Nearly a month has gone by without any new posts, despite my recent statements about blogging in earnest. I'm finding that teaching writing classes not only involves lots of time grading papers but also focuses my interest on writing. I'm actually writing a lot in various journals and notebooks, but not focusing in the short run on material I want to post here. We'll see what develops. Let's just say, my cessation of blogging is not due to deterioration of my health. I might be back soon. It probably depends on how spring unfolds - wildflowers, lizards, interesting insects, etc., usually fire me up and prompt me to keep my camera batteries charged.
I have been teaching since 1965 and have recently joined the English Department as an Associate Faculty member at Feather River College. Recently taught Nature Literature in America and am currently teaching Interpersonal Communication and Basic Reading and Writing.
When I start feeling sorry for myself as I walk the frigid 25 yards to my firewood pile, I'm humbled by the Wooly Bear caterpillar that seems to be perfectly content without a jacket - well, I guess he has a built-in jacket. The cats are having fun fighting to keep warm in the front hallway. When they go outside to eat, it's interesting to see how they get twice as big by puffing up their hair. Meanwhile, I go back to writing. The electronic sentinel my son Ryan built me for Christmas stands guard over my subscription renewal form for Poets and Writers. I must say, one advantage of holing up in the cold weather is that I'm more motivated to write and draw. In the summer, it's hard for me to slow down long enough for deliberative activities. That's one thing I've always liked about a climate with four distinct seasons. Impossible to become too set in my ways.