
nice olives
crusty bread

in the boxes in our closets
bird feeder (where are you?)
bbq chimney (we have the bbq- but where did the chimney go?)
my brown sweater

in ames
sushi?
ethiopian?
a mountain

in life
an extra 40 hours each week (pretty please?)
my checkbook (I've seen it since we moved, but where did it go?)

seriously- if you have any thoughts about where I might find these things... let me know

Art on a Stick Not Contained Within

My mother came to visit this past weekend on her way home from visiting my niece. We're still fairly new to this part of the country, so we went exploring new places together. We visited our local downtown and the University. And we found some pretty good local restaurants.

On Saturday, with Kimberly stuck in the office studying, me and my mom went to Des Moines, where the World Food Fest was being held. We ate some great ethnic food, including pupusas, tamales, and BBQ ribs, while wandering around the new up-and-coming East Village neighborhood (think Harvard Square 200 years ago, or the Pearl 20 years ago).

After eating our fill, we went to the Des Moines Art Center, which turned out to be wonderful. Located in one of the older neighborhoods in the city, the museum is set in a park with lots of outdoor installations.

The museum building itself is a fantastic space. I don't know much about architecture, but even I know the names Saarinen and I.M. Pei, who, along with Richard Meier (who is also apparently very famous), designed the three very distinct wings of the Art Center. It was a great environment to see some great art, particularly the Meier wing, which was full of natural light and superb art.

I know even less about art than about architecture, but I know I liked a lot of the art in the museum. I also know enough to recognize names like Hopper, Sargent, O'Keefe, and Rodin, all of whom have pieces on display. The art ranged from impressionist to contemporary, with a lot in between.

Obviously, as stand alone entities, the building and the art are amazing pieces of work. But the thing that most impressed me was that it seemed like the art and the buildings were designed with each other in mind. For this reason alone, the museum was a success.

We only were able to explore about half of the museum, so Kimberly and I will certainly have to go back, especially to explore the outdoor grounds.

And when you come to visit, we'll have something else to do besides go to the State Fair.

StoryCorps

Perhaps you remember that 2 years ago, PEter and I decided to host a big party, invite the people we love, and get married. Some days I can't believe it was only a few years ago.

One thing we did before we got married was participate in StoryCorps.

If you listen to NPR, you've probably heard about StoryCorp, a national project to record living history. People sign up to interview and the StoryCorp folks provide the technological assistance. You leave with a copy of your recording, the other copy added to the Library of Congress (which if you ever go to DC, you must visit!).

You can interview your mom, dad, next door neighbor, childhood friend, person you met yesterday... anyone you can think of for any reason you imagine.

I decided that one thing PEter and I could do in the crazy hustle and bustle of all the planning was to take a hour for ourselves and talk about where we were now and what the future might hold. It was a precious hour indeed. We have a wonderful recording of our first meeting, our thoughts about getting married, and our plans for the future.

If StoryCorps comes near you, I can't recommend highly enough participating.

Happy anniversary PEter.

The Silver Lining

I haven't found full time work here in Iowa just yet. And while it's great not having to work, my days are becoming more boring and I look forward to getting a job eventually.

However, there is a benefit to being unemployed this time of year: I get to watch the baseball playoffs in their entirety. Because baseball is played pretty much every day and each game takes almost 4 hours, they need to start the games in the middle of the day and play them all night.

The Red Sox start in 3 hours.

And by the Way...

Happy October.

Only 30 more days until Halloween.

The Most Interesting Post You Will Ever Read

So I just finished making and eating a turkey sandwich. It was on toasted wheat bread, with yellow cheddar (and yes, I melted the cheese).

Now, while that doesn't sound impressive, it is, in fact, very impressive for two reasons:

1. I used mayonnaise on the bread. Ever since 2000, when I became addicted to French fries (before they became Freedom fries) with mayonnaise while traveling through northern Europe, I've actively avoided using mayonnaise on my sandwiches. Apparently it's bad for you. Of course, this rule was suspended when eating tuna salad (tuna + mayonnaise + a splash of hot sauce + toasted wheat = one fantastic sandwich), but mustard had become my sandwich condiment of choice. I have to say, the turkey and mayonnaise paired really well. Let's see if this incident brings mayonnaise back into my life on a more permanent basis.
2. I finished a jar of pickles. In all honesty, when was the last time you actually finished a jar of pickles? If you go look in your fridge right now, way in the back, behind the baking soda and the unfinished jars of jam and mustard (which also never seem to get finished), you will find at least one jar of pickles with 3 pickles left soaking in their brine in the bottom. Most likely, they're dill, because, really, those bread & butter or gherkin pickles are gross. There's also probably an almost full jar in the door with the rest of the condiments. Why? Who knows.

