Shot With the Flu and Ready for a Vicki Soto Run, All While Teaching a Grad Course. Hello, Halloween!

The flu line opened at 11 a.m.

I was in it by 11:05. I handed over all my medical cards and the lady was like, "Which one do you want me to use?" I responded, "I rarely use them. You choose."

The flu-shot was free to faculty and, to be honest, I didn't feel a thing. Last year, I bypassed free shots and I swear I had the flu from December to May, so this year I wasn't taking any chances. If the University was giving it for free, I wouldn't mind the lines...and I didn't.

My day began at 7:30 a.m. and ended at 10:15 p.m. when I got home from teaching. Glamis, the Wonder Dog, refused to go out when I had to leave, so I came home to let her out. She still refused, but I made her go. The drizzle is miserable, yes, but a dog has to pee. Go, already.

I also stopped by the Vicki Soto headquarters to get my bib number and pins for the 5K on Saturday, one of my favorite runs each year.

It is a reminder of my love for teachers and kids, and the fact that school shootings are real...they affect our communities...they touch the lives of many, and we have a problem. I did not know Vicki Soto, but I've come to know her through the family and friends who have kept her memory alive - making positive out of a horrible, horrific and terrible tragedy that should have never happened in the greatest nation ever to have a history in the world.

Some might ask, "Why do such shootings continue to happen, then?" Well, there's a good question to be answered. I invite you to look into it.

I will be running. I will continue to push my definition of GOOD into the world. I will take pride in the community around me that chooses love over hate.

And I will always advocate for the pro-kid, pro-teacher and pro-diversity mantra.

Last night, we spent the evening analyzing and interpreting art, writing, and a believe in the Power of Words. In my head, however, I was thinking about yesterday, the history of our communities, the reality of mass shootings and the need to uplift our kids and schools.

I may be protected from the flu, in theory, but there's no protection from the madness. Their could be a vaccine, but we know full-well that politics trumps sanity (pun intended).

It should be simple, but humans suck and make it complex. So, I keep my eyes open, I see, I watch, I observe and I listen.

Then I act. Actions speak louder than words. 

Nothing Like Visiting CWP Teachers in Their Schools To Learn What's New in Writing Instruction

Yesterday, I went into several classrooms to learn with CWP teachers and their students about the writing they've been doing since the 2019 Invitational Leadership Institute. I was delighted to hear from Amy Collins and Mykala Heiden, 3rd grade instructors at Curiale in Bridgeport and witness the ways they are combining language arts and special education instruction (two of the recipients of a Noble Trust fellowship this past summer). On the door was the mantra, "Ubuntu: I am, because we are!" and it was easily seen by the work the young people were doing. I was thrilled to learn, too, that they were implementing not only writer's notebooks, but math, science, and social studies notebooks, too, where washi tape was in force, writing strategies, reading support and guided instructional practices to help all the learners learn.

The kids were anxious to share their writing with me and I was lucky to sit at a desk and have them read their work, one by one, excited to demonstrate that they ARE writers and they LOVE learning with their teachers.

Aniyah, one of the students, like the others, had her yearlong writing goal taped to the top of her composition book: My goal this year is to try a new type of writing. Her notebook was loaded with examples of many types of writing: writing to learn, writing to interpret, writing to imagine, writing to narrate, writing to inform and writing to explain. I told the teachers I was extremely impressed by how many pages were filled so early in the school year.

What was most impressive, however, was the support for all students - Ms. Heiden at a table with some of the learners, Ms. Collins at another, and several students working independently and in groups on the writing task(s) of the day.

It was easily seen that Curiale 3rd graders in their care are a community of growing writers, who see written communication as a means to write their lives and their worlds.

My heart grew a few inches as a result, especially as I prepare for graduate course instruction and continue to reflect on the successes from this past summer.

It drizzled all day and the skies were murky gray. Still, in their room, with these learners, the sun was shining and the warmth was everywhere.

I need to get in classrooms more. This was a wonderful visit!

Happy Tuesday! My New Favorite Treat: McCain Smiley-Face Potatoes. Comfort Food For a Monday.

I was introduced to these beauties a few weekends ago and now I'm an addict. The goal is to get them good and tanned so they are crispy on the outside, and mushy-good on the inside. They are a fantastic addition to the potato-eating family.

And they are smiling at you as you eat them.

This was a Monday night treat to go with another evening of grilling out, after replacing vents on the outside ducts that blew away with the winds of Sunday's rain storm. Yes, I had to climb up on a ladder and replace those plastic boogers that broke away with the winds over the last few weeks.

I'm feeling domestic and accomplished.

We are at Tuesday and I have to do a round in public schools to support the teachers from this summer's invitational leadership institute and then I need to attend to the graduate courses needing to be taught. I'm also focused on the conferences coming this way and the applications needing to be completed in the weeks to come.

A good run and a fantastic walk with Glamis the Wonder Dog had my appetite up, so the smiling faces were the perfect solution. Okay, Tuesday, we got this. I don't think I'll have time to grill or bake like the last couple of days, but I will have the memory of the potato-noggins that offered me their grin on Monday's meal. So, so good.

Huge props to McCain's taters. Reminds me of the meals I had in Belgium when I was a 19-year old.

Hot Diggity Dog. It's Already Monday Again. But At Least Today It Won't Rain Like Yesterday.

I wasn't prepared for yesterday. I knew it was supposed to rain, but I didn't know it was going to be a deluge of water for 12 hours, from 5 a.m. to 5 p.m. - I knew the weather turned when the open window in my bedroom began to shake and all the house rattled. The optimist in me said, "Yeah. This will be good for my new blueberry plants; they say October rain is good for summer harvest."

It rained. And rained. And rained. There were no cars on the street because it was too miserable to be outdoors. Groceries could wait, which I realized at 5:30, after a Star Wars marathon and grading, when I went to Big Y and people were beginning to venture out. I also took my Kohl's cash and picked up birthday gifts for the twins (a little late, I know) and then came home and walked Glamis on her usual 3.2 mile trek in the dark.

The laundry was put away and I did my best to stay away from work responsibilities simply to take care of Mt. Pleasant ones (which is hard for me to do).

I wanted to grill out, but ended up frying hotdogs on the stove and eating reheated vegetables from Friday night's gathering with Kris, Dave, Ish, William and Jessica. Just like that, the weekend disappears.

The next couple of weeks is 100% conference-preparation time as it is back to back Writing Our Lives, NCTE and LRA. It will be great to unite with friends of CWP-Fairfield and I'm proud of the team doing the work with me this year.

Last week wiped me out with sabbatical applications and grants, so I needed this weekend to be a little less cerebral (and you know you're a dork when you get excited about grading - I'm now caught up).

So here's to another work week. We got this world!

