The Northward Contrail

On moments for us

A lot's happened in the time since I last posted, and most of it's been good. There continue to be some annoyances, but most of them are trifling. The rest of life in this year 2012 is actually pretty decent so far, and I'm finding it possible to breathe a little.

Over the last couple months I came to realize that there's very little left for me to prove to anyone other than myself. The remaining ambitions are mostly very intensely personal, and none of them involve Big Questions. Those have been answered, and happily so, and the answers to those Big Questions contribute to a sense of inner peace.

Happily, it's coincided with no small amount of simplification in my life. At work, I renegotiated some duties and worked out a new agreement on the student paper; not only is it a better deal for the students, and not only does it provide me with some sorely needed help, but it also takes away some major sources of stress. In my personal life, my five-year budget is ticking along as planned, and I'm thinking about long-term financial strategies that may enable an earlier retirement from teaching than originally planned. Why? For one, hubby's older than I am, and when he retires I want to share the time we have left doing the things we've always talked of doing. The other? Because the day I no longer feel I'm effective, the day I'm no longer getting it done, I want to make way for someone who has the fire and the ability. I don't want to overstay my usefulness. I've known people who have, and suffered as a student under some teachers who passed their "use by" date long before I got there. I don't want that to be me.

And the vacation from daily posting has been good, too. I'm remembering how to listen to life's pauses a lot more, and finding that while writing is good, just sitting and listening and thinking and all that kind of thing is sorely underrated. I have thoughts for topics, but no longer having to throw daily treatises on a website has been good for me. No doubt that's had something to do with why life has seemed a little happier of late.

With things thus far being humming along, and with fewer demands on my brain, I've even had time to spend at the workbench. A few hours of parts cleanup, a little bit of paint through the airbrush, and an evening with some glue got me this:

It's the make-rocket-go-now end of the 1:20 Tamiya McLaren M23, reissued about a year ago. It's an ancient kit by modern standards, but satisfyingly detailed and, in typical Tamiya manner, is generally a joy to build. With some luck, paint goes on the body this weekend, and I'll be able to install this monster. It took some time to overcome the workbench inertia, but once I got going, I remembered how addictive it is. When it's something that, in typical Tamiya manner, fits so well that it just begs you to keep building it once you've started, it's pure pleasure.

I've noted before the strangeness of being able to have good things, but not enjoying them because you can't let yourself comprehend that you do have those things for which you've worked so hard for so long. But lately, it feels that's changing, and I'm coming to realize just what I do have. Maybe I'm letting myself enjoy it. That would be nice.

Sabbatical

Four years ago this month I started this blog. It was an experiment, and an easy way for me to post some pictures of some old gadgetry from my collection and share some essays about things that fascinated me. Over time it evolved into something else - a chronicle of travels, adventures, what I was thinking, what made me happy or sad or angry. I've been fortunate to receive some kind comments, and I've also had the privilege of embarrassing myself a time or two in front of a worldwide audience.

What had started as an "every now and then" posting system quickly became a daily posting, and each day I'd find something to write about. If I couldn't, I took the cheap way out and just posted a link to a clip or a "back tomorrow." The material ebbed and flowed, depending on how I felt and what caught my fancy. I always maintained I'd keep posting as long as I was having fun with it, and that the moment it felt like work, I'd stop.

But if you've fallen into a habit, you know what it's like. I don't know what compelled me to keep posting day after day after day, even when I had nothing worth saying. It's not like I'd get a prize for an uninterrupted string of weekday postings. Along the way, I confused quantity and quality, and posting every day is worthless unless you have something worth saying or sharing. I haven't really accepted it, but the inevitable has happened. I'm out of steam, and have been for a while. I realize that's a hell of a thing coming from someone who's made a living out of writing, but there you are. I've stopped having as much fun with it.

Then there's the work factor. Once I was eager to haul my gadgetry out, photograph it, and write these enthusiastic posts. Or I'd go into my footage collection, take a bunch of screen captures and Photoshop them, and go wild about how it was done back in the day. Four years ago I was eager to share that enthusiasm and spend the time on all that work. I don't know if it's the grind of the day job or what it is, but my enthusiasm for that isn't what it once was. I feel badly about that, for those were among my favorite posts. I wish I could recapture that energy and enthusiasm, but it's missing these days. I'd rather come home and read a book or do something else. I've written an awful lot, and now I want to enjoy the pleasures of reading and listening to other voices and other stories. I want those voices and stories to inspire me anew, all the better to help me improve my craft.

