November 10: Down from His Cross, Parent/Teacher Conferences, Excellence in Part-Time Faculty Teaching Award

Now his snoozing became shallower as he heard a man and a woman speaking German in pitying tones.  The speakers were commiserating with somebody lyrically.  Before Billy opened his eyes, it seemed to him that the tones might have been those used by the friends of Jesus when they took His ruined body down from His cross.  So it goes.

Billy opened his eyes.  A middle-aged man and wife were crooning to the horses.  They were noticing what the Americans had not noticed--that the horses' mouths were bleeding, gashed by the bits, that the horses' hooves were broken, so that every step meant agony, that the horses were insane with thirst.  The Americans had treated their form of transportation as though it were no more sensitive than a six-cylinder Chevrolet.

I am sorry that I didn't post last night.  Like Billy at the end of the war, I found myself in bed, snoozing, at around nine o'clock last night.  I didn't really wake up until my alarm clock went off at six this morning.  I didn't hear crooning Germans or horses in pain while I slept.  No Jesus-down-from-His-cross sounds.  I was dead to the world for a good nine hours.

The last couple weeks have been incredibly busy and incredibly exhausting, from the week before Halloween until now.  Yesterday evening, I went to parent/teacher conferences with my wife.  It was really gratifying to hear so many people tell us how polite and smart our kids are.  And then, after that, we went out to dinner to celebrate a little.

I found out yesterday afternoon that I have been given the inaugural Excellence in Part-Time Faculty Teaching Award from the university where I teach.  I knew that I had been nominated, but I really didn't think that I stood a chance.  There are a lot of excellent contingent professors at the university.  Since it's the first time that the award is being given, I thought it would probably go to some contingent in the sciences.  Instead, it went to me.  A poet and writing teacher.

So, I had a few drinks last night because of that news.  It's going to be a very good Christmas because of the money that accompanies the award.

So, tonight, Saint Marty is thankful for unexpected blessings.

May 7: Chocolate Milk Head, Crunchy, Home

We are home, and I am tired.  We got home over an hour ago, and everything is unpacked and put away.  The trip today was uneventful, except for a small chocolate milk incident.

As Desi Arnez might say, "Let me 'splain."

We stopped at a McDonald's right after we crossed the Mackinac Bridge.  As we were sitting in the play area, my wife was suddenly showered from above by chocolate milk.  All over her head and down her back.  It seems a little girl brought her drink to the top of the structure, and then she tripped while walking through the catwalk above my wife.  By the way, the little girl was the daughter of one of the managers at the restaurant.  So, the manager gave us a whole bunch of free stuff.  Cookies.  An apple pie.

But, my wife's hair is a little crunchy and sticky tonight.  No double entendre intended.  I myself am feeling a little crunchy and sticky, but that's the result of being in a car for nearly nine hours today.

Saint Marty will be back to normal blogs tomorrow.  He's going to bed now.

Just add whipped cream and a cherry!