It's The Small Steps In Life, The Pennies, That Can Bring Us The Greatest Satisfaction

When I walk, I never bypass a penny without picking them up. It doesn't matter if it is heads up, or tails, I carry it home and pluck it into my penny jar. In my quest to declutter, however, I decided it's time to bring the copper nuggets to the bank, but Chase no longer has their coin counter so I took them to CoinStar, licking my lips thinking, "I bet I have 700 pennies in this jar.'

With an evil laugh I say, "This $7 is all for me, FOR ME, mwah ha ha,"

I am proud to say, however, I missed the guess. I actually profited with 1,800 pennies, so had $18 for me.

Mwah ha ha.

So much change, so many piles here and there: on railings, desks, in the car, in the change jar, on the tables and on my dressers. Currently, though, I am without any pennies, because I have enough money to buy a gallon of milk and a box of cereal. If I am really mischievous, I might even go to McDonalds and get a Big Mac meal. All those pennies for guilty pleasure.

Actually, I simply used the money for groceries, and I have no idea what they helped buy.

It's supposed to be a rain day and I'm hoping my brain will cooperate with me and get into a writing/research pace. I took most of yesterday off, walking the dog and then going for a walk to Stripe's Yellow, Kathy Silver - who joined me for a stroll in Lordship and short beach - walk-n-talks are the best.

Happy Sunday, friends. It's time to kick of the day.

So, It Is Saturday and, Well, I Don't Know Where To Begin With This Weekend. Why? The Bags Under My Eyes

She has no right to complain. She was walked, she was entertained, she had friends over and extra food, and she had much attention. Still, she's a dog, and it's never enough.

I spent yesterday in my office  - the ghost town it was - where I was able to submit a grant, prepare for 5 presentations at NCTE and organize for classes next week.

I took the evening to have friends over and to host, perhaps, the last barbecue of the summer (strategically organizing with fellow presenters for the NCTE conference and catching up with friends). The food was great.

It also gave me a Friday need to clean and I did just that - before the company came - and I'm thankful that I did.

Now it is Saturday and the lawn needs to be mowed (last time for the season), the laundry needs to be folded, and I also have to think about LRA.

I have leftovers in the fridge, however, and that is a very good Saturday indeed. Here's to Saturday and Sunday (and light blog posts because I'm too tired to tape anything more significant than a few lines.

I do have Glamis's ears, though. She is always 100% seeking attention. I have to love her for that.

With Another Thursday in Stag-Country Writing Grants, I'm Hoping Friday Will Be For Preparing for @NCTE & @LRA_LitResearch

My dossier for tenure told an honest story that, post-dissertation, I imagined a trajectory that would be quite different. Yes, I knew I wanted a National Writing Project position and, of course, I wanted to promote youth literacies and the professional expertise of teacher educators. I did not know, though, that funding sources to do such work would be under attack at State and National levels, nor that I would turn into a grant-writing machine in order to do what I know is effective for young people and schools. With almost two decades in K-12 schools, I like to think that teachers and their students are the superheroes of the nation. They matter most.

Perhaps this is why twice in the last month, I've stopped everything to write grants in hopes I'll be able to continue work with the Young Adult Literacy Labs at the Connecticut Writing Project and to sustain teacher institutes which are at the core of National Writing Project work. Since 2011, I've been successful at attaining over a million dollars in grants and revenue streams, but each and every year I grow fearful that it might be the year that everything dries up. I look to my teaching teams, the local school districts and the young people who come back year to year and I get fearful the support will dwindle away. There should just be support, but there's not. It requires grant-writing, sleeplessness, and networking to the billionth degree.

So yesterday, I worked with a colleague to put together another grant in hopes it will be funded to continue the wonderful work we do. By afternoon, I returned to my office to grade and by evening the grading continued. When a calendar-meeting invite came my way at bedtime, I looked at the calendar and thought, "Eeks. Are we that close to NCTE and LRA, already?"

We are.

The other day, when I was leaving, I walked out with a colleague who is a profoundly successful scholar in religious studies and he asked me how things were going. I responded, "I'm going home for  a walk. I need a break from all the cerebral work." He squinted an eye and said, "Cerebral work is what we get paid for. You can't take a break."

True. But I do. I need alternative forms forms of existence from time to time. Mowing the lawn is an absolute pleasure, as is cleaning the house and car. I simply love doing physical work as a relief, and walking the talk or running a 5K is nirvana. Teaching is physical, yes, but also cerebral. Sometimes, I just don't want to think. I want mindlessness and muscle.

Ah, but when I'm not thinking, that's usually when my best ideas surface.

This morning I am looking at all the presentations that were accepted with colleagues and teachers across the nation who will be presenting with me over the next two months (and I am thinking, "What the hell was I thinking?"). I am seeing deadlines, too, of end-of-the-semester angst and realizing all I can do is hold my breath as it all flows my way. Everything evolved at exactly the right time and what will be, will be.

I also remember that when I was doing doctoral work at Syracuse University there were two experiences that registered in my brain during similar fear-driven moments of the academic process. One was from an assistant provost who said, "We're training you for a rhythm in life, kid, that you'll have to get used to," and another from a mentor, Dr. Kathleen Hinchman, who said, "Crandall, this is what we do."

It is. And it is exhausting. It's also beautiful, challenging, never-ending, frustrating, rewarding and non-forgiving.

So, onward I go. Everything evolves at exactly the right time. This is written for everyone and all who ebb & flow in such fluidity.

It's the 24th of October and That Means It's K.Dot C. Dot Day...Other Wise Known as the Lil' Sis's B-Day

Happy Birthday, Casey (KC).

I will be 50 before you, so you can relax. Cynde gets there before both of us. Last night in class, a teacher prompted us to write a letter to our future self or past self, and I went with historical me, only because I came across so many photos and videos on an external hard-drive I haven't opened since moving to Connecticut. I naturally began sharing them, but know I saved the others for today (they are in a file that can't be read on Blogger so will send via the phone).

This, of course, led to yesteryear - videos of the all the times I watched the boys and all the holidays of the past and the movies I shot and edited. How easy it is to forget about those, but seeing them sparks all types of precious memories, but also triggers the hauntingly fast age creeps upon all of us, including the little ones who are far from little any more.

KC's Birthday - 2008
KC's Birthday - 2009
KC's Birthday - 2010
KC's Birthday - 2011
KC's Birthday - 2012 (No Blog Post)(???)
KC's Birthday - 2013 (Made up for missing 2012)
KC's Birthday - 2014 (Couldn't beat 2013)
KC's Birthday - 2015
KC's Birthday - 2016
KC's Birthday - 2017
KC's Birthday - 2018

And then there is this year, but I will be sending videos via phone that wouldn't make it here. Instead, I will post a photo of me in Rebecca Marsick's scarf. She left it and wondered if it was returned to the GSEAP office. Long story short, Graduate students found it and delivered it to me. I HAVE YOUR SCARF, REBECCA! It's not my color, but it is safe and sound in my office, where I am heading early this morning with bags under my eyes (Wednesdays are such a late night).