Most of all, there's the personal factor. I'm a different person from the one who started this blog. Back then I was goofier, nerdier, perhaps overidentifying with my inner Liz Lemon. But I defy anybody not to change over any four years of his or her life. That's especially true the closer I get to 40, and it's been especially pronounced in the last year. I can't put my finger on exactly what happened; it's a confluence of factors producing a result long overdue. I can still be goofy, and I'll always be nerdy (and, yes, Liz Lemon will forever bring a nod of recognition from me). But there's now a seriousness and a purpose that wasn't there when I started this blog way back when. I've grown up an awful lot, and there's a peace in me that wasn't there four years ago. I've found the joy of quiet inner satisfaction. I don't feel the need to bleat my enthusiasms the way I once did, and the deeper we get into the weird world of Web 2.0, the more I believe that's a good thing. I no longer feel the need to prove myself to anyone else. I'm happy to be the only audience I really need to satisfy, and no longer feel the need to justify my enthusiasms to anyone other than myself. Sure, on occasion I enjoy sharing those interests, but on my own terms.

The me that's here in 2012 is content. Not all my problems are solved; there are a few things I'll be working on in the coming years, but we all do. Even with that, I have a deep peace and contentment I didn't have back then. I have a better grip on what matters. I've been through struggles, and I've watched people I love go through ordeals that make my own look like amateur night, and all that has given me valuable perspective. Sure, there are things I haven't achieved, but I see them as tomorrow's challenges. I have strategies for those things, and I know I can get it all done, because I've done harder stuff before. I know (to adapt a line from one of my favorite films) that it's over there, and it's only a matter of going.

I've learned what I really want to do and what's really worth worrying about. I now know as well that so many things I really want, and the things that really matter, have always been here - if only I'd take a moment to realize that. And even in the things I have yet to figure out, I'm grateful for those unanswered questions - that search, that quest, that longing makes life the adventure it needs to be. I always want to seek that new dawn just ahead. Even if I never find the answer, the search is an adventure and an education, and the effort often ends up being the true reward. Fulfillment can be wonderful, but the real value comes from the quest.

So, what does all this mean for the website? It's not going away. But the updates will become less frequent. This, for instance, is the last of the daily posts, at least for the foreseeable future. I'm giving myself some desperately-needed time off. How much time, I don't know, but I'll know when it's time to stop back by. When I do return, it'll be on a different basis; I'll post on whatever basis I feel is appropriate, when I have something of value, and when it's fun for me to share. The next chapter in the blog's life is to be about quality instead of frequency, and I believe you'll appreciate it more if I do that. There are several things I've wanted to write about that I just haven't had time to put together, and I hope having more time between posts will finally give me the time and brainpower I need to do those subjects "rite."

Finally, I need to thank all of you who have read, written, e-mailed, commented, or otherwise demonstrated that, one way or another, you cared. Even with all their ups and downs, I can't look back over the last four years without thinking about how much fun I've had, and how much fun it's been - and y'all have had more than a little to do with that.

To all of you, thank you. I'll be back.

Here it comes

Today's my last day of relative peace before it begins again. Classes resume next week. Today's going to be taken up with making sure the last little items are taken care of - that syllabi are in order, notes are ready, handouts are scanned and turned into PDFs (part of an initiative I'm trying in order to reduce headaches; if the students can't download and print a PDF that's available 24/7 on the website, they have no one to blame but themselves...or, at least, so goes my reasoning, though reality may demonstrate otherwise).

There'll be an additional curveball thrown at me this semester, for my first class of the day is an introductory course taught at 8 am, followed by a second session of the same course at 9 am. I'm okay with it; heck, I'd much rather do it at 8 am than 2 pm. No, the adventure with the 8 am classes - and I speak from experience - is with the students. I'll be interested to see how many of them think they can drag it in at five past the hour (which, no, you may not), and how many others will maintain that a class so early in the morning is some diabolical form of torture. If that's the case, sweetheart, the real world will be a rude awakening.

