Okay, December, Bring On the Snow (Well, Until Tuesday). Our Charlie Brown Tree Is Ready

After a late Friday night, plans for a productive Saturday sort of got side-tracked due to impeding projects for the Masters student and, well, a pretty significant storm likely to make Sunday travel pretty challenging. So, as we gathered together in the a.m. to lay out a plan of action, Chitunga said, "I think I need to head back tonight. I still want to shop and help decorate the tree, but I need to hit the road."

Ah, Syracuse. That is the way you are.

It's sort of a ritual to see him hanging the ornaments on the hand-me-down-Monroe-Pam tree we use. I never put up trees before (real or fake), but since Mt. Pleasant, I kind of enjoy the ritual. It looks pretty frumpy and pathetic here, but once everything is up and the lights are on, it's actually a wonderful tree that I love staring at while working on my laptop at night.

His frustration with graduate school is a 'been there, done that' phenomenon that is hard to coach. He's ready for it to end, but has one more semester. He hasn't tasted the fruits of the hard work, so he's wondering, "Why am I doing all this? What is is for?" I remember thinking that over and over again with all my degrees, but one can't see what it is for until they are on the other side of the sacrifice. As I told him before he left, "You'll be 24 years old with a Masters degree. That is something to be very proud of and it will help you in your career. You'll see."

Writing papers, taking tests and doing projects doesn't translate to the work he'll be doing once it is all over. I told him, "K-18 schooling is 19 years. A career is often twice as long (and you can't get out of that...be thankful you invested in yourself young)."

With a quiet house, I believe I will edit a commentary invitation I've been working on for a few months, and finish the LRA slides for our presentation in Tampa. Of course, I also need to return the lights I bought to replace the lights that went out over the winter (because I accidentally bought blinking ones. I hate those). I also have to restock the house for the dog-sitters before I leave again (hoping this storm blows right through).

And let me say something about leftovers. There are none. I sent guests with their own containers, and Chitunga does his best Spencer Ripley impersonations and continually finds room for more plates (and he packed the last of it for his return to school). When I went to get dinner last night, there was only a few pieces of dark turkey meat and a lump of potatoes. Fine dining, I tell you.

And poor Glamis. I think she hates his departure as much as I do. She looks for him in the bay window and keeps sniffing at his door. I love the way the two of them bond when he's able to be in Stratford. We'll be up in Syracuse soon enough.