Here's hoping the birthday cake is extra delicious and that the gifts and cards arrive on time. Meanwhile, let the memories continue and may you have time to reflect on changes in your own life.

Glamis Says, You've Been Every-Weir, But Home Lately. She Wonders If I Will Stay Put for Once

It didn't take long for Glamis the Wonder-Dog to convince me it's better to let her lounge on the furniture than fight her every other minute in our mornings and evenings together. This morning, however, I was comforted by the fact that Ranger Kristin gave me a Weir-Farm coffee mug to thank me for the year-3 collaboration. It's the perfect size and, like my LWP mug from 2001, one that I cherish. Somehow coffee tastes much better when it's poured into a memory, an artifact, and a special time/place from one's past.

I believe Glamis was also relieved that I came home at a decent hour and took her for a walk. She's been at the Pam-sitters because of my travel to Philly, and had me away at Weir Farm, so when I settled in last night to plan for today, I saw a calm come over her.

I'm transitioning to a day of coursework with my graduate students and spent time reading ol' friends, the Kellys: Kelly Chandler-Olcott and Kelly Gallagher, and of course Graham, MacArthur and Hebert's Best Practices in Writing Instruction (3rd ed). Two of the texts are new for me this year, and as an educator, it is always fun to see/learn/create the ways the individual books talk to each other to create a two-hour graduate course.

So much of Kelly Chandler-Olcott's book adds a deeper, richer dimension to the ways I've been teaching writing for years. First, I was lucky to be with her during year one of her four year study at Robinson High School. Second, as always, Kelly is thorough with her detail and examples from the research, and third, the knowledge complements everything I've been teaching from Gallagher and the Best Practices series. Tonight, I will be able to lead a workshop that ties all of the readings together, including examples from year 1 and then a follow-up with what the teachers and young people who participated in Reading Landscapes: Writing Nature in the 21st Century accomplished during this year's National Write Out and National Day on Writing Activities.

Also beautiful is the fact that this week's Best Practices chapter was on "Writing to Learn" and I photographed a page for Karen Romano Young, who graced us with her expertise at Weir Farm. As the CT Award-Winning Non-Fiction for Young Readers winner, her artistry in doodles, scientific writing, and inquiry make for a brilliant pairing. She loved the passages I sent her, validating why I know her work is so important for educators and students.

It's not supposed to rain today, I'm scheduled for a haircut and walk with Glamis, then it's off to teach (and write - there's always writing).

Happy Hump Day. I can't keep track of the blurring ideas any more. Blink of an eye.

Shouting out to @richnovack on a Tuesday Morning. It is Teacher Leaders Like Him who Make the Greatest Impact.

This is a celebration of the power of teachers...the power of teacher leaders...the National Writing Project's mission to invest in the brilliance and activism of educators who take place-based practices and turn them into visions that can benefit others.

When the National Writing Project first reached out to me with the proposition of collaborating with a local National Historic Park Site, my first reaction was, "I have to tap Rich for his expertise." Rich Novack was in my first cohort of educators at the Connecticut Writing Project, and I had this doggie ear in my mind that he was passionate about nature, thrilled by words, and a tremendous advocate for getting kids outdoors (many invested their vision within him, and he took their mentorship to heart).

Fast forward from 2011 to 2017 when I reached out to Rich to ask, "How would you like to lead a National Writing Project initiative between CWP-Fairfield and Weir Park National Historic Site?"

Um, yes.

Since then, Rich Novack and I have collaborated with Park Ranger Kristin Lessard on 3-years of collaborative work. As Rich works on his own doctoral studies, as well as teaches full time and parents two (husbands one), he maintains a vision for ecoliteracy and criticism that he's brought to the teacher programming he's led at Weir Farm, as well as our 3rd year project - to include more youth participants.

Yesterday, we hosted 26 young people at Weir Farm in collaboration with the teachers receiving professional development with the Reading Landscapes: Writing Nature in the 21st Century initiative. As we left year 3, day 3, Rich said to me, "We should have included youth all along."

This year, following a Noble Trust grant on inclusive storytelling, Rich arranged to have students from his school to learn along students from Weston Public Schools as we collaborated on professional development with Weir Farm National Historic Site.

There is nothing like the brilliance of young people in any setting. It was a wise move. Also smart was the invitation of writer/author/doodle Karen Romano Young. What an incredible asset for all of us in Connecticut!

I need to break away from the Philly trip and PD at Weir Farm to return to my Fairfield University work, but I am recharged by the vision and focus of educators like Rich Novack. He returns this morning to his own classrooms as I settle back to campus life.

This is the way good work gets done...reading the word and the world one day at a time. Congratulations to Weir Farm, Rich, the teachers, the students, and Karen Romano Young for a wonderful collaboration!

Day 3 of @WeirFarmNPS and @CWPFairfield Collaboration - Bring On The Students & Writers

As Park Ranger Kristin Lessard, teacher Rich Novack and I rethought how to do Reading Landscapes: Writing Nature in the 21st Century for year 3 - part of the National Park Service and National Writing Project collaboration - we wanted to create a track for high school writers. Why? We wanted to do professional development for writers, artists and teachers, but to also bring forward kids (so it could parallel the Young Adult Literacy Labs hosted during summer months at Fairfield University).

This morning, we are expecting 30 writers from Wilton High School as well as a group of writers from Fairfield Ludlow with our mission to be inclusive, youth-centered and perspective-rich (no pun on Mr. Novack's first name there).

In some ways, this is the most exciting day of the 3 thus far, after a teacher/artist/writer orientation and a phenomenal National Day on Writing that was open to the public.

I returned home yesterday afternoon and Glamis greeted me with absolute guilt, so I walked her in the rain. I'm not sure that was smart, as it was cold, too. She was thankful to move, however, as she was cooped inside all day (while I had the privilege of being at a National Historic Site.

The leaders have worked hard to make all of this possible and today the teachers in the workshop get to share their expertise, too. We also will be honored with writer/artist/author Karen Romano Young who wowed us during our summer institute and who will share her craft with students today.

Here's to the project. We are local (I'm loco), and this is National. That's the love and power of the National Writing Project work. God only knows what I'd be without them.

Celebrating #WriteOut & #NDOW @WeirFarmNP with @CWPFairfield & The Teachers I Love to Work With

I am sipping my coffee this morning celebrating everyone who is taking a moment today to participate in the act of writing. For several years, I've published the reasons I write, but today I thought it would be great to feature Jennifer von Wahlde, an extraordinary storyteller, thinker and educator at Darien High School who sent me a response for the 2019 'Why Do You Write' prompt. It's all to celebrate the National Day on Writing and the National Writing Project #WriteOut.