But, we'll get through it. Besides, it gets it over with first thing, and I like getting things over with first thing. It gets the hard stuff out of the way, and then the rest of the day is spent with a couple of upper-level seminars that are often a lot of fun. Once I'm accustomed to it, the semester should go well - or so I hope, anyway. For now, it's about one last look at everything before we move onward.

Bring it on

We finally got January-style weather here. It's a good morning for staying on the couch with a blanket in my lap and two sleepy cats snuggling with me while I take care of the last work-related chores before new semester begins. At least the academic year is halfway over, and Spring tends to be the semester that provides more fun for me. I can't say why. Maybe it's the "halfway over" part.

Aside from one extremely irritating element that's beyond my control at the present time, I feel good about the coming semester, and am looking forward to getting it done. A decade into my current post, I'm comfortable and confident. I know how to get most things I want accomplished. I pretty much know how to finesse any situation; which ones require an iron hand and which ones need the velvet touch. I've seen enough to discern when a student's shooting straight with me and when a student's laying down enough bull by-product to fertilize the Mojave. I've also lived through enough crises and turmoil to know what's worth worrying about, and what's probably going to blow over. I've developed the ability to endure, and surviving various crises in my life has taught me that if you're able to grit through it, you'll probably prevail - for, as the saying goes, no adversity lasts forever.

For me, the new semester is about showing up and performing. The homework's been done. Everything's ready. I just have to go out there and do my thing, while not letting the tedium get to me. I'm sure there will be a crisis or two along the way, as there always is; I'm also sure people will come to me wanting my assistance for one project or another, and I'll face the challenge of appropriately rationing myself (one of my resolutions for the new year is strengthening my ability to say "no" or "I decline" at appropriate times).

It's going to be a good semester. With the planning already done for work, and with the plan for my personal life all set, I feel better about things than I have in a long time. Let's get it started.

Travels with hubby

So I've mentioned we spent the week before Christmas down in Florida, doing some visiting. I hadn't been that far south in four years, and hadn't been to Florida itself in close to three. It was overdue, I think.

We left a couple Fridays ago, spending the night in Daytona Beach on the way down, then going the rest of the way the next morning. When we hit the Florida line, it didn't take long for me to remember how I-95 through Florida has mostly this sun-bleached, worn look. Many stretches of it look exactly the same as it did when I moved there almost a dozen years ago, but those stretches are becoming fewer and fewer. Development has taken root in once-forsaken places, and you're seeing civilization in places that were once deserted. It was interesting hearing hubby, whose family moved to Florida in the early '70s, compare how it is today to how it was in the '70s and '80s. It ain't the same, not at all.

By the time we were in Broward County, my memories of the place had come flooding back. There was a little nostalgia as I saw familiar places, but there were also definite reminders of why I left and didn't look back. So much I saw, I didn't miss. I didn't miss the traffic, the crowdedness, the development, you name it.

We got to where hubby's mother lives, and from then on, we were taken care of. We didn't want for anything the length of our stay, and that was nice. She made sure we had plenty to eat, and we spent a lot of time visiting. I'd brought a lot of work with me to get done, and a couple books to read, expecting the time to be sort of slow. As it happened, I had to pull myself away at a couple points so I could get my work done. It was indeed a pleasant visit. The weather was very nice the whole stay, only getting bothersome the night before we left, when it got humid. The rest of the time, it was lovely blue skies and mid-70s.

Not all our time was spent there. A couple days, we went out and explored. Hubby went looking for the places he grew up and showed me other places he remembered. We drove around the local airports, watching airplanes and seeing what had changed. We visited the hobby shops, finding one had changed drastically since our last visit and the other as remembered. And we made the all-important pilgrimage here. And it was good. Very good. If there's one material thing I mourn every time we have to leave South Florida, it's that we have to leave that place behind. That's how good it is.

