Happy 69th Anniversary to My Mom and Dad!

They were married October 23rd, 1941, and it snowed. Dad was home on leave from the army, and wore his uniform for the ceremony. Mom wore a dark blue dress. The photo of them from that day, although it is sepia toned and hand-colored, cannot mute the sparkling of their faces. Their happiness bursts out of them into the world, though it is clear from the look in their eyes that they're in their own world. A world of two people who would be separated again to endure until Dad came back to stay.

This is one of the few things that could bring me back to put up a blog post right now. Why? Because it's that time of the semester. We're nine weeks in and everyone's getting crushed. The work load for students and instructors is so many layers deep that we seem to be doing a twisted version of "The Princess and the Pea." The papers and one-on-one conferences and general panic are the hundreds of blankets and we are helpless peas beneath it all. The fickle princess has run off to find a simple cot while we try to avoid becoming something Gerber's would slop into a jar.

Until I just looked into my gradebook I had no idea that we have only 6 weeks of class left. 7 actually, but one of those is Thanksgiving week. The weight of the schedule in front of me is daunting. Just today I came home in such fatigue that I skipped supper and went to bed at 6:45. My body had already warned me that it had had enough. I ignored it. Tonight there was no more warning. Just collapse. When I woke up at midnight, I started what I hope to be at least 6 hours of work.

My students are tired and worried and going in and out of various flu-bugs and colds. As am I. We get better and then we catch it again. The weather changes and we savor the crisp fall breeze as we blow our noses and hurry to the next class.

Flapjaw is still flapping, in between coughs and loud snotty sniffs in class.

I will now go back to reading the stack of 15-page personal memoir essays that were turned in this week. I am also eating cake. When Scott gets up in a couple hours I will hug him and go to bed. Another abbreviated shift of sleep.