I love collecting responses, but I'm super happy to share Jen's. I love Jen!!!

Why write? 

Because I have to. Writing is the way I know what I think, how I feel, and what I need to/want to share with others, and what I should keep for myself. Writing is my favorite form of expression. Like dance or art, writing is an illustration of who I am. 

What is writing?

Writing is words on a page (or electronic medium). Writing a lengthy Facebook post is often harder than writing an essay. Writing is communication, it is art, it is breath and memory and feeling. 

Who writes?

Teachers write. Lesson plans, feedback on student writing, emails to parents and administrators, comments on shared documents with other faculty, and of course, our own creative work. Many teachers I work with write blogs, poetry, memoir, and fiction for both young adults and other adults. My students write. They write in their journals every day, they write in online discussion boards, they write emails upon emails upon emails. They write essays. In my class, they also write poems and personal narratives; short stories and flash fiction. They write comments on each other’s writing. 

Why should I write? 

For all of the same reasons that I already do write, and also: to communicate with the world. 

Where should I write? 

Anywhere that I am comfortable, and anywhere that I am not comfortable. Sometimes I write in order to survive the discomfort, to understand it. I love to write outside, listening to the crows cawing and the leaves (what is left of them) rustling in the trees. I love to write in museums, soaking in the colors and textures of the art on the walls, embraced by the silence and hush of the big spaces around me in which I am so small and yet so significant a participant. I write on buses and trains; I write in classrooms and offices. I write in a Moleskine journal and on my computer. 

Ubuntu,

Jen

This morning, I'm heading to Weir National Historic Park to share a beautiful space with writers in Connecticut. Tomorrow, we host young people on the property and expand their ways of writing. 

For me, writing is survival. Reading is air.

Best Part of Philly? The National Writing Project Connection, Of Course - So Great to See @Seecantrill Yesterday

Some of my earliest and best memories of National Writing Project work once I left the Louisville Writing Project to host my own site in Connecticut has been with Christina Cantrill. I especially remember early-days work with her, Elyse, and Troy Hicks when we ventured to the MIT maker spaces and, well, my brain was simply blown away.

Yesterday, hiking the incredible streets of Philly it occurred to me that one of my favorite NWP peeps, Christina, lived in the the city. I sent her a text and we met for coffee near my hotel. I loved every second of our talk, and I'm very much hoping to tap her puppet skills for a writing workshop with CT writers very soon.

Then there was the head explosion (Wait! Bob Jobin and Judy Buchanan live here, too! Why didn't anyone tell me? They so would have been invited to join us. I love them all - the heartbeats and pulse of the entire network).

I didn't expect Philly to call to me as it has, but I really love the city. Every corner, all the hustle and bustle, the personalities, culture and history made me want to move here as soon a I can. There's an incredible vibe to the location and I can't believe I haven't been here before now. It felt like a home away from home....a little London, a little NYC, but with the local feel of Syracuse.

Any city with frog statutes that are looking at skyscrapers is a natural draw to this guy. The streets are full of wonderful things to discover and personalities to jive with. It felt so alive and inviting.

I probably walked 10 miles yesterday between conference venues, meals, and conversations and I loved every step I took (it's nice to live a life that is carried by feet and not gasoline). I could get very, very used to such a lifestyle.

This morning, Drs. Betsy Bowen, Michelle Farrell and I will present on our work at Fairfield University and I hope we get a few attendees (I imagine an early a.m. session plus the draw of the City on a Saturday might deter many from coming).

Yesterday, I attended several sessions with Syracuse connections and my mind is simply blown away by the work they're doing and the memories I have of the the place where it all began.

And of course I look forward to the train ride back to CT only because I find it wonderful to have to sit still for 3 hours to write! It's like a private nirvana and I feel so lucky that I'm able to travel this way.

Happy Saturday, everyone. I am hoping all is well. 

Honored to be Recognized By The Coalition of Community Writing For @CWPFairfield's Ubuntu Academy @FairfieldU

Last night, I had the pleasure of representing CWP-Fairfield on behalf of Fairfield University and the incredible educators, William King and Jessica Baldizon, who have helped carry Ubuntu Academy forward for the past six years. The work, as well as Fairfield University's refugee mentoring program and several service-learning courses were named with an outstanding college-community partnership award. A collaborative project of 23 years with several Universities to promote the writing of girls and women received the top prize.

It's all good - CWP-Fairfield's Ubuntu Academy, was recognized on the national stage amongst rhet/comp scholars and journalist scholars, so that is a tremendous thing to be proud of. I am awaiting the words that were read about CWP-Fairfield on the stage, because the feedback on our work from the review community was stellar. Actually, I would even call it phenomenal and I stood in the crowd with much happiness as the reviewers comments were read.

I was also lucky to have Dr. Betsy Bowen from the English Department with me in her role as Faculty Chair of Service Learning. She's been a tremendous champion for me at Fairfield University and a wonderful supporter of the CWP work. On Saturday, she and I, along with Dr. Michelle Farrell of the Spanish Department, will be giving a paper on accompaniment, writing, community service and the Jesuit tradition. It will be our first time presenting together on our individual, yet collaborative work.

They took several pictures of the two of us with the award but 50% of them were with my eyes closed and the other 50% of them were with her eyes closed. This is the only one that has our eyes open, but the working of the award is blurred out. That is Crandall luck right there.

This is my first time spending extensive time in Philly and I enjoyed walking around the city and getting the big-city feel. I guess I didn't anticipate that so much of it would have the NYC vibe, but it definitely is a location that doesn't quiet down for long.

This morning, I'm going to meet NWP people who live in the area for breakfast, and then I will move into a day of conference sessions.

The recognition, of course, belongs to the beautiful young people who participate in our summer programs, the incredible teachers who give their life energy to their success, and to everyone and all who helps us fund summer literacy programs for immigrant- and refugee-background youth. This is true for all the young people served by CWP-Fairfield each summer, too.

I am thankful for this conference and for the invitation to present and attend. We believe in writing and definitely the power of putting pens in the hands of young writers.

I am, because we are. #Ubuntu. I feel blessed.

Wishing the Best to @carynsullivan and @prettywellness and Her Book Debut @FairfieldUBooks

Drats. I'm on a train heading to Philly and, as a result, need to miss Caryn Sullivan's book debut tonight: Happiness Through Hardship: A Guide for Cancer Patients, Their Caregivers and Friends During an Initial Cancer Diagnosis. Caryn will be reading from her work, doing autographs of the new book and sharing her at the Fairfield University Bookstore in Fairfield, Connecticut.