Thursday of last week, we loaded up and started the journey home. We reached Daytona Beach early afternoon, had some lunch, and then spent a couple hours cruising around town seeing what's changed. In some ways, this stop on the way home was the most fun. Hubby was in the midst of the most time off work he'd had in a while, and he was in very good spirits, happily exploring a town he knew well and telling me tales from his days there. He was happy and I was happy, and I was reminded how much I love having him. It was one of the most blissful things I've enjoyed in a while. We retired to our hotel room and spent the evening watching television and finishing off the baked goods his mother sent home with us. (Tough job, but someone's gotta do it.)

Next morning we woke up and completed the journey home. I'd had a great time, much better than anticipated, but it sure felt good to get home. The mighty tiger and the mountain lion were happy to see us. Though my folks had come over to look in on them at about our trip's midpoint, both feline critters were starved for affection. Before we even got near the door, we could hear their meows...uh, I mean, "roars" even in the garage. We couldn't unload the truck all at once because we had to come inside and let them love on us for a little bit. They spent the rest of the evening being very clingy. It's nice to be wanted.

After the week's travels it felt great to spend a night at home, in all the familiar comforts you leave behind, to go to sleep in your own bed and all that. Next morning was Christmas Eve, and hubby spent the whole day baking. I spent most of the day making sure the young and very inquisitive mountain lion stayed out of his way. Everything got done, and it was good.

Christmas day came. After exchanging cards and gifts, we got ready to drive over to see my family, and got there about lunchtime. After so many days of sweets, I wanted to sob when I was finally able to eat something salty and savory, as some things were in the spread my mother laid on. We did the gift-giving thing (and my nieces really cleaned up, for my parents really love to spoil their grandchildren), then spent some time over at my brother's. Then it was back home.

One more day with hubby at home. Monday was quiet, very nicely so. He'd enjoyed his time off and shed a lot of stress. I was happy to see him so laid-back, and it was a little sad to have to let him go back to work. But it's part of life.

The next day came, and he went back to work. I woke up, had a normal breakfast, did my normal morning routine, and then went off to do the errands that had gone undone for too long. No more sweets, no more unusual routines, none of that again for another year. In some ways, I'm glad to let it go, and there was a little bit of satisfaction in getting back to a normal routine and getting some things done that needed to be done. But I do have to say the last two weeks brought more unexpected enjoyment than I've had in a while, and I'm thankful.

A new year and new projects

Another year's close to being in the books, and I've accomplished a lot. Maybe not as much as I would have liked, but I set my sights high anyway; still, I look at what I've done this year, and though I'm aware of where I fell short I'm still happy I got as much done as I did.

I used to look at each new year with a little bit of dread, because it felt like starting over again. It's completely psychological, because it's not like you wake up on the first of January and everything's suddenly a different color. For whatever reason, that's not bothering me this time around, and instead I'm looking at the new year as a chance for new opportunities, and new projects I've wanted to do for a long time.

There are some big things I want to do - this coming year, for instance, is when I hope to finally close the deal on flight training, and I've done just about everything I can to this point to make sure it happens. After the first of the year, that's when I can finally make it real. So that's the big thing. But there are other, smaller projects to which I'm looking forward. There's certain kits up in the stash that I've sort of promised myself as new projects. This new year, finally, it'll happen, I tell myself.

As for work? Well, coming into the new year with everything all planned out will take out a lot of stress. But there are new ideas I want to try, and I hope by the Fall term things will be exactly where I want them. I'm hoping, for instance, to finally acquire a gizmo or two that I've been wanting, and the ability to use that kind of technology in the classroom will simplify things an awful lot. Between that, and the quiet confidence I have in my ability to do my work, things should be better than ever.

Once upon a time a new year would fill me with dread. For whatever reason, 2012 doesn't, and I'm looking forward to this new sheet of paper. For a new sheet of paper allows you to draw whatever you want on it.

Cleaning house

A couple weeks ago I finished things up, calculated my final grades, and then started taking my office apart. I found it addictive. There were a lot of papers I no longer needed, a bunch of stuff I was keeping for no apparent reason, and some other things that just needed to be gone. By the time it was over, I'd filled four paper cartons with old documents to be shredded, another with stuff for recycling, and another document box with stuff that I didn't throw away, but no longer needed in the office. (That box came home with me.)

