Snow Day and More

Huzzah!  I have experienced a Snow Day. That's right people, the early morning hours of January 20 brought a light snowfall and a 5:50 a.m. text from UTK. I had bread.  I had milk. Apparently those are the most important foodstuffs to have when you're snowed in. More importantly for me, though, I had Diet Coke, wine, beer, and Pop Tarts. I was good to go. 

At first, I didn't believe the snow would amount to much. I mean, it didn't even cover the top of the grass. But, as I watched through the day, the snow kept falling and eventually added up to a couple of inches. Now, of course, I have no proper footwear for snow. But I put on my rain boots and ventured out of my tiny flat far enough to take a pic of my darling Stella. 

Note to self:  wear socks with rain boots; the boots DO NOT keep out the cold!!

While we had enough snow on that Wednesday, the big Blizzard of 2016 almost totally snubbed the city of Knoxville. All around us, communities were getting record snowfall. We got maybe an inch. I was so mesmerized (and disappointed) with watching the Doppler radar that I didn't get anything done all day Saturday. Then I had to read nonstop on Sunday and Monday to prepare for the school week. Slaves and samurai danced together in my dreams. 

The school week went well. My Japan class, led by the admirable Dr. N., was amazing. Who would have thought that the history of Japan could be so fascinating? I credit Dr. N. with creating an environment in which the talk can flow so freely. Same is true of my African American history seminar under the thoughtful guidance of one of my three Dr. W.'s. Even Teaching World History went well this week, the class that is probably the most difficult for me. 

My TA project is getting geared up, and I met the historian leading the project, Dr. F.  She's amazing!  She loves history, cars, and horses--not necessarily in that order. She's got a dynamic personality and her enthusiasm and passion can really sell her ideas. This is going to be so much fun. 

Along with the Snow Day, the last week brought one other new experience for me. My buddy Matthew, who appears frequently in this blog, made two New Year's Resolutions:  to learn how to make sweet potato pie and to learn how to make sweet potato casserole. Happily, he began with pie. 

My first ever piece of sweet potato pie--and it was delicious. One down, one to go, for Matthew. And I feel so much more Southern. 

Now to spend the weekend reading and writing...

Knighty-Knight from Knoxville!!

First Week of School

Damn, it's cold here in Knoxville. Yes, this blog will be about my first week of the spring semester, but....

Damn, it's cold here!

School officially began last Wednesday, although I came back to campus on Tuesday. My first order of business was to meet with Dr. W. for whom I will serve as both TA and research assistant. The class is African American history after the Civil War. The research project is actually being conducted by an emeritus professor, Dr. F., but I got my marching orders from Dr. W.  The project revolves around Knoxville College, an historic black college established in the 1870s which only recently closed its doors, and will eventually include oral histories from surviving alumni. The project will be ridiculously fun for me, beginning with compiling a bibliography of secondary sources having to do with historic black colleges and universities, the teaching of African American children, and more. It will mean a lot of work for me this semester, but it will be useful, interesting work. 

Wednesday was the official first day of school. It felt really good to reconnect with my fellow students, hearing everyone's tales of winter break. Of course, I visited the party office right away, as I simply cannot stay away from J. 

Oh, and that's a bear cub, not a dog, with him. 

My first class of the semester was the other Dr. W.'s African American reading seminar. And reading it will be. In addition to the usual book-a-week, the weeks in which I'll serve as a co-discussion lead require three more books. Book reviews, the development of a course syllabus, a lecture outline--holy cow!

Thursday's will belong to my Teaching World History class, taught by a third Dr. W. A book a week, of course, with the first half of the semester devoted to learning the basics of how to teach world history and the second to reading works in the field. Here, too, I'll have to draw up a syllabus that I could use were I a teacher. Note to my California friends already teaching world history:  I'm totally planning on leaning on your expertise!!

My third class began just today--the Making of Modern Japan. Yes, Japan, that's right. It meets one of my requirements for world history and the time frame is basically the second half of the nineteenth century. And, I admit, I'm pretty excited about it. I know virtually nothing about the subject going in, but the instructor, Dr. N., seems like a real sweetheart. She's one of those teachers who is excited about her field--and that's infectious. Can't wait to start the reading for next week. 

So, to sum up, there's a lot of work to do this semester. And, most importantly... 

