It's beginning to look ...

... a wee bit like Christmas around my house.Or maybe just the North Pole?

Trimming the Tree

Aw ... isn't this cute? They brought out their red and green trucks to trim the trees. Talk about holiday spirit.

Yes, Virginia, Autumn Really Does Come to Central Texas

Well ... sorta ... you'll note the green green grass ...


But it's cold (by our standards--in the 40's). And blustery. And feels like winter.

And makes me very very happy.

S.I.G.H.

watch ... and dream ... and sigh ...

A Very Nice Surprise Indeed

Imagine my surprise.

I opened the mailbox, only to find a magazine I was sure I didn't order inside. Normally that wouldn't be a worrisome harbinger, but then you probably haven't heard my saga of the never-ending arrivals of Maxim magazine, which I promise I did not subscribe to--nor can I figure out how they're being paid for--or how to make them stop. Have you ever seen Maxim? Trust me. You do not want the mailman thinking you subscribe to such a publication.

But back to the good.

I opened the package and found a nice, new issue of Artists' Cafe, by Somerset Studio. "Ok," I thought. "Hmmmm. Did I subscribe and not remember?" That's certainly possible.

Then I looked at the mailing envelope again .... "artcomp." Oh! Does that mean .... ?

I rushed to the table of contents, scanned down ... and down ... and down ... ok, next page ... and ... there I was. Wow. I haven't sent anything to Somerset for a long time, so how ...

... Oh ... OH! There it was, on the masthead: "Best of Somerset Studio Art & Design." BEST OF.

Including my lil' ole article from several years ago.

Now that's a very nice surprise indeed.

Students Say the Darndest Things

Here's an actual email a colleague received from one of her students last week:

Dr. x,
I was wanting to know would who alone to do one more essays for extra credit. Just want to know not suggest it

I'm not sure if it's a good thing, but I was finally able to figure out what the student's asking. Of course, that may be the final sign I've been doing this too long.

And, in case you're wondering, we have very few English-as-a-second language students at our college. Nope, that student stands beside you in the voting booth, as they say. Well, probably not, because, you know, you actually have to be able to find the voting booth first.

Yep. College.

P.S. In case you think that letter is just an anomaly, here are a few of the gems I've gotten this semester (I've responded to 392 emails this fall, and I'm not even teaching online):

• yes thak you
  
• Hi, this is x. I am a bit frustrated cause for some reason, I have had trouble finding sources or groups for the event, Neil Armstrong walking on the moon.
  
• please mam, i cant print out my essay, can u just look at it and i''ll find another means to print it out.
  
• I also want to thank you for well I guess the best word would be putting up with my abscenes and laziness early this semester.
  
• This is x I'm am supposed to meet with you today at 1145 but a friend really needed me to take her work shift at 12 so I won't be able to make it. Please let me know when you get this message
  
• now I have the flu and dissenter
  
• Ok so i know this is late in the day kind of but i was absent all last week when everybody went to the library and recieved extra help on the source analysis well im completely confused.
  
• Hey! I just wanted to let you know that I have not fallen off the face of the earth, I'm just really not feeling well.
  
• i know this is late but i tried to do as much as i could because i dont want you to think im not trying or just not doing my homework i just need to meet so we can talk..thank you and im sorry..
  

. . . me, too.

A (Workout) Room of Her Own

I've never really been a beauty parlor kind of gal. There's just something about all that female bonding over finger nail polish and permanent waves that makes me feel ... well ... that one of my DNA polymers must have misfired a time or two somewhere down the road to adulthood.

I'm just not good at chit-chat. Too serious, you know.

So you have to wonder why I joined Curves--the beauty parlor version of a gym ... without the pesky hairdryers, nail stations, and clouds of perfume.

Case in point: During my workout yesterday, the ever-polished and very sweet employee who signed me up (let's call her Sweet D) kept up a steady banter with the other clients doing the circuit ... all about whose husband had had a stroke ... did you see x's new haircut ... no not that one the other one ... is that a new workout suit ... where's your mom this week ... aw, what anniversary is it ... and so on. And on. And on.

Me? I just worked the machines and concentrated on muscle groups. I was probably frowning the whole time. It's my native state, I'm pretty sure.

Later, when I finished my workout, Sweet D, who had led me through the maze of machines and "recovery stations," called out, "Jennifer just finished her first work-out, y'all!"

And everyone applauded.

And it seemed like they really meant it, offering congratulations and encouragement. And they were all smiling and laughing. And I don't think any of them were on drugs.

Seriously.

I'm going back this afternoon. To get in better shape. And maybe learn a new language along the way.

It's never too late, they say, to open the door ... to a new room.