I am so honored to know her and love her with all my might. Why? Well, I've been a huge fan of hers ever since she enrolled in our English Education program. She came to us from a business/marketing field where she did tremendous work for ESPN. I knew from the second I first saw her present to others that she was a motivator, achiever, and tremendous personality...so much so that I had her as an opening speaker during our Digital Ubuntu: Writing Our Lives conference in 2015, part of our John Legend and NWP LRNG work.

Fast forward, new challenges arrived, and Caryn needed to slow the pace of her Masters degree. Devoted and always together, however, she took some time off and then quickly returned to finish  and, lo and behold, she took part-time work with the Connecticut Writing Project where she helped edit Power of Words, arranged Young Adult Literacy Labs, and kept teacher professional development always on the radar. Some of my favorite days at Fairfield University have been those when Caryn looked at me and I looked at her and we'd both say, "Power walk?" and headed outdoors to do loops around campus. We are both tremendous fans of the walk-n-talk and on numerous occasions we discussed the concept for writing this book. I am so proud that tonight's guests in Fairfield County have an opportunity to share in Caryn's wisdom like I have.

Last year, Caryn moved on from CWP-Fairfield to focus are her public speaking, Pretty Wellness, and her inspirational work as a mover, shaker, survivor and (well) Mombie-Zombie Mom. She's a champion of healthy eating, a sorceress of positive energy, and an all around tremendous human being. I HATE HATE HATE that I can't be with her and her family at tonight's reading. I can, however, watch videos of Caryn's work on the train.

I am beyond proud of her accomplishment and miss seeing her on a regular basis. Caryn Sullivan is the best, VIP in my world, and a motivator who is always in the back of my mind encouraging me to be a better man.

Here's to Caryn and the publication of her book!

Resorting to Winter Meals, But Refusing to Ramp Up the Heat just Yet. Soups and Blankets It Shall Be

I didn't say it was a good soup. I microwaved it - a Vietnamese dish that I used to love, but I think the company changed its marketing so it was very warm, but not very tasty.

And thus comes the PB & J season for Crandall. Good nights will be Triscuits and cheese. I get home and if I haven't been crock-potting all day, I'm typically disappointed with my evening options.

Summer grills save me. I can cook anything outdoors, and the warm temperatures make it that much easier. The colder months are not as kind to me, especially with the long hours at the University and the lack of sunlight when I'm off. I should pat myself on the back, however, because I talked myself out of grabbing something out of the house to eat. Trust me, I was tempted.

And today is Wednesday, the day that begins at 7 a.m. and usually ends about 9:15 p.m. when I drive myself home. I have to catch Amtrak on Thursday, too, so this morning seems extra-taxing. I never seem to rev myself up to truly enjoy the long days of summer, and when the crisp temperatures of fall quickly arrive I'm put in defense mode: Wait? How did that happen so quickly? I was just mowing my lawn! Can't I still get vegetables from the garden and Farmer's Market?

Nope. Life in the northeastern United States is upon us. I wake up instantly wanting to go back to bed. Of course, Glamis the wonder dog is beside me anxious to go for a walk or have a ball tossed her way to play.

I just want soup and bread. I want a blanket and a pillow. I want to hibernate until the spring thaw (and we haven't even had a frost yet).

Okay. It's time for a body and mind transition. Attitude over reality. 

The Laptop Chronicle: Memories of What I See On A Daily Basis (This Crandall Guy, People. Please. Phew!)

I thought I lost my glasses, but they turned out to be on the top of my head. This is the reality of late 40s, because I can't see the computer screen unless I have my prescription lenses on. I used to tape the camera on my laptop, but taking it on and off again resulted in the fact that I simply decided, "If they are going to record and destroy my identity, such is the life. Individuals rarely matter as much as the ideas that fluctuate and meander through our bodies. We are water. The brain is simply to move ideas from one location to another."

This was exactly what my computer screen saw yesterday from 7 a.m. until 10 p.m. as I graded, applied, created, reflected, rearranged, composed, answered and questioned. I did take breaks to walk the dog, run, mow the lawn and shop, but otherwise this noggin was full-force in the laptop world. I can only imagine the things my laptop would say if it could deconstruct and analyze what it witnesses on a daily basis.

I have no idea why we are given Columbus Day off, but I will take any holiday that is given to me so that I can catch up, work, and use the free time allotted. I was happy to see that local schools were in session (even though the University had it off), as I've never quite understood the holiday (this might because of my undergraduate education and, well, the realities that have been well documented). With that said, I'm still thankful for space to get work done.

We're full-speed ahead this week with a conference and the 2nd part to the Weir Farm National Historic Site collaboration. There's a lot of awesome occurring and I needed Monday (yesterday) to get on top of some of it. My elderly neighbor asked if I had the day off (I brought her banana bread I made from spotted bananas) and I told her, "In the academic universe, there is never a true day off."

That is true. I did, however, download two new books to listen to in The Hulk. Looks like I will be driving a little more until they are completed.

I should also say that running from zombies causes the use of sprinting muscles that haven't been used in a very, very long time. My thighs are extremely sore. It's a good feeling, and I'm glad they didn't catch me, but I much prefer the slow pace this fat body has grown accustomed to.

The Colors of an Autumn Night Before a National Holiday and a Monday Off.

I made my first-ever banana bread from rotten bananas (and it was really easy to make). After a day of cleaning, planning, and grading, I grilled chicken, made a salad, made some bread and headed to the beach to meet Dominik, Kaitlin's friend, and to welcome Leo and Bev back home from a weekend in New Hampshire. I couldn't help but notice that the bourbon, the wines, and the the Cosmopolitans all matched Kaitlyn's sweater. I think this was a good sign for the winter months still to come.

There is a a tremendous need, however, to get on top of grading and laundry before this week kicks off.

I have my to-do list for the day and I'm looking forward to tackling it, having run the washer and dryer until almost midnight last night.

Okay, Monday. I know we have it off, but I'm taking advantage of you to catch up on the domestic front. Happy work week, everyone. The extra day will do all of us well.

Oh, snap. And I just realized I have two more deadlines this week. Tap-dancing and spinning plates as fast as I can!

From the Natural World To the Horrific. My Saturday Was Better Than Yours. Loving the Life I Live

I finished my Saturday with a 5K Zombie run in Milford where, as a Zombie I was chased by Zombies, which isn't necessarily fun when the temperatures jump up to 70 at 4 in the afternoon, and because of a cough, you haven't run for a week. Still, I'm glad I did it, and I'm thankful to Targets for the cheap make-up and to Pam for making me look like Alice Cooper for the 3 miles. The crowd was light, but it was an inaugural run and I think the funkiest, happiest of people came out to run it.

