Yes, It's Damp, Miserable, Autumn, and Impossible, But I'm Thankful to Putting My Legs to Use and to Appreciate All the Colors of a Daily Walk

In my head, I still run, but in reality I walk, because it kills two birds with one stone and Karal also gets a walk. It's absolutely stunning out there and my favorite are the red leaves that pop amongst the yellow (even if I drag some of them indoors)(phew! Canisius Hall is a leave emporium of carried leaf debris).

Now for the raking. Or mowing - that's my strategy for leave removal on an a dry, pre-hibernal day. 

Today is Halloween and I've moved my class online because I know I can't live with myself for not handing out candy (and books) to neighborhood kids (and the buses of kids that are dropped off to treat and trick in our neighborhood). I'll do both: teach and uphold a neighborly duty of putting smiles on the faces of kids. Of course, I give out non-chocolate items so I'm not the favorite house to attend.

Now I am thinking about winter storage and how I'll need to get objects into my shed. This will require a few days so everything can dry out. I also need to bring the snow blower to the garage, which I hate because it takes up too much space (even though it's on it's last leg...well screw...but somehow continues to do what it's done since my dad found it on the side of the road.

Ah, seasons. Oh, life. Uh, the world. It'll all get done as will always need to be done today, tomorrow, and always. 

Rainy Days are 'Weally Wuff' on Karallyne Karma Cupcake Who Doesn't Understand Why There Are No Long Walks and Opportunities to Sniff the Universe

I knew on Saturday night when I went to bed that I'd like spend 14 hours on my porch working on recommendations, grading, publications, and conferences, which I did successfully, besides a short stint of cooking a Louisiana sausage, peppericini, spinach pasta dish for myself and to bring to Beth, Dan, and Beth's brother who flew in to take care of the loss of their father. Karal didn't leave my shoulders, either, looking out to the rain wondering when it would be her opportunity to walk.

Instead, she road to Big-Y and then, later, to drop of dinner for Beth's family - a nice visit with her and some of our colleagues from Fairfield University.

I also cleaned out my winter closet getting scarves, gloves, and hats ready, although I still don't plan on turning the heat on until November 1st (although the temptation might come sooner). I looked out to my back patio thinking, "why didn't I winterize summer tables, plants, and rugs when it was warm?" They're drenched now, and I am not sure a warm sun will dry them before heading to storage. 

Today, I'm on campus for meetings and more submissions, then back to grading and planning for the week. My house is booked for Columbus, too, since all the hotels are sold out for NCTE in a couple of weeks. I also get Jake this week, which is a blessing in doggie-love and company while Pam and Oona are in St. Augustine, Florida warming their bones before the winter inevitability. 

The weather, though, simply makes me want long naps which I'm not good at taking. I believe it is the transitional days that are the worst, because going from 80 degrees, full moons, and zombies to a cold monsoon is simply miserable. 

Alas, the cycles are what they are and onward we must go. 

The Moose Got Loose from Syracuse and Successfully Avoided Being Eaten by Milford Beach Zombies

I love our Saturday-before-Halloween ritual on Halloween where Leo and I choose to be festive and the others just look at us like we're fools. Last night, we celebrated with Abi's falafel in Trumbull, front row seats from the Milford Beach Zombie 5K, and an evening with good company.

It was a great day to also celebrate another Sonya Huber book at the Walnut Beach coffee shop and to get coffee from Ocean State Job Lot (for the Homefront) and even an egg bagel from Dunk'n Donuts. You'd think coffee and dough was my thing.

As for the baklava from Abi's, I can attest it's the best I ever had. So delicious and appetizing (I'm channeling Mimi Sue for such greatness). 

I also got a solid first draft of a NCTEAR presentation in Austin, Texas in 2024 - let's hope it gets accepted.

Ah, the warm weather is going to disappear and I believe rain will keep me indoors this Sunday, which I welcome with open arms, a

blanket, and fresh coffee for my pot. I'll be teaching Tuesday night's class online so I can hand out treats to the tricksters and treaters stomping down Mt. Pleasant Ave. It was a very warm night to be a moose who got loose from Syracuse and, as Pam noted, I'm built like a viking. Ripley big-boned and all, but the puff under my eyes is simply because I should probably get more rest than I do.

Karal and I also got a great walk in, having walnuts drop on our head like atomic bomb and air-launched missiles. Actually, while driving I thought a few of them might crack my windshield.

Now, the Moosehead can retire with the frog of yesteryear, as I think to 2024 and what next will come forward as a stupid costume to entertain myself for a night.

Falafel, friendship, and foolishness. This is the way I like to branch out in Crandall world and I can say that it was more fun to watch zombies chasing runners than actually being chased myself. 

Be well, world. Be well. 

Walking By A Werewolf with a Dog is One Thing, But Walking By One That Moves and Growls at You is a Whole Other Experience

When Karal jumped, I followed suit. I took her for a night walk and we went by a yard that is marvelously decorated for the season, including a sacrificial site of satanic goats and enough skulls to line a 3-mile track of the Long Island Sound. I was intrigued and was happy to pass by, but the werewolf growl did Karal in, and I have to admit I jumped, too. 

These Halloween decorations are getting crazy. I can't imagine spending so much money on lawn toys, but I have to say they are cool, clever, and engaging. 

I suppose a Hyundai car is not the most decorative addition, but they have to park somewhere.

We are experiencing a wonderful warm spell, with the final day ending this evening with 82 degree opportunities. Then, I suppose, we have to face the music that another winter is coming. 

I'm always happy to see a Friday come and go, but this Friday (yesterday), I simply wanted to get on a plane, find a beach, and stay away for a few months. I am okay with admitting, "I am burned out to the maximum level." I have to find my mojo again. Even colleagues from across the nation picked up on the reality that I'm spent. "Crandall, you're not Crandall, Crandall." Well, duh. You work where I work. You'll be spent, too.

Here's to finding optimism somehow and somewhere. When you have hope, the work is much easier. On a walk-n-talk today, I realized I'm not the only one on campus looking for any notion of good. It appears we're all feeling it.

