Being home with the boys is more fun with friends. On Friday, S & G went to the park with their friend Isabel and her new baby brother. The boys didn’t even notice the baby! They were too excited to play with her, air up the tires in their stroller, and when it came time to walk home, they were thrilled (in all senses of the word) to walk home through the deep, dark woods. The time change made it really dark when we got home.
Saturday, we got a bunch of apples at the farmer’s market. Seamus is practicing saying, “Grandaddy, we got you a bunch of apples because we know you like to peel them.” Hahahaha! Then we went to Trader Joe’s and Gilbert asked for stickers, please! I took my students on a field trip to the Frederick Douglass National Historic Site. About half of the students were really impacted and impressed by the site, and the other half were seriously resentful that they had to be there. I was intrigued by how much they had been able to preserve, and I was interested in the self-heating irons, especially because I wondered if they had ever caught fire.
Saturday night P and I went to Chantilly to one of his colleagues’ house. Fun times, but I was most interested in the flier on their fridge of the National Portrait Gallery’s current exhibit on Modern Poets what fun to take students to that as well. Or to go by myself.
Sunday, Liz and I went to a new yoga studio in our Groupon expedition to find all the best yoga around these parts. I know we should pick a studio and commit, but it’s fun to try them all out. She’s embarking on a very interesting journey. Speaking of journeys, P and I took the boys to his school yesterday to an Admissions Open House to see if the Junior Kindergarten would be a good fit for Seamus. They had a tub of rice for kids to play in. It was pretty cool and Gilbert did not want to leave the rice. I said, “Maybe we should make one of these at home.” P said, “No!” I now understand why there was always a sign on the pinto beans bin in New Mexico that said, very sternly, “Do not allow children to play in the beans.”
We raced home and I went to an event at my dean’s house with my friend. It was a good party, but there was a pall over the festivities because our colleague was back in the ICU after his heart surgery last spring. Last night he passed away. He taught Modern American Literature, Short Fiction, Lit of the 1930s, and other classes. He was demanding and mild. I love having students who have been through his writing classes. I say, “Take this information with a grain of salt” and I never said that before I met him. He was one of the people who interviewed me for my job here. Finally, in funny story form, I got a lot of complaints my first semester here that my exams were too hard, so I went to ask Sean what his exams were like. He sent one to me, and I looked at it and thought, “I don’t know if I would pass this!” We will miss him. RIP, Sean.