In the morning, Rich Novack kicked off the 1st day of the two-week #WriteOut event, as we move towards the National Day on Writing with teachers and students at Weir Farm National Historic Site. I've only hiked the trails during the summer months and I truly appreciated the morning drive to Wilton, Connecticut with the leaves just beginning to change their hues. Rather than the warm air of the Zombie-run afternoon, the morning air was crisp, cool, and delicious. It made all the sites of the location that much better.

I was thinking much about apocalypse and end-of-the world shenanigans because of the evening sprint, and I started to think about the horrific reality of an unnatural world when human stewardship finally catches up to us (that is, the lack of stewardship). I've often told people I'm a recovering environmentalist, because the best thing that can happen to the planet is to rid our species from it. But then I started thinking, while hiking, what if we came to a place where humans were zombie-esque and needed to feed off one another. Not sure I want to see a scenario like that.

I'd much rather live in a world of conversations, fresh air, beautiful change of season, fresh water, good vegetables and fruits, and a total appreciation for life as we have it. I like finding the intricacies that exist under a rock or underneath shedding bark, and I'm thrilled to see ecosystems in action (it's why I'm slowly turning my backyard into a dragonfly, hummingbird, butterfly emporium). Reading and learning of the heavy-languaged scholars who position their 'reading of the earth' in text the vast majority of people will never understand makes me feel like I've entered the land of absolute hypocrisy. Ah, academics who need to make careers for themselves. They sure like to mark their territories.

Give me kids, books, and trails, and binoculars and strolls. That's all I need to commune with the outdoors - If I'm to be a critical ecological composer and learner, I need to quickly name that blogs such as this, journals, and even books are HUGE distractions. Want a love for the outdoors? Simply go out and enjoy it. Want future generations to love it? Then you know what to do. Take action and put back everything you get from the world.

It's that simple.

I Don't See The Resemblance, but I Was Told This is a Bryan Ornament For This Year's Holiday Trees

I suppose when I was in my 20s and had shaggy hair with no grays, I sort of look like the Kohl's Christmas ornament of an unshaven man in a flannel (back when people used to call me Shaggy." I never had dark eyebrows, though, and my beard comes in all white, but I guess I can concur that this might be a Bryan, post college, ornament from the tree.

I'm just shocked that the holiday displays are already up in local stores. I'm not there yet. I'm preparing for today's Weir Farm National Historic Site's collaboration with CWP-Fairfield and kicking off the orientation this morning with Reading Landscapes: Writing Nature in the 21st Century. This, I'm proud to say, will be followed with a Run for Your Life Zombie 5K at Walnut Beach this afternoon. I guess I'm excited to be chased by zombies as I run along the shoreline of Milford. I have to admit, I can't promise that I won't punch a zombie that comes after me when I run. I like to go solo, and am unsure about monsters getting in my way. I'm unsure how I will behave.

On a good news front, I just realized we have Fall Break Monday and Tuesday which frees up some of my life for planning, writing, and getting projects out of the way. I'm heading towards conference season and it as robust as ever. I get a little excited, but nerve-wrecked, that my teaching colleagues and I have so many presentations to work on. We'll get there - we always do - but I'm still under the pile of boulders that these days are coming.

I accomplished much in the office on Friday, as there wasn't any action in my hallway and the quiet allowed for me to concentrate. I will say that the buildings new ventilation system seems to be pouring all the hot air into my office. The hallway is cold, but when my door is open the heat cranks out. Now I understand why others have said, "Crandall, we need you to open your door to warm the rest of us up." That seems to me an engineering mistake if you ask me.

I didn't buy the lumberjack hippie and don't think he'll be going on any tree soon (even if I am a proud owner of a 30% Kohls coupon. And I am somewhat sad that those days of insulated shirts, overalls and counterculture attire are of the past. I'm ready for polyester already and velcro shoes. I am feeling old.

Ah, but today I get to commune with the outdoors in Wilton, followed by the sandiness of zombie running. I am looking forward to all that will come. 

Tomorrow Begins Day One of a 3-Part Environmental Workshop at Weir Farm. Excited to Tap My Louisville KIESD Masters in Science

The office frog is becoming iconic for my posts, as I realized he became the backdrop as graduate students and I began to pile up Bill McKibben's American Earth: Environmental Writing Since Thoreau. I did a Masters of Science through the Kentucky Institute for Education and Sustainable Development in 1998, a thesis that became my first official academic publication (although I had poems and partial insights in more scholarly work my mentor professors wrote).

For many years in KY, my students and I worked on Beargrass Creek and when I had 9th and 10th graders I often did an environmental writing unit. Fast forward to 2017 when CWP-Fairfield received its first Weir Farm National Park Service/National Writing Project collaboration grant. It was then I met ranger Kristin Lessard and, without a beat, contacted teacher Rich Novack to see if he was interested in leading the way.

Sh'Zaam. The seed quickly bloomed.

This year, we are maintaining a 3-day workshop for teachers, and opening the last day  to bring their students to the National Historic Site. We are also doing it in collaboration with the National Day on Writing (#NDOW, October 20th) and the NWP two-week #WriteOut for place-based creations.

Rich Novack leads the attendees with words and Lessard's staff does a phenomenal job teaching about John Weir, the property, the impressionist painting, and the history.

At Fairfield University, Colin Hosten, the Writing Center, and the core-writing team will lead a day of nature writing across campus (October 18th).

The student day will be hosted on the 21st. We have been interested to include youth in our work, as we've found their insight, intelligence, action and drive to be extremely useful (we can thank the Young Adult Literacy Labs for this)(and I'd love to see an entire week as a lab next summer).

I already tweeted out the image for today's post, but I wanted to take a moment to expand my thinking in this Chrysalis year. Frog was central to my KIESD days and if it wasn't for my work at the Beargrass Creek Nature Preserve (and with Al Dittmer, Barbie Bruker-Corwin and David Wicks), I wouldn't be the thinker that I am today.

Very much looking forward to year 3 of this work!

Introducing R2D2, The Coffee Maker, To Mount Pleasant This Morning. A Man's Gotta Do What He Must Do

Wednesday morning was that kind of morning. I didn't sleep well with my mind on CNY, so when my eyes opened at 6 a.m. I instantly thought about a hot cup of coffee (which hasn't been hot in a couple of months). As I was trying to clean the pot, put plates in the dishwasher and wipe sleep from my eye, I slammed the dishwasher's door shut, and it crashed into the pot I was holding in my hand.

Suffice it to say that I needed to get the broom to clean up the mess, and that my grumpiness had to wait.

I looked down and saw a Kohl's pull-off advertisement, and discovered a 30% off, so waited until 8 a.m. to drive to replace Mr. Coffee 1 with Mr. Coffee 2. Of course the coupon wasn't valid until today, but cranky without my coffee I asked, "Can I speak to a manager? I am in need of today's coffee and although I can return tomorrow to get the discount, I'd rather have it today."

There was no battle. I got the discount.

I returned home and all was well in the universe.