Now I'm wondering how much werewolves get paid to scare passer-byes. I'm a harry guy....not as muscular as I could be, but I have some fright in me. 

It's Been a Week for My Dear Friend & Colleague, Beth, So Yesterday I Stopped By Her House to Offer Her Fridge a Few Meals

And I also was lucky to catch the light just right, as she lives on the estuary side of the Sound near where the Housatonic River drops into the Sound and where the Charles E. Wheeler Wildlife Area acts as a sanctuary for birds, fish, fox, deer, raccoon, and everything else that benefits from the brackish water. Last week I got news that Mikey, her dog, was going on doggie hospice, but today she learned that her 91 year old father is not doing well in the hospital and they're anticipating the worst. He's had bouts before but always triumphs and defeats all odds, but this time the tea leaves aren't looking good. She knows she'll need a little help from her friends and I jumped into that roll immediately.

Before knocking on the door and greeting Dan, her husband, I took a second to soak in the beauty of their backyard....she managed to find a semblance of the Louisiana wetlands that offered a childhood home. The lights, the scenes, the movement, and the bliss comes in cycles and I love looking out from where she lives. It's just beautiful.

I am thinking of my friends today and all who are holding onto time with hope. We're lucky when such news isn't in our immediate radar, but when it swings back our way we can only offer prayers and support. I learned, too, that the great Luda Dixon, also 91, of Louisville, Kentucky - the math teacher who guided my early career and understanding of education - passed this week, too.

He is and always will be a Brown School legend. Every minute counts.

I have only just a minute,

Only sixty seconds in it.

Forced upon me, can’t refuse it.

Didn’t seek it, didn’t choose it.

But it’s up to me 

to use it.

I must suffer if I lose it.

Give account if I abuse it.

Just a tiny little minute,

but eternity is in it.

Always Nice When Settling Into an Online Course and You Look Outside to See a Beautiful Skyline as the Sun Sets. Bonus Treat for Sure

I don't know about Wednesdays. They just about do me in, being on campus by 8 and finishing my last course at, well, 8/8:30. It's a lot, especially since I teach Tuesdays until late and always have a terrible sleep in anticipation of making it through Wednesday. Alas, I achieve what I have to and yesterday, before going online for my lass class of the week, I looked out and saw the sky. It made my day. 

What didn't make my day was Karal running outside thinking it would be fun to greet every person on the street putting out their trash. She has no sense of boundaries and although when it's just the two of us she's grand with commands, when she's got a world to interact with beyond me, she's impossible. So there was that, too. 

But the sky...the patterned clouds, the light, the hope....that's what appealed to me last night and I hope to kick off this morning to bring such a sight into human action.

Ah, but first, I really, really, really need to write!

Thrilled to Represent My @SUSchoolofEd Training in Last Night's Young Adult Literature Class with an Evening on Dis/Ability Studies and Representation

There are many things I cherish about my time at Syracuse University, but at the top is the mission of inclusivity, Dis/Ability studies, and the commitment of challenging all the ways we construct identities with K-12 youth and the teaching for all. Excellence should always prevail and that was central to my time with the orange and blue.

Last night, I was able to share the article I wrote with influence of Beth Ferri and guidance of Kelly Chandler Olcott (my first academic publication) of reading dis/ability in YA literature. I did the class literature circle style and students chose the books they wanted to read, thinking about how young people with dis/abilities were represented in the books. We used the guiding questions from my article to analyze (with textual evidence) the success or challenges we had for the given text. 

What resonated with me most was as I predicted, the prevalence of dis/ability in all our lives and the need to counter storytelling so it is fair, individual first, and proactive on the strengths and talents of all kids in a world that works against so many. 

The night was a tremendous success, so much so that many stayed after class to share stories and propose research projects to carry the conversation forward. It was a hit - one that I wouldn't be able to carry forward without the influences and brilliance of Syracuse University educators. 

It makes me proud and I look forward to advocating such work more in my carer. Here's to all who commit themselves to truth-telling, advocacy, and the power of putting kids first, always. I'm refueled for a couple of days and I have Orange Nation to thank. SU School of Education proud!

I Get to Dog-Sit This Teddy Bear in a Couple of Weeks, and I Can't Wait for the Jake Love for a Week

Two powerhouse days ahead, followed by a few weeks before Jake-a-boo arrives, after Halloween and fully ready for a canine joy fest. I spent much of my day yesterday in grant-land and, to be honest, I think StoryFest wiped me out because I don't have any energy. Warm days/cold nights = autumn exhaustion for Crandall. 

We'll see how Karal does, as she loves company, but they both have their sleep routines and compete for attention from me. Karal has been sleeping downstairs, so I don't think that will be the problem...it will be the unwinding period from 7 pm to 9 pm when Karal wants lap time and Jake simply wants to go upstairs already. 

I brought over pumpkin samosas to Pam's, which we ate with potatoes and fried peppers. Too much food for a Monday night, but I missed lunch and I was hungry. 

I cashed in my rolled coins and with the cash stopped at Trader Joe's to get dinner. That place is always busy. It must be maddening to work there with everyone shoving and grabbing as they go. They have great products, but it's a lot. 

I settled on the couch last night simply to finish a couple of books that I've been nursing, knowing my brain can't produce - only consume, and when I have great books, I don't mind disappearing.

Class tonight and all day tomorrow, but Thursday should give me space to be productive on my own projects again.

Time to make the donuts, and I'm off.

HAPPY Birthday, lil' sis. I hope you find joy in opening your gifts! Happy Birthday, Cos! It's been a minute, Mark, and we need to get together soon. 

Beth Boquet's Chocolate Bomb For the Rescue - Giving Me My Sunday Night Sweet-Tooth Fix & Saving Me a Trip to the Store

A few weeks ago, Beth left me a bag on my porch to congratulate me for getting my materials for promotion in by September 1. It was a Franken-Ball of Cocoa and Marshmallows that I kept in the kitchen knowing it was too warm for hot chocolate But then the air turned yesterday and after a day of outdoor work, and helping a friend move, I realized my sweet-tooth was triggered and I wanted something to soothe the soul. I almost ran to the store when I saw the monster.