I really feel like I accomplished something today. Now maybe I'll go take a nap.

what should I be when I grow up?

An online career test is making the rounds of the internets, so I thought I would take it. I think the results are rather interesting.... (in fact, I'm thinking if this teaching thing doesn't work out, maybe I should investigate career option 8!). Interested in doing the test yourself?

check out careercruising.com
username: nycareers and pw: landmark

*****note that the login/password no longer seem to work******

1. Professor
2. Sport Psychology Consultant
3. Foreign Language Instructor
4. ESL Teacher
5. Computer Trainer
6. Sign Maker
7. Anthropologist
8. Locksmith
9. Addictions Counselor
10. Foreign Service Officer
11. Psychologist
12. Print Journalist
13. Security Systems Technician
14. Furniture Finisher
15. Writer
16. Picture Framer
17. Humanitarian Aid Worker
18. Market Research Analyst
19. Upholsterer
20. Translator
21. Tailor / Dressmaker
22. Technical Writer
23. Activist
24. Communications Specialist
25. Bicycle Mechanic
26. Political Aide
27. Public Policy Analyst
28. Musical Instrument Builder and Repairer
29. Gunsmith
30. Autobody Repairer
31. Dental Lab Tech
32. Cabinetmaker
33. Electronics Assembler
34. Pet Groomer
35. Industrial-Organizational Psychologist
36. Coach
37. Carpet and Upholstery Cleaner
38. Community Worker
39. Funeral Director
40. Glazier

Voting for Big Brother [Pratola Serra]

Even the Virgin Mary gets a stylish look in Italy

On the day that Sissy and Mom/K arrived in Italy, my father had a special event planned for all of us. I guess, technically, my dad didn't plan the event, but he knew he would be showing us a little bit of Italian culture that few, if any, tourists get to experience.

So after a hot 3-hour ride from Rome in a small Fiat with no A/C, a home cooked meal provided by my Aunt (from my food journal notes (yes, we kept a food journal on the trip, which at some future point I will go into more depth about) we had baked fusilli, lamb, string beans, salad, and various cheeses, sliced meats, fruit, and olives - a typical Italian mid-afternoon meal), a hot shower, and siesta, we all headed down to the main part of town to join the gathering crowds of locals. That evening, the candidates for Mayor were giving speeches.

In Italy, elections are held over the weekend, with both days available for voting. Additionally, the candidates are not allowed to actively campaign on the weekend days. Therefore, on the Friday before the elections, the City organized a final event for all the candidates to present their platform one last time before they had to shut things down. And for us tourists, this very non-tourist event would be our introduction to Italy.

Pratola Serra, doesn't have a traditional piazza in the middle of town; instead it has a T-intersection of its two major roads where the three bars, shops, and church are all located. One of these roads is a fairly busy minor highway; the other a local street that connects to the the City Hall and schools on the back side of the town. The City shut down Via Roma and set up a stage with a big screen behind it, hoping people would stay off of Corso V.E. during the night.

[If you want a visual of the area, type 'via roma, pratola serra, italy' into Google Maps; the intersection is that of Via Roma and Corso Vittorio Emmanuele/Corso Garibaldi. Even better, I've geotagged a lot of the photos on Flickr; if you type 'via roma, pratola serra, italy' into the world map, you can not only see the pictures, but the approximate location of where they were taken. I just started playing around with the geotagging maps, but I think it's pretty cool. I will try to remember to add a link to it in future photo posts.]

Kimberly and family hanging out in front of the coffee shop, as
my Uncle (on the right) watched the candidates perform

We arrived as the first group was finishing up their speech, so we went to my cousin's coffee shop/bar to begin our Italian immersion. The four of us sat in front of the shop sipping our espresso and cappuccino, eating our first gelato. When the first speech ended, the 3,000 residents poured into the bars, engulfing us. Family and friends wandered by to say hello to my father and get introduced to us. It felt like the whole town knew we were coming and wanted come by to meet us and buy us something. It took all of our strength not to consume the 50 espresso and 100 gelato that were offered.

As the next candidate group was preparing (Italy is a parliamentary system where you vote for the party rather than the candidate), we moved closer to the stage; despite understanding pretty much nothing that they would say, we wanted to be in the middle of it all.