Damn, it's cold here!  Becoming accustomed to this new type of weather will take some time. I'm good with coat, hat, scarf, and gloves, but this kind of weather seems to demand much more. Every day requires that I dress as though I were going to spend 10+ hours at Snoopy's Home Ice!  Tights unde jeans, heavy socks, a cammy under a turtleneck--the whole ensemble. 

And, I've already learned one very important cold-weather lesson. Don't sit in your apartment and check the temperature on your phone--it's 70 degrees in my flat yet as soon as I see that it's 14 degrees outside, I immediately feel cold. NO CHECKING THE WEATHER APP!

Damn, it's cold in here!

End of the Idyll

Today's blog comes from seat 33F on Delta 760 to Atlanta. We're all on board, and the plane is packed. I'm seated next to Mr. and Mrs. Asshat. 

Let's take a minute to contemplate the Asshats. She's wearing all black, as though she were in mourning. She's fussily made-up am has hair combed so as to be as fluffed up as possible. She's got that certain bourgeoise air, seems a little befuddled at riding in the back of the plane with the commoners. Mr. Asshat is a gray-haired 60-something, wearing the ubiquitous khakis and loafers of his tribe. 

The pair boarded the plane at the last minute. They were assigned the two aisle seats in row 33. Ah, but wait. There's a BABY sharing seats A and B with her grandma and mom. Oh, no, thinks Mr. Asshat. The missus and I are going to take the two seats next to the nice red-haired lady quietly reading the latest Steve Berry book. So, Mr. Asshat pesters the beleaguered flight attendant into his proposed new seating arrangement. Then he snuggles in next to me and Steve Berry. But wait, that doesn't work for him. He wants the aisle seat!  So, he and Mrs. Asshat change seats. When the poor lady originally destined to sit next to me came on board, Mr. Asshat importantly informed her that "they" (presumably the airline) had put his missus into her seat. She, the lady, has to sit beside the BABY. 

OK, enough about my traveling companions. I had a wonderful time on my holiday break. I spent Sunday in the company of the "Neighborhood Kids," talking and laughing and (for Marijo and I) polishing off a bottle of Yvette's excellent wine. Monday afternoon was spent with the parentals, beating the pater at Jeopardy, as I always do (unless the final Jeopardy question is so damned obscure that nobody but the pater could get it). 

My last day in town was spent with my babies. We saw the new Star Wars --which was wonderful except that I hadn't read any spoilers and was, therefore, shocked by what happened. Afterwards, we had a delicious dinner at Chevy's courtesy of Yvette, the World's Greatest Hostess. Back to Aunt Sandy and Uncle Dale's house for dessert. Then, by some fluke, Yvette and I watched that genealogy show with Henry Louis Gates. That finally got Yvette to see that tracing black family history is not impossible. Out came the laptop, and we stayed up late playing with the Woolfolk family history. So much fun!!

But, now to get home. Mrs. Asshat brought no reading material with her, does not want to watch the TV, and is now left with just the Delta magazine to keep her company for the next four hours. 

More later.,,,

It's nearly midnight here in my tiny flat in Knoxville. I've made myself some dinner, watched a little TV, and am now in a hot bath (of course). 

The Asshats irritated me for the rest of the flight to Atlanta. Mrs. Asshat seemed to be afraid of accidentally brushing up against me (and I showered this morning!!), so she hugged up next to her man all the way across the country. He played fake gambling games from California to Georgia, sipping a Bloody Mary (like tri-tip, a staple of his tribe) and eating one of the roast beef sliders that he and the missus shared from the over-priced food trolley ("Something from the trolley, dears?"). 

The plane landed on time at Atlanta, but then took a long, leisurely drive to the gate. Then, there was the interminable wait while everybody in the front of the plane got off. I had to hustle to a completely different terminal to catch my flight to Knoxville. Then, when I ran on board, I discovered it was a flight for extremely narrow people. Both me and my carry-on, as you all know, are full-sized. I felt like I was playing the scene from Airplane where the stewardess hit everyone on the head with the guitar. I scrambled into my seat, thanks to my equally full-sized neighbor, and dove back into Steve Beery for the ride to Knoxville. 

Now, I'm home, thank goodness, and can start gearing up for the next semester. 

Until May, Sacramento!!!