Just heat milk. Add the beast, and enjoy --- which I did with an absolute smile on my face. 

I also went through my jars of quarters, dimes, and nickels, knowing that paying off a big project on the house, has me scraping for pennies until the next paycheck. I'll take care of them tomorrow. They were rolled, counted, and bagged. I hope it's enough until the next payment arrives (although it is a mortgage date, so there won't be much left over. 

This is my issue. I can't stand seeing the interest accrue on a small loan, especially when I see it adding up quite quickly. I took a loan for a particular amount and don't need to double that amount by only paying the limited payment each month. I've been chiseling it down for 7 months and it's over. Thankfully. 

Meanwhile, I feel like I don't have my usual reservers and that makes me nervous, so I'm scraping to survive until I'm back on my feet again. Dang teeth, both mine and Chitunga's. Dang house and the rotting would that I replaced. It's all good, because in the end it will be better. 

Like my stomach was last night with the delicious cup of cold-weather happiness I sipped to sooth my soul. 

ON LEAVING & RETURNING: WRITING THE BODY HOME - Thankful to @Westport Library for Having Me Back for StoryFest (& the Perfect Panel to Host)

I returned to StoryFest yesterday for additional panels, including On Leaving & Returning: Writing the Body Home with authors Mitzy Sky, Sonya Huber, Oliver Radclyffe, Namrata Patel, and Sidik Fofana. One writes poetry to escape abuse from her passed, including labels she never deserve, another writes about missing an identity, an in-between space of an Indian family, without necessarily in the home culture within her. There was stories of midwestern families and understanding the self, while a short story writer explored the narratives of a single apartment complex. Finally, the 5th carries home in his heart because it isn't what it used to be and it isn't quite here, but as a British woman with two kids who has crossed to a man with a new life in Connecticut, he was a hit of the day. It's the accent. Actually, it's the remarkable wisdom and honesty. My favorite question asked was,

My colleague, Dr. Gholdy Muhammad, writes in Unearthing Joy that young people, writers, and educators need to do as Dr. Yolanda Sealey Ruiz suggests - an archaeological dig of their histories and stories, to find purpose, happiness, and genius within themselves. She writes, “Identity is composed of notions of who we are, who others say we are (in both positive and negative ways), and whom we desire to be…there’s a complex and dynamic dance among the three toward identity development throughout our lives.” This makes me think of the brilliant contributions made in Voice First by panelist Sonya Huber and how each of us operate with multiple voices, most often simultaneously. Sonya, would you share some of the voices influencing the human you are and also, I welcome fellow panelists to discuss the voices that live within their worlds as writers and human beings. 

The conversation quickly went to the intersection of how voice, identity, and home intersect and we are always something of what used to be (or how we define it in our heads). I know the library recorded the entire thing and even if I don't want to see myself interviewing others (looking like a middle-aged walrus), I wouldn't mind taking the content and expertise as notes for my own writing.

Okay, Sunday, of course I have to work and I'm obligated to on-campus items, but I really want to avoid my brain for 24 hours. I just want an alternative to the chaos of always having to think, write, be on my toes, grade, and lead. I want to float in a pool (that's what walruses do).

Here's to your Sunday. Here's to my own. 

 

Congratulations to @WestportLibrary for Last Night's Kick-Off with Featured Guest, Neil Gaiman! Wow! What a Fantastic Evening of Storytelling Brilliance

Yes, sometimes I pinch myself for the luck I drew in this particular life, especially with collaborations, partnerships, and the stellar vision of wonderful people like Alex Giannini of Westport Library for making magic happen with a festival of authors in southern Connecticut. What an honor to be invited to pre-gaming with the invited guests and to sit in a gorgeous library to listen to the interview by Stephen Graham Jones of the one and only Neil Gaiman. Phew. It was incredible. 

I knew when I arrived and saw the signs out front, walked into the VIP entrance (um, they set me up better than I deserve), and then breaking break with brilliant writers that I need to check myself. No, I'm not an invited author, but I'm hosting a panel this afternoon and feel great about the National Writing Project's efforts with The Write Time, and carrying over the brilliance of Rebecca Marsick and Kimberly Herzog who introduced me to the incredible library in Westport, Connecticut. 

I have just enough time to eat a bagel before I head back to hear several author panels and participate in the one I get to host on writing our way home again. I can't wait. 

Neil Gaiman read a short story from his collection of 12 months inspired by responses to Twitter users and shared his October tale about a man leaping from a genie bottle to grant his wife three wishes of which she refused. She was fine. And in the end so was the genie, not needing wishes because he realized he was simply content looking in his wife's eyes. It was a clever, short piece that exemplified the mastermind writer who has worked with Terry Pratchett and grew inspiration from Stephen King.

There's much more reflection to come, but for now I have to channel good questions for wonderful writers as we present from 1 pm to 2 pm. I feel like they matched me perfectly with the panel brought my way.

Here's to Alex and the Westport Library crew; they work tirelessly, and their events always are out of this world. Nothing but admiration for them all. Simply outstanding. 

Capturing Inevitable Change as It Displays Itself Naturally Outside Donnarumma...13 Years and Growing. Joy.

Yesterday, by 2 pm, I was free to be me, as I was replacing others across campus up until that point, fulfilling my professional obligation to my department, school, and colleagues. When I settled into being me, I couldn't help but think of this treat, partially channeling Chitunga who said he missed the colors of northeast autumns, but also celebrating his accomplishments, changes, and personal growth. I can't help but think of Grannie Annie's The Leaving, too. Leaves are symbolic for the rest of us.

Today, I head to day one of StoryFest, returning support for an authorial bonanza with Westport Library. The rain is coming, but so is the celebration of writing. 

Nothing sits still. It never has. There's just nature and the way she runs her cycles - ones we can study, learn from, and offer us spiritual guidance. I will channel this on a day of interviews, writing, networking, grant submissions, and dreams for a better world tomorrow.

My roots run deep and my branches walk towards the rising sun with inspiration from Ger Duany and so many others. Soon, the leaves will fall, but they'll bring rebirth (and allergies) in the Spring. We can count on this, and hope that the Great Whatever will protect us all from the harms we cause ourselves.