The town folk listening intently to the candidates speaking in the middle of the
street. This is the party that ended up winning the election

This was right out of a movie. The head of the party would stand at a podium in the middle of the stage, with 2 associates on his flanks, as his image was broadcast on the big screen. The speeches were typical political fare, with fist banging, passionate pleas, and exuberant cheers from the crowd (or at least that part of the crowd supporting that party). I understand why the screens were there, but I have to say they added a certain Orwellian effect to the whole event that made the whole thing seem much more dramatic.

Sissy and Mom/K retired early - flying for 24 hours straight might make you a little tired - but Kimberly and I stayed through to the end, doing our best to understand the speeches, then pick my semi-English-speaking relatives' brains as to who they were going to vote for. In the end, we mostly ate ice cream, drank coffee, and tried weird new liqueurs.

Over the weekend, the upstart liberal-leaning party, who were known as the Olive Branch or something, ending up winning the election, upsetting the incumbent mayor, as well as another established local party. No one in the entire town seemed happy that they won, so it made us wonder who exactly voted for them.

Overall, we came away pretty impressed with the whole concept, which was to create a social carnival out of a local election. The whole town came out, stood in the middle of the street and listened to the candidates' promises (as cars avoided them), and debated on the street as they sipped their espresso. I feel like interactive events like this could do well to increase the turn out for local elections here in the States, which currently runs at about 3%.

I'm sure the candidates' promises were full of crap, as are most politicians, and nothing has really changed in this small City. But at least you get some coffee to go with the baloney.

There's a few more pics of the event on Flickr, but they're all pretty blurry: we hadn't figured out the intricacies of using the camera in low light at this early point in the trip.

[edited by Kimberly 6:30 pm...
My favorite part of this event is that I was actually able to have a conversation in ITALIAN! After Mom and Sis went to bed, Peter and I remained at the event. Peter is not always the best interpreter, and I got tired of pestering him for English paraphrases. I started talking with a woman next to me named "Maria" who grew up in NJ and emmigrated after she married a local guy. (The only American in town I believe) She had a friend with her who didn't speak English, and we ended up having a wide ranging conversation about schools, politics, and life for women in small Italian towns. Due to our differing language abilities, we spent more time in Italian than English (my Spanish-y Italian being better than the friend's no English). I remember leaving the debate walking on air since I had successfully negotiated all by myself in Italy with actual Italians.]

Banned Book Week!

Celebrate Banned Book week!

This week is the official Banned Book Week. Celebrate by reading some good books, or even buying t-shirts and other fun stuff from the American Library Association. Google has teamed up to offer information about the event as well as additional contacts to get involved. In particular, learn how to fight censorship in your libraries!

To get an idea of exactly what people are still trying to ban, here are some samples of challenges to books (taken from The Forbidden Library)

Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl. Anne Frank. Modern Library. Challenged in Wise County, Va. (1982) due to "sexually offensive" passages. Four members of the Alabama State Textbook Committee (1983) called for the rejection of this book because it is a "real downer."

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Roald Dahl. Bantam; Knopf; Penguin. Removed from a locked reference collection at the Boulder, Colo. Public Library (1988), where it had been placed because the librarian thought the book espoused a poor philosophy of life.

oh the irony

Fahrenheit 451. Ray Bradbury. Ballentine. Ironically, students at the Venado Middle School in Irvine, Calif. received copies of the book with scores of words--mostly "hells" and "damns"--blacked out. The novel is about book burning and censorship. Thankfully, after receiving complaints from parents and being contacted by reporters, school officials said the censored copies would no longer be used (1992)

Of everything I learned while reading for this post, this quote, by one of our fairly recent presidents was most surprising.

Don't think you're going to conceal faults by concealing evidence that they ever existed. Don't be afraid to go in your library and read every book, as long as any document does not offend our own ideas of decency. That should be the only censorship.

How will we defeat communism unless we know what it is, what it teaches, and why does it have such an appeal for men, why are so many people swearing allegiance to it? It's almost a religion, albeit one of the nether regions.

And we have got to fight it with something better, not try to conceal the thinking of our own people. They are part of America. And even if they think ideas that are contrary to ours, their right to say them, their right to record them, and their right to have them at places where they're accessible to others is unquestioned, or it's not America.

—Dwight David Eisenhower

From the remarks of the President of the United States at the Dartmouth College Commencement, June 14, 1953. Courtesy of Dartmouth College Library.

Now, I don't quite agree with his views on communism being "almost a religion, albeit one of the nether regions" but heck, this is still pretty impressive to me.

So, get out there and read! Vote! And laugh hysterically at people who want to ban books about banned books being burned during banned book week!