I've been drinking coffee since my junior year of high school and I know full-well the headache that comes when people trick me with decaffeinated coffee. I haven't had but a few sips this morning, but I'm hoping this model, R2D2, will do me right.

Amazing how tricky life can be without coffee in the morning. I've made my way back to survival land - another day of meetings - and I can't wait to get my morning buzz to face the world.

This one has a water filtration system that needs to be changed every month and I'm thinking, "Huh? I just want my coffee."

I'm drinking said coffee. All will be okay.

Then There Is The Day I Squeak With Every Step I Take Because, Well, I Have Rubber Chickens in My Bag

I am going to quote my colleague, Dr. Erica Hartwell, on this. "Of course Crandall's walking across campus with a rubber chicken in his bag."

Why did she say this?

Well, I had a rubber chicken in my bag and I was going to deliver it to my other colleague, Dr. Kris Sealy, in honor of her Wall Award talk. Every step I took made my carrier bag bang against my leg, which emitted a chicken squawk. At one point last year, my friend Kaitlyn and I were trying to orchestra a rubber chicken symphony which resulted in the purchase of way too many chickens. I forgot about these until my older sister's visit prompted me to ask myself, "What don't I need in my house?" A bag of rubber chickens that honk was probably a good choice to remove.

I couldn't get rid of them, though. I figured storage in my office would prove fruitful at some point, because one never quite knows when a chorus of singing chickens will come in handy.

When I arrived across campus, however, honk step-step, honk step-step, honk step-step, I came to locked doors at the Oak Room. I was a month too soon to deliver a rubber chicken to Dr. Sealy. So, I returned to my office, honk step-step, honk step-step, honk step-step. I didn't mind the turning heads because, as Dr. Hartwell remarked, "Of course Crandall's walking across campus with a rubber chicken in his bag."

These are the moments when I really miss the Brown School community who would never question such an action.

In the meantime, I leave you with Pachelbel's Chicken Sonata. I will continue to aim for this brand of talent and hope, one day, I can give such a musician a run for his or her money (and yes, I know I've written about such music in the past)

And Then There Is That Moment, @kwamealexander, We Do The Math. Really? 2012? Then a Writing Conference, 2013? Hmmm. Time

The Great Whatever. A way of life. A philosophy to guide the soul. Another explanation for throwing "Yes" into the universe and allowing stories to be written exactly as they are.

On Sunday I receive a spur-of-the-moment invitation from the Rooster via Facebook and within seconds I learned a role model, an inspiration, and a friend would be reading in Connecticut. I tried to get tickets, but of course it was sold out. I texted, "Can't. It's booked" He texts back, "Yes, you can." Um, "Yes, I can."

And I do. He continues, "Tell them you're my brother." I'm just a fan, a pollywog in the pond beyond the Rooster's barn. An academic, teacher-nerd, and believer of all that young people have to offer.

It's a story of crossing over. 

Teacher loves writing. Teacher loves kids. Teacher meets a man in CNY because a hurricane, Sandy, has both us of trapped at the same conference and a teacher, Rhiannon, says, "I met this guy and he is trapped in Syracuse like you. Do you think you can drive him to my high school tomorrow? He said he'd do a workshop with my kids."

Sure. Who is he? "You are kindred spirits," she says. "Trust me on this one." 

I pick him up and he wows her students. Fascinates me. Sets me up, but I coached volleyball for several years and I know when I'm being set up at the net. When he calls on me, tests me out, I'm ready to respond. 

I realize he's magic. He wants a new winter coat so I take him to a mall and later he says, "I can't believe you took me to Burlington." 

That's fancy shopping for this amphibian. I'm cheap in the wallet. It works for me. I didn't know.

The rest is history. He comes to my first Writing Our Lives conference, a youth-centered workshop I brought with me through my days of collaborating with Dr. Marcelle Haddix at Syracuse University. He wows the Connecticut crowd. 

Time moves forward and I get the ARC for The Crossover. With a National Writing Project grant, I work with teachers at Hill Central in New Haven, Connecticut, and ask Kwame Alexander to return to Connecticut to feature Acoustic Rooster and His Barnyard Band. I also arrive with the first 100 copies of The Crossover I can find. He's there for the Rooster, but the middle school kids inundate him with questions about his basketball book. Success.

Long story short - we helped turned an urban middle school around and he graciously agrees to do a National Writing Project radio show to tell the story, which later gets turned into a publication in Study and Scrutiny.

Soon after, he wins a Newbery (which I knew he would) and CWP-Fairfield receives an LRNG Innovation Award through NWP, John Legend Show Me Campaign, and the MacArthur Foundation. 

In academic years, I was just a pollywog. I suppose he was a hatchling already soaring with the Eagles. Rooster. Ribbit Ribbit. On the trajectory of life - The Great Whatever - we move forward, solo, but realize it is a we-initiative. We are stronger when we operate in collaboration of others. 

I didn't know Kwame Alexander was touring the United States, but was delighted to hear from him (as was an audience full of fans in CT, including a middle school teacher who had his students create sneaker art as a result of his writing)(see photo above) 

And I continue to be in awe of him as a human, a writer, a motivational speaker, a mentor, a teacher and friend. This is Tuesday morning post. I continue to be inspired and to believe in The Superpower of Hope, which I was thrilled to give him as a gift. 

Kwame has a right to hate the top photo (but there's a history of such selfies throughout the year). I love making ridiculous selfies (that's my dork-infested ammo). Yet, I have a right to be thankful this morning for his books, his advice, his generosity, and everything still to come. 

Thank you, Kwame Alexander. I'm shaking my head just thinking back to 2013. Shoot, to 2012 when I first met you. Were we young? Naive? Strategic? Hmmm.

The stories transcend the stories that beget stories still to be written. 

You often say, "I appreciate you, man." But that is mutual.

I truly appreciate you, too, man. So do the boys. So do my students. So do the teachers in schools where I'm fortunate to promote your writing. 

You have always been meant to be. I look forward to your brilliance to come.

Okay, Monday. Yesterday I Had One of Those Sundays, So Be Good To Me. I Need to Ease My Way Back To Work

Because this summer, I needed to be out of my office, much of my office was stored at home. Most of it didn't make it out of the garage, but I did have books everywhere inside. When Cynde came down from the shower this morning, I was channeling her spatial energy and started moving things in anticipation she'd help (which she did).

She helped by saying, "You have inherited mom and Grannie Annie's pack-rat tendencies."

Gasp. She's right. I don't like to get rid of things and ever counter has knick-knacks on them. So, I started rearranging and getting rid of items I no longer needed. Cynde and Nikki left at 11, but I kept purging until about 4, when I decided Glamis needed a long walk and I should weed-whack the yard and clean the grill from summer use.

