Tuesday, August 19, 2014

August 19, 2014

First day of school past, second impending. What is to be observed is exhaustion that led to a late afternoon nap from which I could barely arise before going to bed. Whatever I’d planned for the evening faded away. Good playwriting students–the biggest class ever. Eager Humanities students who had the benefits of my fulminations on Myth. What would I be thinking if I were they? Hints of strife in the drama department, hints that the administration digs its old tench deeper by, perpetually, siding with the worse cause against the better. Blessed rain yesterday. Oh Lord, watch over me, that when I am becoming an old fart, I am the first to know it!

Monday, August 18, 2014

August 18, 2014

First day of class. I move forward in the dark of the morning under the illusion that everything is done and ready. Productive Sunday. . . productive Saturday before it. Though my new computer has apparently been invaded by malware at the very outset. The seven foot swamp hibiscus I transplanted from 62, and which I knew to be red in its original place, has bloomed white as snow.  I will write this down in the miracle column. Another walk under the great canopy of dark

Sunday, August 17, 2014

August 17, 2014

Rose before 4, walked the streets. Half a moon remained, shedding pale rainbow on the clouds around it. The service stations leave their canned music on at night. Ingle’s was playing Motown that could be heard across the street. The Gulf station played a sort of classic-informed jazzy piano . Exxon is silent.

Found a new way into The Beautiful Necklaces.

Handel on Spotify.

Saturday, August 16, 2014

August 16, 2014

The screen to my all-in-one desk top went out, though the computer itself was still alive. Tried everything I knew, and then, despairing, I downloaded my files from Carbonite onto a laptop so I might keep on working. After four hours of downloading, I found that I was locked out of the file into which the documents ad been downloaded, and blocked by the computer from changing the sharing or security parameters of the file. “You do not have the right to do this.” I downloaded onto ANOTHER lap top, thinking it was an issue with the machine. Finally I figured I should have hit “download” rather than “back up.” Usable files did appear, but very laborious to re-save and use. I could not buy a new screen for the old computer (nowhere to plug it in) so finally I bought a new computer, onto which Owen transferred the necessary files, and into which I have been pouring the files and programs that could not be restored in that way. In short, two days of rage which amazes me, now, for its ferocity. The conviction that everything would turn out well did not, somehow, mollify me. I reminded myself of my father in his last days of paranoia and blind will. Must work on that. Must understand why I think the world will listen when I tell it, “Do not test me here.”

Lovely party at Russell and Maria’s to celebrate progress on their home. I was not feeling well, and almost sagging from exhaustion. Maybe it was two days of rage.

Attended the pointless but harmless faculty meeting. Enjoyed sitting with my colleagues.

Planted gentian, acanthus, a royal fern.

Thursday, August 14, 2014

August 14, 2014

Buttery yellow morning. The moon has not yet let go his reign. My first reader doesn’t like Lexington Tract, and that leaves me with the old question– begin the campaign, or go on to something else and not bother. It’s too embarrassing to pump someone for details about their impressions of or work–it comes off as begging for a compliment even more often than it is–so I don’t know what problems there are. I re-read it before the light, and like it, and can’t understand why someone wouldn’t, but of course I would. The style seems to me to get a lot of work done quickly–maybe that’s the problem? Anyway–

Last day before school sets in for well and good, me churning toward the completion of my syllabi. Syllabi are, at the last, a bad idea. They insure the class goes in a way it might not have gone had everything been organic. I get in trouble every semester for adapting mine to the flow of things: students interpret this as being disorganized.

Frantic calling of birds. They sense this is going to be their day.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

August 13, 2014

Dazzle of moon. Two hours wrestling with the university computer connections. Spent. Came home and transplanted a rose, drank a drink, lay down. A first autumn day.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

August 12, 2014

Dazzling moon. One pretends one is gazing at it for reasons other than taking out the garbage.

Planted the four English roses that came in the mail while I was gone. Rain came even as I finished.

Intestinal atmosphere still a little odd, bit otherwise I seem to have come out the other side of the fever.

Cats asleep on either side of my desk as though we hadn’t all risen up half an hour ago. Complicated dreams: I was either the friend of a son of the house, or a plant set by the police, on an immense country estate, the red-neck kind rather than the aristocratic kind. There were sheds and bits of trucks strewn about, and lots gunplay, but also an great mown hillside, and pond everywhere with ducks or frogs, as though those two creatures had divided the mountain between them. I was sat down for a list of rules and regulations by the patriarch, now that I was “going to be part of the family.”  It was mostly about loyalty, and I was divided in my mind about whether I should buy into it all or maintain a critical distance.