Proud Teaching Moments Today, Especially with Our Honors Refugee Literature Course. They Were Absolutely Amazing

Success! Yesterday, we recreated Fairfield University's Oak Room into a refugee experience simulation, where our students presented on Dadaab Refugee camp and the experiences of Somali refugees. They learned history, registration, living quarters, health issues, educational issues, and ways to advocate. Julie, my co-teacher who has hosted this event for years, hoped for 30 students. We counted almost 120, so it was a great success. I'm also super proud of my colleagues who stopped by to see the hard work of our 20 students. 

In short, they were limited to a few slides that were printed to trifles, and then needed an interactive activity to keep others learning about the refugee experience. The entire process took 30 minutes, and it was designed to created awareness for others, while the students also became mini-experts on their topic

Tommy, pictured above, modeled the space given two individuals in the camp, which was mapped out inside the space given to undergraduates on our campus (let's just say the spaces aren't comparable). Yes, issues of tripling in the dorm rooms is rough, but there is definitely still much more legroom. 

Next week, we come back together to reflect on the experience from their viewpoint. I was at the end and got to hear reactions, which were all favorable. 

Shout out to the First-Year Experience teams, too, for making this an event that offered credits to students, even though I met many seniors who were also interested in the subject. Love when student engagement comes alive, and thrilled to be part of this course with Julie.

I'm learning so much and would love to teach this course again.

Waking Up on Hump Day Praying It Won't Be Grump Day, Because Crandall's Mind is Stumped ,Yay! And the Week Just Needs to End

Home at 9, up at 7 to be back on campus by 9, and lots of work in-between. Don't know if I'm coming or going, what's up and what's down, but it needs to go on. I missed lunch yesterday and got dinner at 9:30 pm. Happy Happy, Joy Joy.

A 14-hour day today and then a lil' respite on Thursday, although I'm booked with back-to-back meetings.

I just want this week over already, so I can get some rest. The dental days have caught up and I need sleep (or at least to be able to get ahead of the game instead of going live with it). 

Not a lot of time to publish a post, but I have to hit the road. It is what it is, and tomorrow is another day. 

Gosh, I hope it gets better. Oh, and we ran THE WRITE TIME with Nikki Grimes live last night. Here's from an opening prompt, walking in the woods.

I am always one step behind the leaps in my head,

 walking in the what ifs, the coulds,

the should-ofs, these woods 

splattered with possibilities, promises, and unwritten poems 

step by step, a manic mind roams,

and I realize I’m simply a leaf

veined & compital in all my beliefs --- 

that such wandering will land on wondering 

the sky, the sun, and the everchanging air, 

Today, I meander aimlessly, simply because I care. 

I am always one step behind the leaps in my head, 

but for this moment I’m walking with Nikki Grimes, instead.

Giving Into New Kicks (and and a Crandall Addiction) with High Hopes for the Pre-Hibernal Weather Ahead (We Have Miles Still to Move)

I don't think Saucony shoes likes to run discounts, but last week they ran a 40% discount to loyal customers and I needed to jump on the opportunity. I am still optimistic I can return to my 30s and 40s of 50 miles a week, 10 minute miles, and so I cashed in on the hope. New kicks and a 5K already signed up for...we can tame this midlife body.

I went to the dentist. What we discovered is that I shifted to the left side to chew which triggered the left side teeth to be sensitive, especially since the removal of one wisdom tooth on the right side realigned my bite and alignment. The sharp elective shocks to my ear and eyeball were because my teeth didn't like the adjustment. My dentist then shaves my bite on left hand teeth and, well, so far so good. She tried both heat and cold to trigger my teeth, but they didn't respond. She saw no decay or inflammation so she was flummoxed by what it might be, except for grumpy teeth pissed off my a new Crandall chew. 

She may have been right because the pain shooting to my ear, cheek, and eye socket has subsided. Let's hope. 

Meanwhile, I had tortellini soup, Isaiah is home from Oberlin, and Kris & Dave invited me to dinner (in which I could bring soup). The result? An abnormal Monday meal of the century with Dave's broccoli and lamp chops. It was an epic meal in which I got to catch up on Isaiah's first semester at Oberlin and, more importantly, I got to catch up with Dave and Kris. They ground me in too many ways to document me in a post.

So, I have these new kicks...walked Karal several miles, but I know I want to run again. I'm just nervous: teeth, knees, and hernias...I'm cautious to put a pound to my stride, rather than a good, healthy walk. We shall see. I do know that when I went to campus, people quickly complimented me on my kicks, which is weird, because I have too many pairs of kicks and rarely get anyone to notice. Black with gold? Really? Okay, I will welcome such royalty. 

Here's to a couple of days of impossible. We got this. 

Sunday Can Be Summarized as Blankets, Chills, Under-the-Cover Reading, and Laying Very, Very Low

I never got the headaches, but I got the sore shoulders and chills, more than likely caused by a flu shot, a covid shot, and the shingles shot. My brain was alive, even if I was triggered by another pesky tooth most of the day, which was okay by Karal, because she got her walk and more than fair share of snuggle time on the sofa keeping my feet warm. 

I reread Ger Duany's Walk Toward the Rising Sun for the 3rd time, when I got to his arrival to Des Moines, Iowa, and was getting ready to send Chitunga a text. Alas, Ger texted me, instead. He is in Seattle, Washington, debuting Goodbye, Julia in the United States. He continues to be on a quest to educate others around the world.

I also finished grading and reread Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson for the 14th or 15th time. Now, Monday, all I have to do is prepare classes and to be sure I move thinking forward in both my classes. 

I should also admit I showered and put laundry away, which is not normal in my weekend mode and sitting in my chair writing with Crandall filth is part of my omnipotence. 

The week ahead is taxing and I'm unsure how it'll all get done, but I have faith it will because it always does. I'm also thankful that I have opportunities to work as I do in the semblance of peace afforded my Connecticut home during these tragic times. I can't help but create new questions for my global understandings and to have new worries for what will come out of it next, both within the United States and abroad, especially when righteousness and ignorance rule the day. 

