Labor Day.  And I’m laboring.  Not sure what realm of thought or realization this would be–psychology of metaphysics or Philosophy, but there seems to be a connection with everything, everything.  I realized this when Jack and I first came downstairs and the coffee was finally ready.  On The Road, being high on the notion of the Road– on possibility and promise and everything that’s ahead.. the same way that Kerouac wrote, with little deliberation, with little forethought and editing and stress of page presence, I will do the same with everything in teaching:

teaching blog post for the morning:  Please offer a couple passages from the weekend reading that we should have noted in our journals, that could be of use to us later.  And, tell us why they’re significant and why they attracted your attention/why they should be seen as valuable…

Posted.  Jack watches one of his cartoons on his day off and I’m on the floor working..  Coffee nearly done and Alice is at the JC with her workout buddy.  Can’t remember her name, but she’s a certified trainer or specialist or something.  Heard from Dav, he received my email letter but insists in responding in real writing, “old school style” he wrote in a message.  I feel failed.  I say I don’t have time to write my dear friend, that I don’t have time to stop by a post office.  I don’t need to.  I could just drop it in the mail slot by the Chinese restaurant or the 7-11.  One of them.  There’s no excuse not to write, I mean really write your friend, I say to myself.

I’m definitely headed to to Mom and Dad’s today to work.  One hour devoted to each class for grading, then write for a bit.  Want to spend time with Jackie and Ms. Alice.  She’s making some meatloaf recipe acquired from her mother– said in the 35 Laws that I’d cook more.  Another one I haven’t at all obeyed.  Crystal devoured by harvest, haven’t tried to contact Bob as I feel odd with courting his department chair at SSU, Scott’s in town but busy finishing something and has turned off all devices and means of contacting him (wish I could do that) and Glenn, I believe, is still in NY.  Why?  Is he going to stay there, move back?  But what about the nucleus?

The winery’s characters– need to make a list, like Kerouac legends I’ve found during research, who’s who if you know what I mean.  Like Carlo Marx is Ginsberg and Kerouac is Paradise and Burroughs is Old Bull Lee.  Now I’m getting antsy with everything, I should write it down if I want to fictionalize the winery appropriately, make a novel out of it or have it be a chapter or vignette or three.

Up to make more coffee.  And I’ll note everything today, everything in the museum Alice is taking us to, to the sounds from Mom and Dad’s deck, that view, the intense sun but I think I can hide under that new overhang and behind those screen pull-downs with the microscopic squares.  It’ll be relaxing and just what I need to put myself ahead of the students and their progress and the lesson progression for the semester.  Where’s the Comp Book?…  In my bag of course.

Wednesday will be Day 5.  Should start with my letter to the students, but even before that, a reading and assignment plan for the rest of the term.  Jackie leans against me, here on the floor.  We lean back against the couch and talk, he asks repeatedly, “Dada, a doing?” I smile and feel guilty for working in his presence.

Making a list of what I want done, and I mean DONE today.

No misses today.  Tomorrow at the winery I won’t wish I was at home working.  I won’t need such time as all’s being logged, graded, finished and written today…  Settled.