This got me to about 7 p.m. when I decided I really, really needed to grade so I did that until I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore.

I'm not good about chiseling time to take care of the house, but I can say that books are on shelves, organized and even packed for Pequot's book festival and for my office (because I need some there).

And Glamis is zonked out. The weekend of having 24/7 attention wore her out. It was great that she had other licking posts than just me and I'm sure both Nikki and Cynde are curing the dog hair on their clothing (yes, they have dogs, but Glamis's shedding is extra special).

I've got a morning to accomplish many tasks, and afternoon of meetings, and then a gathering with an ol' friend (if I can make it happen).

I have to admit, though, that it is hard to depart with items, because I'm the type that attaches meaning to everything. I know exactly where everything came from and why I have it. I'm that way with running shoes, too, which is my next big task. There's no reason to have 25 pairs of sneakers that I know longer wear, no matter how many memories they've brought me for 5Ks, races, and times in my life. They will soon be departing, too.

My house needn't be a museum of Crandall's crazy (which is exactly what it is and will likely continue to be).

Happy work-week everyone,

Happy To Have My Sister and Niece Here For the October Weekend. The Temperatures Dropped, but the Warmth Was With Us

What won't be displayed in this post are impersonations of the women dancing at the bar to What Up, Funk? at the Windmill in Stratford, Connecticut. That will have to be saved for Crandall's year-end montage. What can be said now is that we had a great day of Donut Crazy, walking at the beach, potato curls at the pumpkin festival, the flea market in New Haven, margaritas at the beach, then an evening of post 50-year olds with boob jobs pretending they're in their 20s again. That was the highlight of the day, indeed.

We picked up Glamis for him about 10 p.m. and then watched YouTube for a while until everyone was ready for sleep. Funny to think that Nikki is ready for bed before I am and she's only 23.

Phew! That time flew by quickly.

I can say, as a matter of fact, that I'm not able to sustain the amount of food we consumed today. Pam

made a delicious lunch for us all, and we had an equally delicious meal at the Windmill. Without getting a run in, I was feeling extra lethargic, but well-fed for the day. Amazing the food consumption that is available when one wants it.

Pam and Shirley take the day away, however, with their post-bar impersonations of the women on the dance floor. It is a performance worthy of Saturday Nigh Live (and that I'm saving for exactly the right moment). It was classic and something we will all laugh about for years and years and years.

Here's to the cool nights and wonderful sleeping temperatures of October. I always set a goal that the heat won't go on until November. I am, however, already tempted to warm things up a big. For now, it has to be the heavy blankets and tight roll-ups in under them.

So wonderful to have family with me for the weekend. 

My Little Red-Tail Hawk Friend, Calling It An End To the Work-Week. I Hear You, Buddy. Time To Chill!

At the end of the day of many meetings, I was leaving the campus library (gorgeous new innovation labs) when I saw a lump in the grass which I thought was a groundhog. When my colleague, Dr. Betsy Bowen, and I got closer, however, we realized it was a hawk. She asked, "Do you think he is alright?"

He allowed us to get very close. Soon, he looked at us with selfishness and I said, "I think he is holding something in his talon."

He was. It was a field mouse, and he was basically suffocating it under his claws. He didn't want us to steal it from him.

Betsy said, "Phew. I'm so glad he's alright," and I responded, "But what about the pour mouse."

Nature doing its ritual.

I'm very glad to see the weekend come toward us and I suppose his lil' mouse was like a Friday afternoon happy hour for him.

Cynde and Nikki took an alternative route to CT (not sure what mapping system they used), so I went to the Pumpkins on the Pier in Milford. They wouldn't allow the dogs, so we simply sat back and did some people watching. Such a wonderful event for a crisp, autumn weekend.

It will be so nice to have company this weekend and I look forward to what we might find to do. I'm also hoping we all might sleep in until at least 8 a.m. - we shall see. Wishing for the best!

Fantastic Day in the Apple Thanks to an @RHCBEducators Invite - Penguin Random House Fall/Spring Collection (so Honored To Be There)

Books Are My Life. Well, our lives. And Penguin Random House knows they are our Achilles heels. We were on trains at 6:30 a.m. heading into the city and by 1 p.m., we left the city looking upright book mobiles. Very exciting to have a mini-tour of their facilities and to hear editors debut the line of children, middle grades, and YA novels heading our way. The nerd-boy in me wanted to quickly grab them all because I knew a perfect audience for each.

Book stork or book dork? Why can't I be both.

I've already devoured Thurgood by Jonah Winter and the always distinguished artwork of Bryan Collier. Stormy by Guojing, a beautifully illustrated story of patience, kindness and dog-love, is a must-have for every classroom. Paper Son by Julie Leung and illustrated by Chris Sasaki is perfect for anyone who wants to know the historical story behind the illustrator of Bambi (needs to be in every history classroom) and I Wonder by K.A. Holt and illustrated by Kenard Pak is the perfect book for the inquisitive-minded child. Equally as powerful and inspirational is The Oldest Student: How Mary Walker Learned to Read by Rita Lorraine Hubbard and illustrated by Oga Mora, the story of a woman who learned to read at age 116. It is a fantastic book!

For older readers (I haven't gotten to them yet), I'm excited about White Bird by R. J. Palacio (author of Wonder) and her first graphic novel, two books by Nic Stone, Clean Getaway and Jackpot, Pet by Akwaeke Emezi (I gave away the first copy I bought and got myself a second one, and jumping into Morgan Parker's Who Put This Song On? and Erin Stewart's Scars Like Wings (both coming at YA readers with original stories and new voice - I can't wait). There's a new David Levithan collection, 19 Love Songs and a new writer writing about writing book, Hope in the Mail by Wendell Van Draanan (which I might use for the teacher institute). I'm also intrigued by What I Carry by Jennifer Longo, but already know it's likely to be a heavy read. I need to be ready for it.

I am very thankful to any and all who put the day together and am especially grateful to Rebecca Stead, author of The List of Things That Will Not Change, for her author talk and the precious text she brought into the world to share.

And a special shout-out to the bartender who made me a Japanese Old Fashion while we ate sushi near Grand Central Station. The meal and the drink were outstanding.

Now, for the I-95 traffic that kept all of us lodged in on Wednesday night for two hours, almost making me miss the alarm for the 6:30 a.m. train to Manhattan on Thursday, all I can say is boo. Do they really need to shut down to one late for 20 feet of paving work? That was insane!

Ah, but it's Friday. The meetings begin early and I'm anticipating a sister and niece arrival very very late tonight.
Here's to good sleep, good rest, good books, and good health (with a Japanese Old Fashion for everyone).

Thursday was a fantastic day and I'm hoping I'll be able to continue the energy into the weekend. This was a fantastic way to put the ellipses on this year's Saugatuck StoryFest work. Now, it's time to dream even more.