And I can't help but think that in a matter of seconds, all the knowledge I've built to accrue and used to make a career can be wiped out just like that...because that is the nature of the world. We owe humanity so much more and it simply begins with each individual taking responsibility for themselves and others. If you've known love, you want to share love. Love continues to believe the only solution I've ever believed in.

Adapted My Mom's Tortellini and Spinach Soup Recipe for Cold Autumn Nights with Kris Sealy's Spices From Trinidad. Delicious.

It was a bust of a day. I got my Covid, Flu, and 2nd Shingles shots, pumped gas, got groceries, picked up a new winter coat, and submitted a grant. I tried to grade, but didn't get too far because I wanted Tortellini Soup and began to cook. It looked so good I decided to share with Pam and Shirley. Surely Shocking Shingle Shots with Shirley. 

And the Trini-spices were the delicious ingredient to compliment the chicken and naan bread. I will definitely make this again because it was quick, delicious, and warm.

I'll have to make it again and invite more people over. 

Today, the rain is supposed to go away and I hope to do some hardworking and get atop the grading schedule. If I am on top of this, I can be ahead of my week which is piling up insanity each and every day. 

As of tooth #2 for the fall fiasco, I can keep it calm with room temperature drinks and food. Oh, the days and nights wasted in my 20s and 30s when I didn't realize ailments could be an every day occurrence. Here's to Sunday. It's me against the clock.

I Know I'm Too Young for Dentures, But Does Mid-Life Dental Issues Have to Ride Out as They Do? Because This Man is Frustrated

I woke on Friday with a sensitive tooth and a cup of coffee caused it to flare even more. Other side of the mouth where I've been chewing as I let the wisdom tooth abstraction heal. The nerves are not okay with the shift in eating and one of them is definitely exposed to hot and cold, so much so that it makes me fall to the ground when it is activated. Ibuprofin helps it to subside, but if it gets triggered it is absolutely miserable. 

And speaking of misery, it's restaurant week in Milford and we went out to celebrate. Three of us got salmon with risotto and, let's just say, after one bite we knew we couldn't eat it. It tasted like the ricotta was soaked in fish guts for a month and the smell was atrocious. I'm not one to ever return a meal, but the table unanimously decided it was inedible. We ended up with pasta dishes instead. Geez.

I spent most of the day working down a massive to-do list, absolutely keeping the irritable tooth from spitting agony to my ear and jaw. So frustrating. I just want a semblance of health sustenance for a short while so I can finish the projects that need attention, and I can move in my usual fashion. Instead, I'm like a geriatric patient in a nursing home.

This too shall pass. This too shall pass.

I miss my wood-burning stove for these Fall nights to bring heat to the routine and the fireplace smell. It's been a minute since I've chopped wood, but that's what I am thinking about this morning. This, and the to-do list, as I can't spare any more down time.

But if I have to, I will. Hello, Saturday. Why do these tooth issues always have to hit on Fridays!?

May We All Find the Gracious Rest Karallyne Karma Cupcake Finds Every Night While We Unwind

Karal misses the activities of a busier house, when she'd often get three walks a day: one from me, one from Chitunga, and one from Edem. She's at home in Syracuse and that is because she's never alone. There's always someone to hang with and then there are the visitors, neighbor's dogs, and cousin dogs. She's in her glory. Now that it's just the two of us on Mt. Pleasant, she gets perplexed that there's not more attention given to her during all hours of the day.

I told a neighbor last night that a good name for Karal would have been Siren, as she's like the sirens in Homer's The Odyssey. She fools you with her looks and loving persona, but then you get to know her, she pulls you in, then goes into attack mode. It's not an attack really, as much as she wants constant petting and if you don't, she bites at your clothes and shoes. She means no harm, but without fingers, this is how she assures you give her undivided attention. 

I have a three bedroom house and two floors, but she's usually at my feet or around my shoulders while I work on my front porch always on the computer. She's good with this, until around 8 pm when she starts barking at me. She doesn't have to go outside, she's not hungry, and she doesn't want to play. She merely wants me to move my arse the couch and read, so she can fall asleep besides me. It usually stars with her on my lap, but she quickly moves to an array of postures where she snores, chases dream squirrels, and sometimes suckles as if she's still nursing. 

Last night's pose was rather peculiar as she jutted her legs straight out and fell backwards to the pillows on the other end of the couch. Her belly was round from dinner and I remarked, "Phew. Wish I could zonk out as quickly and comfortably as you."

This is my 4th dog on my own and I've loved them equally the same, but Karal bonded with me in a way the others didn't. Glamis was Chitunga's dog, Baby was everyone's dog, and Juliet Catherine Alana Madonna Potatohead Olivia Houdini Dennis was just like her name....weird. Karal's not an affection dog, but can give licks here and there. Instead, she simply wants undivided attention to her all the time (she's like my niece, Nikki, when she was young....all about her).

I do love it, though, as there's not much that distracts me from an obnoxious work ethic and commitment to assuring the best I can do while I have life. Karal makes me pause...appreciate...and stop...just for her (which is rather amazing). I wouldn't trade it for the world, although a 45 pound furry scarf is not what I thought I'd be wearing as a 51 year old, middle-aged fart. At least on the couch, I get my space while she zonks off to bed. 

Getting Ready for WALK IN THEIR SHOES, a Simulation of the Refugee Experience with Our Undergraduate Students in the Honors Program

I am excited about working with brilliant young minds, phenomenal texts, the Canadian Jesuit Refugee services, and my colleague Julie Mughal in Refugees in Literature, especially the Walk in Their Shoes simulation they've been working on for the last few weeks. In short, their program will be hosted to all on campus to go through a 30-minute exercise on what it's like for a family/ individual to lose their home, their belonging, and find themselves as one of 35,000,000 worldwide in a similar situation. 

We've focused on the Dadaab refugee camp, and are featuring the story of Somali refugees who have fled their home country as a result of tribal warfare, a dysfunctional government, and drought. It is heavy work, but we have a responsibility to speak out. 

Next week, Wednesday, we'll be speaking.