It didn't stop there. The stuff that remained in my filing cabinets all got rearranged, organized and labeled. For perhaps the first time since I took this job, my files are in order. My desk has been cleaned out, with only the stuff I need to keep remaining there. There's still some tweaking I'll need to do, but the difference is huge, and the psychological lift is immense.

The other day I did the same for my data. I keep all my documents on an 8GB USB drive, and the poor thing was groaning under the weight of all the documents and other files I kept on it. I had files on there that were a decade or more old, and much of it was stuff I never used. So I backed the thing up to my external hard drive, then sorted through its contents, keeping only the documents I really needed and deleting everything else. It now has seven free gigabytes, more than I'll ever really need.

There's something that feels very good about coming into a new year and carrying a little less baggage than you were before. The office, and the things I keep to support my work, are now lean and purposeful. I like that feeling.

Almost

Last day of keeping office hours is today. I've been industrious this week, freeing up a lot of space in my once-cluttered office, and it's now a happier place (well, as offices go). There's a lot of stuff I no longer need to keep, and a lot more that I'd kept but never used. Out it goes. I'll spend part of the morning sorting through, figuring out which documents need secure destruction and which won't. The stuff that doesn't will go in the recycling container. The stuff that needs secure destruction will be dealt with later.

I'm one of those folks with a weird filing system. My stuff normally ends up in a pile, or hurriedly put into a desk drawer, or in a stack on my desk. Not a good long-term strategy. Going through all my stuff has given me an excuse to actually get it organized, and that's been helpful. The trick will be if I can stick to that system of organization, or if I revert to my old system instead. Oh, well.

If nothing else, this week's efforts mean I've done something constructive with all this time, and not just sat around consuming bandwidth and watching the clock. That's a good thing.

The quiet

I'm being reminded why this time of year is a favorite, and that's the fact that nightfall begins earlier. By 6:30 this time of year it's pitch dark outside. I hate driving in it (anybody who lives in the woods will tell you why, for reduced visibility means you sometimes don't see Bambi until it's too late) but I love the evenings.

Last evening was a perfect example: sitting on the couch, computer in my lap, one cat snuggled up next to me and the other sleeping away on his blanket on the other couch. It was quiet in the house, with only the refrigerator's low hum and the ticking of the clock. Earlier in the day, my grades had been turned in and I'd cleaned up my office; I'd exercised, taken care of a few tasks. I'd had a not-bad cup of coffee. I had several new books to read, all of them on subjects that fascinate me. There are still tasks to get done in the coming weeks, sure, but they could wait; besides, I know how I'll handle them when the time comes. Last night was a night for enjoying the calm, the coffee, and the books.

I've talked before about how I savor travel, about the pictures I keep in my head of Alaska and of Seattle; about how when I'm in those places, I tell myself to enjoy the moment so those memories will sustain me through the turbulence and tedium of the school year. Sure, I love those moments, and I can't wait to return to make more memories. But I'd say moments like those last night are no less important. The work provides the means for the travel, but the work also provides the means for the books, and for the house out in the quiet woods, and for so many little things I too often take for granted. It's important to remember just how precious those things are, too.

Waiting and waiting

Later this morning I'll go in, and the one task I absolutely must do will take no longer than ten minutes. Then there's a meeting I must attend, although I've already had an individual meeting on the matter and will therefore be doing little other than just sitting there putting in a required appearance. From there, for the rest of the week, it'll be me sitting in my office, using three hours of my life to do nothing but drill a hole in time while trying not to stay overly annoyed by certain things.

There's a reason I do this. Experience has taught me that as long as students are around, there's always the potential something will happen. The moment you're not there, that's when a Crisis will hit. That will be, for instance, when the student who had planned to graduate will have some last-minute complication (at least half the time, because of something they failed to do previously) that will require your guidance, if not intervention. Or there will be a phone call from the parent of a student, wanting something. Other times, it'll be someone else in the organization who needs you for something, or who needs something from you. Experience has taught me that these things always come when you're not there. So that's why I'm keeping office hours this week, even though no students are likely to come by: I'm there just in case. At least the hours I'm keeping are truncated, which helps. Just a little, but it helps.

I'm going to be very glad when exam week is over and the campus gets quiet - and even though I'll be on the road 48 hours later, I'll be happy when graduation is history, too.