The Versailles of Italy [Reggia di Caserta]

While we were visiting my dad in Italy, his family suggested that we all go to the Palace of Caserta (Reggia di Caserta), outside of Naples. Most non-Italians, including us, don't know anything about the Palace (although it is listed in Let's Go!, and I assume Lonely Planet), even though it is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. We decided it would be a good start of our tourist adventures, since it wasn't too far from Pratola.

Before we get to the Palace, a brief history of Southern Italy: pretty much the entire area of the Italian 'boot' south of Rome, now known as the Mezzogiorno, was once held under a monarchy known as the Kingdom of Naples (also known as the Kingdom of Two Sicilies); this area was under pretty constant threat and often changed hands between the French, Spanish, and Moors. In the mid 1700's, the Spanish won the area from the Holy Roman Empire (which I'm told is different than the Roman Catholic Church based in Rome (and for a while Avignon in France)). Somehow Napoleon ended up with Naples, was overthrown by a peasant revolution, and eventually the region was incorporated into the Kingdom of Italy (which eventually became a fascist state, then a Republic) in the Risorgimento by Garibaldi and Victor Emmanuel II; the additions of these regions allowed them to perfectly complete the boot shape.

Now that brief summary is, at best, a jumbled misrepresentation of the history of the Mezzogiorno. The important thing to know is that the region was once ruled by the House of Bourbon (a French-Spanish family) and that in 1752 the family decided to build a summer palace, supposedly based on the French Palace at Versailles, outside of Naples.

[Quick tangent: because the south was ruled by this Spanish speaking family, we were told by several Italians, mostly from the north, that the southern Italian dialects have strong Spanish characteristics. While we have no idea if is true, the fact that Kimberly was a language champion while we were in the south, having only studied Spanish in her past, had us supporting this theory.]

So after getting lost in Caserta and driving past, under, and around the Palace 2 or 3 times ('Look kids, Parliament, Big Ben'), we finally found it, a huge Baroque looking building. We decided to walk through the gardens first, which required that we ride a bus 3 km to the back of the grounds. As you may remember, that was an adventure!

Once we entered the gardens, we found ourselves in a serene, lush environment. Like most old gardens in Europe, they prided themselves on the diversity of the fauna, including plants received as gifts from all over the world, including Asia and the Americas. My favorites were the Redwood and Douglas Fir, from the exotic region known as the 'West of America.'

Kimberly and Sissy with a statue of Venus.

Interspersed throughout the landscape were weathered statues, benches, rivers, ponds, and ruins. We marveled at the old roman ruins found throughout the garden, thinking they must have moved them from some other place, maybe Pompeii. It turns out that all these structures were built in the 1700's and made to resemble ancient ruins.

Faux Roman Ruins

One of these 'ruins' was a reproduction of a Greek/Roman Temple, located in a forest in a far corner of the gardens. There was no one else there; it looked like no one even knew about it, even though it was in our guide. The time we spent at this temple was one of the few times we had a quiet moment in our entire trip.

Peace and quiet at the Temple in the Woods

After spending a good couple of hours wandering in the gardens, we decided to get back to the Palace, eat some lunch and do some exploring. After our experience with the bus, we decided it would be a good idea to walk the 3 km downhill back to the palace. The 'causeway,' for lack of a better word, back to the palace was a wide boulevard with a man made river running down the middle. On each side, there were multiple paths, either in a forest, under a row of trees, along the river, or on the bus road.

At the top of the water way, a man-made waterfall.

The man made river was pretty impressive - starting at the top of the hill, a 'natural' water source was created, with the water looking like it was coming out of the ground and running through the rocks. At the bottom of this, there was the first of many fountains, with marble statues of women and water spouting all over. For about 3/4's of the way back to the palace, there was a never ending series of waterfalls and fountains, making the stroll pleasant, despite the heat and humidity.

Angry dolphins spouting water

In various places along the walk, there were also rows upon rows of marble statues; it's like Italy had a surplus of marble and decided to just put statues everywhere. It was here that we first noticed the vandalism (there's a good picture of this in the photo set, but you might not want to let your kids see it). A recurring theme throughout Italy, and really a lot of southern Europe, is the rampant vandalism. In the most beautiful museums and churches, on marble statues and fountains, there is almost always vandalism. And honestly I don't understand why. Is there too much beautiful stuff there? Do they not need it all? Here in the states, there's vandalism, but I feel like if you were caught vandalizing Mt Rushmore, you'd be electrocuted. In Italy, almost everything is marked. And the only place that seemed to be trying to prevent it was the Vatican.