Yesterday, our students did a trial run and I was beyond impressed by the care, knowledge, and dedication the students have shown in the group work. It's heavy. There's no way around that, but it's always a good idea to know elsewhere to better understand here. We have tremendous disparities in our own nation, but on a global scale the inequities are inhumane. If the future of a Western superpower can't work for a better solution, then who will?

I'm waking up this morning exhausted (this is the way it always is after an extended weekend...taking a few days off adds to the work still needing to be done. But it's work that matters and I can't wait to see how they are received by others. If you're on campus, we hope you'll stop by. If not, I'm sure I'll be reflecting on this next week, too. 

It's Hard, But There Are Times We Simply Need One Another Over a Meal...to Make Peace...to Share Hope...to Forget Misery, and to Regroup

The news was expected. In fact, as I drove home from Syracuse looking at the changing leaves on 17 I could only think of one person...Maureen. She was my friend from high school and always a joyous light in my life. 

In our junior year of high school, we had a first year teacher of Chemistry and bonded together with most of the track team she ran with (who was also in that class) to try to find a way to understand the class's content. The poor teacher could not crack open our brains to make chemistry make sense. We were all smart kids, but chemistry didn't serve us well, and we made it known. We studied and studied and studied, but knew the NYS Regents exam would likely destroy our diplomas. We just needed to pass. We only needed a 65.

Irony of all ironies, it was the same year that the NY Post demonstrated how easy it was to get answers for the NYS Regents exams and they posted the Chemistry answers in their papers. When we came to school for our tests, we learned we could go home. The state was passing all of us on our Chemistry Regents that year. We all got 100s that year. It's a story I will never forget. Thank the Great Whatever.

Just like the excitement of going to Binghamton. Those of us who were accepted quickly bonded and grew excited about all to come. Maureen was one of these individuals. We cherished every second of our senior year, but over the summer I learned she wasn't going to go after all. I didn't know why. I would only learn later that she'd soon give birth to her daughter, Laura. 

Maureen and I stayed in touch and as she moved to motherhood, nursing, and eventually moving to California, I would keep touch with phone calls, letters, and eventually social media. Laura was always central to Maureen's life and I kept up with the progress of her elementary, middle, and high school experiences. I've even stayed attuned to her marriage, motherhood, and care for Maureen. In fact, a Christmas ritual every year is to put all the Maureen/Laura Christmas cards together on a chair to photograph them and send their way. I've kept them all.

Several months ago, Maureen texted to say, "It's coming to a close. Please be there for Laura." We all fought several years ago as the cancer almost got her and she miraculously went into remission. This time, though, it was too much. She let me know she'd unlikely respond to texts, but hoped I'd keep sending them (which I tried to do daily, but more often weekly). Several of us were on her side and as others noted online, "There are Aunties and Uncles everywhere."

Maureen Polacci was nothing but joy. She was on CNS's track team and although I didn't run then, we bonded over 5Ks, 10Ks, and 1/2 marathons while I was teaching in Kentucky. I just adored her. She was always a light, a positive energy in a chaotic world, and hope. At our 20th high school reunion, I was super excited to have her at my house and to arrive to the experience together. I just adored everything she was for keeping happiness alive amongst her peers and friends. 

I was in my office when I realized she passed. I saw her daughter's post. I went to get groceries, but sat in the parking lot and cried. "Get it together, Crandall. This is not what Maureen would want."

I remembered her passion for Mountain Lions and how she always desired to have a photo of her running along trails in California with one of those beasts at her side. I now pray she's able to ride or run with such a creature across the white clouds. 

When I got home, I saw the to-do list that built itself while I was in Syracuse. Rather than deal with that, I simply cooked a steak on the grill, made some green beans and a salad, and went to Pam's to feed her, Oona, and Kaitlyn. I just wanted to be around people. It's not right...cancer never is. Yet, love is always the way, and a spiritual faith to stay good, do good, be good, and spread good. That was always Maureen and I'm not sure I deserve her angelic wings above me, but I'm definitely going to rely on them. In fact, I wrote Chitunga last night to say, "I'm praying she'll look over us both." 

What a beautiful human being. A stupendous mom. An incredible sister, and a loyal daughter. When I think of God, I always think of Maureen, and I'm sad for the world that her good is no longer with us. Instead, it needs to be IN US, and we all have so much work to do. 

I understand the importance of saying "Grace." We are never guaranteed anything and need to strive with life while we have it to do better for one another. This is the legacy of Maureen, and I'll always be a better man because of her. 

Rest in Power, Dear Beautiful Friend. Elephant Shoe Forever. 

This photo...one of the first she ever posted on Facebook...is exactly how I'll always know Maureen...out for a run...in the mountains...appreciating the fresh air, light, and view. 

And of course there's the smile....the never-ending smile, which is impossible for any of us to forget. 

The Inevitable Return to Connecticut. I'm Almost to the NYS/CT Border and the Traffic Stops. 30 Miles from Home and Another Two Hours. Ugh.

This is the price we pay for living in Connecticut. Syracuse was bad because they are working on 81 (ugh), but it was smooth driving until I reached Connecticut. Thank the Great Whatever that I was listening to Bettina Love on this trip to keep my brain moving and occupied. The highway standstill, however, was simply maddening. But I eventually made it and I'm thrilled to be back on Mt. Pleasant.

The day was spent visiting with my little sister, then spending time with Malia Celine, Courtney, and Kanyea in their new house in Syracuse. Who doesn't need a baby in their life to make everything fall back into place? 

And congratulations to Chitunga who received news today that he passes the last of his CPA exams. Phew. The kid is nose to the grind and doesn't give up. His happiness is my happiness. 

But today, I need to make up for taking three days off and NOT doing what I normally do, which is all work and no play. I have to get back to the grind and rather quickly. 

Yes, I snapped a picture from my car as I sat in traffic of the Welcome to Connecticut sign. I can't be the only one who has ever done this because it's just so predictable. NYC traffic is ubiquitous in this region and it definitely is an acquired taste.

It's so much better when I'm out of it...that's for sure. 

Pimped Papi Butch Up with CWP-Fairfield Swag to Go with His 1988 CNS Northstars Marching Band Windbreaker...Stylin' CNY Style

Dining room chairs are done. They've been on my to-do list for at least 40 years. Complete. Ribs purchased at BJs. Dog walked. Blankets out. Heat turned on...not by me, but the maternal front. Too cold in Syracuse as one can typically predict. As Chitunga said of Iowa, "It's beginning to smell like winter out here." 

Indeed, it is coming, and the bones are chilled. 

I did bring materials to work on while away, but I deliberately left them in my bag. I'm sort of tired of working...actually, I'm over it. I ran into a childhood friend, Peter Boy, while home and his sister retired three years ago and was bragging about how putting an end to the work life has been a wonderful thing. I'm not there yet and Peter has a couple more years, but the thought of saying adios to a career is highly appealing. 

Actually, I have more to do, but I realize how sick our systems are and how the only people that can influence have cash that I don't. They are unlikely to hear from professional expertise because, well, it's both professional and expertise, so they'll ride with whatever cash project entices them most. So, I'm cautious about what I want to get myself into and without summers off, Indigenous Day gave us an  extra day, so WOLA! a much deserved mini-break. 

That comes to an end today, because I can't procrastinate any longer. A short-lived rendezvous is always, always much welcome. 

Two Days Home in Syracuse Means Two Visits to Chubby's, the Wonder Bar, With Papi Butch, Their Bartenders, & Lottery Tickets

"Well, I think we should go to Chubby's," my father says around 6 p.m., after the Syracuse UNC slaughter.

"Again?" my mother complains. "What's the appeal of that stupid place?"

For years, I resisted. Actually, that's not true. I always went to Chubby's with my father for bonding time as, it is true, the place holds a special location deep in my father's heart. Labatt's, Budweiser, fried olives (that's what he calls mushrooms), and buying everyone drinks and $2 chances to win, if they're lucky, $20 which is added to the bar tab. This is the love of Quickdraw and barstools in upstate New York.

We won $48 last night between two tickets. We also were the only people at the bar besides the bartender. The kitchen is closed. They are trying to sell the location, Oh where, oh where will his lawnmower drive? Oh where, oh where will he go?

We returned without the $48, too, because he spent it down on buying drinks for everyone who stopped in to see if the kitchen was open or to buy a Powerball.

Waking up to blue sky and clouds this morning which is unusual for Syracuse at any time of year. The rain is supposed to return, but we'll take the bright lights while we can. Yesterday we had maple-glazed donuts and I stripped three of the dining room table chairs of nicotine tar from 30+ years on Amalfi Drive. Vinegar, dish soap, and water are miraculous and I should have done that years ago. I just assumed everyone got stuck to the black glue of their indoor chairs. Turns out, that stuff comes off.

Of course, now the chairs need to be retained...that might need need to wait for Christmas or a summer project. 

Always Cracks Me Up to See How Family Ties our Crandall Portrait is on Amalfi Drive. Didn't Plan It This Way, But All These Years Later, that's What We Have

I made it to Syracuse to enjoy the rain and dropping temperatures. I'm taking advantage of a three day weekend to take a mini-break that I never received over the summer...trying to create a wedge in the routines that never seem to end. Karal and I left Connecticut at 10, I visited with Bettina Love for most of the way, and was thankful to beat the weather. I love when it's smooth sailing. 

We had Popeyes for dinner which translated to Chinese food in Papi Butch's head as he told everyone at Chubby's about how good the Chinese Food is at Popeyes. Good thing they all know him, so they smile and get a kick out of it, too. Not sure what's going on at Chubby's either, but I'm not thinking that establishment will hang on too much longer. We'll see at Christmas. I've been saying that for years.

Something tells me today is going to be an under-the-blanket kind of day with football games and hot tea. I already have the shivers that winter is coming.

Hard to believe that we're one week out from the tooth abstraction. Story says I have another week for the healing to complete, although eating Popeyes was a step in the right direction. I've been souping all week, even though I was told solids were okay to consume after a few days. I kind of like when I'm forced to eat less and probably should keep myself off solids.

Time for coffee. Need to keep these cold bones warm today.

Throwing Out My Pride for Dr. Shannon Kelly, English Department @FairfieldU, and the Incredible Program Hosted @PequotLibrary Last Night

As a Fairfield University faculty member, I've taken enormous pride with Pequot Library collaborations in Southport, Connecticut, and have nothing but respect for their Humanitarian commitments to the public good, community engagement, and fostering excellence for another generation. Last night, I was lucky to attend How William Became Shakespeare: Four Hundred Years of the First Folio, an exhibit on display for all to see. I was extra pleased to view a student panel, to see exceptional work, and to bear witness to Dr. Kelly's leadership in promoting equity, diversity, inclusivity, and a passion for literature within Fairfield University students. They were exceptional, and I feel as if they represented the best that we have to offer on our campus. These youthful scholars were stunning, articulate, brilliant, and thought-provoking.

Dr. Kelly and I share many of the same students, and I've heard for weeks about the Pequot exhibit and their excitement for the academic celebration. It's been on my calendar for months, and I was delighted to see the excellence they brought to our off-campus communities. 

I've known for a long time how fortunate Fairfield University is to have Dr. Kelly's intelligence on our campus, but what caught my attention for the better last night, was the natural way she chose a platform to showcase the best of student talent. They were the feature. They brought the folios of William Shakespeare to life and that is emblematic for admirable teaching. I cannot give enough finger snaps for what they achieved.

And that crowd! Go Pequot! I am so impressed so many in southern Connecticut took interest in the ol' Bard.

This morning, I'm applauding Dr. Shannon Kelly, Special Collections Librarian Cecily Dyer, the students, their Board of Trustees at Pequot Library and the vision of Charles McMahon, Adult Programming, for this special exhibit. Also, much appreciation for prize-winning historian Stephen Greenblatt for his studies, scholarship, writing, and willingness to share representation at the event. I had to leave early but his lecture on "The Winter's Tale" was amazing, I hear.

Wow. This was a phenomenal opportunity as a faculty member. 

Way to represent the 'Ville, Dr. Kelly. Go Male High School - alumni they should be proud of...Fairfield University is so fortunate to have you as a faculty member. 