Walking past the vandalized marble statues

Along this walk, we also had our first experience with the other Italian obsession: making out in public. Amongst the trees and benches along the side of the road, there were quite a few couples making out, which wasn't so bad. Then, as we approached the Palace, there was a couple standing in the middle of the road: he had his hands WAY up her shirt and they were going at it hot and heavy. They didn't seem to care that the 4 of us walked by within 2 feet of them. This was not the last instance of advanced PDA that we saw in our Italian travels. My dad joked that we should have thrown water on them; looking back on it, I don't think it would have helped.

When we finally reached the Palace, we had a nice lunch at the cafeteria, where the pressed sandwiches were better than most American restaurant meals (I'm looking at you Applebees). We then wandered around the massive Palace, of which only about 5% was open to the public.

It was a fairly interesting building, built on a grand scale, especially the entrance staircase. One of the more interesting things we discovered was that the marble floors and walls were not in fact marble, but rather painted tiles and walls. The effect was well done, but we thought it was strange that real marble wasn't used; maybe they ran out of money?

'Oh my, a lion'

It also turns out that the Palace has been used in a bunch of movies, including as Queen Amidala's (Natalie Portman) home in the Star Wars prequels, which would be cool, if those movies actually existed.

Reggia di Caserta was a beautiful place, and I highly recommend the gardens; personally, I could have passed on the Palace, but I might be in the minority. And it was a great place to start our tourist adventures as it introduced us to many Italian concepts, like 'queuing up,' vandalism, walking, public making out, and heat and humidty.

All the photos of Reggia di Caserta are now uploaded, and in slide show format here.

What sucks

There are a few aspects of my career choice that are envied by most. Many folks envy the flexible schedule, the control most teachers have over their day to day activities (profs in particular), and the mythical summers off.

One thing that truly sucks is grading.

I don't mind reading 52 papers. Providing feedback to my students is one of my core job descriptions (if they gave us job descriptions, which they don't). But I HATE trying to take thoughtful, reasoned feedback and turn it into a letter.

Now, those of you who know my academic interest in assessment (or testing) might be surprised by this. After all, what is testing if not scoring someone's ability to do something and turn it into a percentage or a letter grade? (Note that this is a trick question)

I like using rubrics (those grid like forms that teachers often use to check off how well you've done on different aspects). I like conferences, I like students visiting to me to talk about how to change this paper or talk out an idea. But trying to take Susie's*** paper full of great ideas but completely lacking any organization and Jose's well written nonsense and figuring out a letter to assign? Yuck. Do they get D's for not completing all elements of the assignment (assuming the assignment was to include grammar, organization, and content)? Does one do better than the other? They both clearly have problems; but how much do these problems matter to the whole?

Today's office hour is a perfect example. My students received their first major grade on Monday. Let's just say that it didn't go so well for most of them (or for me). The average grade was a C, no As at all, and a fair number of Ds. They were less than thrilled. And, in a paragraph of feedback, it wasn't always easy to both point out the areas they do well, address major issues, and propose something to focus on for next time. That's a lot to cover. A student came to my office hour this afternoon who had one of those "what in the heck do you even do with this paper because it is so confusing it makes your head hurt" situations. And, although it was challenging to write down these things, in discussion, we addressed all and many more. In an office hour, I can pose problems and make students come up with solutions. I can tie the paper they just got a grade in to the writing they will do for next time. I can brainstorm with my students individualized strategies for what THEY can do BEFORE turning in their next paper (e.g. Jose always looks for commonly misspelled words, Fredrick checks all his sentences to make sure they have verbs, Annisa does a reverse outline to see if her sentences belong in her paragraphs and to see if her paragraphs support her paper). I can't do this in class for my students. And, honestly, I can't do this for each and every of my 52 students.

In theory, I have a 20 hour a week job (half time). Now, I teach for 6 hours a week. I'm obligated to have 4 hours of office hours a week. I'm already at 10 hours with my obligated "showing up" time. Then, add in lesson planning, photocopying, responding to student email, reading the darn textbook before the students do, making additional appointments, and oh yeah, GRADING, and there's no possible way that fits into 10 hours a week. (Note that 52 papers times 15 minutes a paper equals 13 hours alone and I have papers to grade every two or three weeks).

So, the result is, honestly, that the students who make appointments and seek help get enough instruction to do well. And the students who don't? Some of them get by, some do not. So, in a way, students are required (but not explicitly) to come see me outside of class to be successful. Granted, some students still haven't learned that they need to see me IN CLASS to be successful. But the students who missed class today are going to be unhappy. I extended the due date for the next paper, and they aren't going to know about it.

________________________________________________________
*** Note that I never talk about specific students or classes in this blog. Any student names used are purely my imagination and details used are amalgamations of many real and imagined characteristics.