Not Everyday I Have a Snapshot from the Dean's Office, But When I Dress Like a Pumpkin (My Audre Lorde T-Shirt) I Like to Show Out

I am in love with teaching an an Honors course in Refugee Literature. The students are smart, engaged, and go beyond the call of duty to be part of the curriculum. Knowing we were reading the graphic novel, Under the Scattered Stars, I had them do a comic exit slip last week to prepare frame-by-frame thinking. I needed good lighting and cooler temperatures (it was 85 yesterday and my office was hot), so I settled in the Dean's Office for some assessment time.

The interim Dean snapped a photo for promotional purposes and I said, "Oh, so that's what this 51 year-old man looks like!" 

Sporting Sauconys and my Vicki Soto 5K flamingo socks.

Your silence will not protect you on the shirt under a sport coat. 

I see the temperature are plummeting over the next few days and probably should spend some time weeding, mowing, and trimming before the winter months come our way. I have a lunch, an on-campus interview, and some organizational items to take care of. 

Can't believe we're already in week 5 of the semester, but that's how the pace flies by. Next up, Ger Duany's Walk Towards the Rising Sun. I can't wait.

So Intoxicated by this Oatmeal Kick, I Almost Forgot to Post this Morning. Love the A.M. Stomach Glue with a Cup of Coffee

One of the acceptable things to eat post tooth-abstraction is oatmeal, so I've come to enjoy my morning ritual, especially as the temperatures have been in the high 50s/low 60s when I awake. I can't say I've ever been an oatmeal kick, but I know Chitunga has, at he was always buying oatmeal to have in the house. I like it with butterscotch cookies.

But, this week I've made it a ritual. It doesn't take any time to make and with a little brown sugar it does the job....actually keeps me full until the afternoon.

I believe a variation of it is what they feed contestants on Big Brother - SLOP. Not the greatest, but it does the job. 

Today, we're getting unusually temperatures in the 80s and I'm looking forward to finishing my classes so I can come home and walk the dog. I should also get a Powerball, because who wouldn't want a billion dollar success story....all you need is a dollar and another predictable disappointment. 

Alright, I need to keep this morning short because I have to go into work to prepare for class. My intestines are now stuck together, and I'm almost done with an auto book so I can't wait to get back into my car. 

Enjoy the weather.

Whereas People Apparently are Thawing Mariah Carey for the Holiday Season, I Started Thinking About a Crandall Wish-List of Things I Wouldn't Mind Receiving

When you're an adult, if you need something you tend to go out and get it. The best gifts, I feel, is when you give someone something they probably could use, but they just never treat themselves into buying. I've been spending a few weeks thinking about the items I've been looking up and potentially putting on a list to buy, but then I talk myself out of it because there's more important things to purchase. With this noted, it doesn't hurt to share a wish-list early enough in case (cough cough, mom and sisters) are wondering what they'll do this year year. 

So, in the obnoxious world of Crandall, always at the crossroad of here and there, I am ready to share items that made my wish list. Chances are, this ADHD brain will move onto a million and other one ideas to distract me, but this morning I thought, "Why not put this into the universe?"

So I have. These items include:

• Asian soup spoons (I don't know why, but I only have one and I can't eat soup any other way)
• New dog-movement-wear for Karal
• A lemon/lime squeezer for next summer's margarita season
• Decorate lawn art (preferably a tall bird - BJs had a set of two I wish I bought, but I'm like WTH buys fake bird art for their lawn? I like it, but wouldn't indulge for myself - these remind of a couch Sue McV used to have with such birds)
• Replacement Adirondack chairs. Mine are busted and ready for the fire bit.
• A new corner space for my porch. I live on the Crandall chair and the springs in my back and on my ass are proof of it. It's time to go, but I need a perfect replacement. I keep looking but haven't found it yet
• Seeds to expand my butterfly gardens. I want to have a few areas of milkweed next summer, and have luck with numerous perennials. For two years, I've planted Zinnia and Cosmos seeds and although they don't come back yearly, they look incredible when they've bloomed.
• One or two Paddle Board Paddles. We stored them over the winter and they must have been wet with ocean water. When Abu and I went to use them this year, both paddles broke. The adjustable parts rusted off, leaving us half-paddles. Annoying, because we only used them one year

And that's the list I'm leaving Santa Clause. I'm also realizing as family is expanding and new generations are being born, it's not fiscally responsible to buy in the ways we always have for once another. We need to be more strategic as people marry and produce babies. I'm seeing the transitions, which is sad because I've loved the wild-n-out holidays at the Isgars (still hope to milk another one this year), but I'm seeing how quickly the tradition is likely to be altered (rightfully so). Nothing sits still.

Happy Tuesday. I really need to get to work. 

Graduated Myself to Scrambled Eggs (and Even Grilled Sausage). I've Moved Beyond Soup, Pudding, and Yogurt! An Achievement!

I also reread Victoria Jamieson and Omar Mohammed's When Stars are Scattered, which we're focusing on this week, and my heart is heavy for the global reality of refugee camps, deplorable living conditions, and the randomness of being born in the ways some children are. It's a tremendous, heavy reality to think about and I can't help but to think of the boys I was fortunate to meet that changed my life forever. The probability of being selected is less than 1%, and the struggle upon arrival is not easy, either. Still, perseverance remains a virtue, as does hope, and that is what I'm carrying with me into another hectic work week.

I also packed up the paddle boards and kayak, knowing the chances of getting on the water again are next to null. The flesh-eating bacteria and the invasion of Chinese lantern flies (which are abundant) makes me skittish about the very thing I've loved doing in my life in Stratford. 

Time is spinning forward faster than usual these days, and I answer emails, texts, and even phone calls with trepidation. I suppose I'm looking for answers that, thus far, have been humanly impossible: the inequities, the realities, the drive for success in the United States, and so many needs. It weighs heavier on the mind some days more than others. I awoke this morning more mentally taxed than usual...trying to keep my optimism, faith, and direction in check.

The sun came out. I vacuumed the car, too. Put away laundry. Submitted another piece of writing. And I took my medications like a good boy, trying to stay ahead of it all.

Vitamins are good, Crandall. As well as meditation.