And Just Like That I've Returned To the Syracuse Homefront (Which Makes Glamis and Butchie Happy)

Seems like I've posted this photo once before, except for the fact that I took it when I go to my parents' house yesterday afternoon. Dad is in my spot, and Glamis is on top of Dad (he needed to relax in the afternoon to get ready for his Chubby's Corn Hole Tournament).

Chubby's. Yup. Dinner, too. But good company and catching up, before I started Mimi Sue on Frankie and Grace - pretty excited that the Apple TV works on my mother's system.

In the meantime, I finished a book on the way hear (audio) and started another (audio) and both have been incredible. I need to drive some more to finish.

Today, hump day, is the one sunny day predicted for the week and my primary goal is to run, to read, and to vacuum the pool. Actually, my goal is to be at the wish and command of the parental units in the short time I'm here.

The pool felt great yesterday when I jumped in after a run.

Splash. Sweat. Papi Butch & Steak. Those are the goals for the day.

Decided to Jump Right Past the Mid-Life Crisis and Settle Into Senior Citizen Early Week Specials (Dressed the Part, Too)

Yesterday was Lois's birthday and it is hard to believe it's been six years. We chose to celebrate by going to a fancy restaurant that has Monday specials. We knew she'd want steak, but I had a roast beef sandwich for lunch, so opted for fish. I was wearing jeans and it was too hot, so I threw on a bathing suit I left at Pam's. It didn't quite match, but when we saw the crowd of people taking advantage of the Monday night special, $17 meals is a perfect set-up for retirees, in which most of the men were dressed exactly as I was...mixed patterns that didn't quite go together.

It was a good meal and we tipped glasses to Lois, then took Glamis and Jake for a walk in the heat (today's storms are supposed to chase that away).

I bought Pam pomegranate juice for Martinis, because that's what she always drinks. I asked her to make me one, but refused any olive. I've never had a Martini, and was a little alarmed at the foo-foo glass. The flavor was great, but the sugar and sweetness was a bit much.

Pam looked at my outfit and the martini and said, "Yup, we definitely lives a retiree Monday."

I came home to meet Bucky, my neighbor's Tibetan Terrier that is 9 weeks old. Munson, her past dog, passed earlier this year and it was sad. I'm glad to see her with a new love nugget in her life and it really is a precious creature. The markings are absolutely wonderful.

I'll be spending today, however, listening to books on tape downloaded from Audible as I venture to the original Homefront and spend a few days helping out wherever I'm needed.

The calendar is filling up fast and the load gets heavy starting next week. I don't think Glamis will be thrilled about another trip but I'm loving the forecast for Wednesday, which looks like the most promising day ahead.

Looking forward to seeing the family and being sure that Chitunga is settled into his last year (a Masters) at LeMoyne. With so many years under his belt up there, I'm more an annoyance than a help. He's independent and got this on his own, but still, I like to keep my eye on things.

I used to say that my favorite days of the year were coming and going from Kentucky. Now I am doing the same in Connecticut (which is a must faster drive). Driving is meditative and reflexive. I'm looking forward to the music, books and thinking of the day.

I Needed This Day To Rearrange for Fall. Cleaning Done. House Rearranged. Adjustments Made.

I did this before the chaos of summer began...rearranged the dining room into a living room, cleaned the kids' rooms and prepared for the summer crazy of young adult literacy labs and a teacher institute.

Knowing that I plan to head to Syracuse this week, I did another round of cleaning so I can return to the Fall semester with everything in order.

Phew. I wish I was better at the domestic side of things. When there's a crew in the house, I don't feel as bad about a messy household because I have others to blame. When it is just me and Glamis, I know it is just the two of us. It is all my fault.

I have one major meeting in the afternoon, and then tomorrow morning I'm free to do a Syracuse run. The laundry is folded, the dishes are put away and the books are back on all their shelves. My lawn is mowed and recycling is in gear to bring back to Big Y. Staying on top of the house order is no easy task.

I just wish the tomatoes were ready for picking. They're getting there, but far from ripe...Still budding and beginning their bulbous selves.

I have too many books. You can't see it here, but it is true. I only wish that my bookshelves could clean themselves. Alas, it is what it is and I did the best that I could.

This is a random post...not much eventful happened except the purge.

Finding The Happy Place, Summer Rituals and Locations To Find Oneself At Ease

From my earliest memories, until my college years, a piece of heaven was always Loch Lebanon, Lebanon Reservoir, where my grandparents spend their summer days outside of Hamilton, New York. They would close up their village home and move to their two-bedroom cabin where my grandmother could sing, "I see the dam cars and the dam cars sing me." We'd fish, swim, boat, walk to the candy store, play softball and pitch until we were exhausted.

It was nirvana. Grandma could grill up her sausage and grandpa could drink his Milwaukee's Best, hoping that Grandpa Ken and Grandma Vera would pay us a visit from Sheruburne, NY. It was a retreat from the everyday, just like my Aunt Rena and Uncle Russel's house on the St. Lawrence River. A fisherman's paradise for seeing ships coming in from the Atlantic and an aquatic life of serenity and calm.

I often channel such locations in my adult life and go their to help myself to sleep: days without an Internet, cable t.v. or 24/7 news cycles. All I needed was my fishing pole and a worm and I was content.

Chitunga has found such serenity in the Adirondacks, where he goes every weekend, and I can't blame him for loving his retreat. There are SkeeDoos and pontoons, pitch black nights, and lots of critters to listen to as one falls asleep.

I am thinking, too, of Casey and Dave's retreat on the St. Lawrence River and how quiet and calm the nights were there, even as my mother bumped into a wall in the pitch black night putting me into hysterics. Of course she walked into a wall when it was too dark to see. It cracked me up.

I'm an Aquarian and I need my water to feel centered and alive. I looked out at the Long Island Sound yesterday reconfiguring my soul and longing for a time that once was. Water is at the center of it all and so is peace, a natural order, and the ecosystems of frogs, fish, fireflies, dragonflies and birds.

My grandmother loved night most of all and would sing with the frogs, "I'm in the mood. I'm in the mood. Not tonight, Butch. Not tonight. Shut up, kids. Shut up, kids." and in the morning, when the sun glistened on the lake she would say, "The stars have returned to Loch Lebanon to wash their nightly worries. Let them bathe and shine for us to love."

I love that Chitunga has found such a location and I look forward to having him share it with me next weekend. I'm afraid, though, that I might get a little Papi Butch. I might fill up with tears and simply cry and the beauty of it all.

Going Into The Weekend Absorbing the Sunshine, Watching the Butterfly Bushes, and Soaking In a Taste of Summer

As I went out back to stretch before a run, I noticed that my plants were enduring a feeding frenzy with big and small butterflies going crazy for the butterfly bush. When I returned from my run, they were still there (or maybe a new cohort), but they were filling themselves up with nectar and joy. It was like they were sharks and I through them bait.

I decided to do the same for myself. I called it a half day Friday and spent the rest of the day at a pool in Milford soaking in the sun and sipping a Pink Pamther (which is a pamarita with cranberry juice) and eating steak. I almost felt like I was out back at my mom and dad's having a pool day. Nothing like playing in a pool until the skin is pruned and raisin-esque. It's hard to stay indoors when the weather is so beautiful outside and the humidity is as low as it is. You have to enjoy such days.

We're expected to have another one today and on Sunday.

I know I need a lawn day (and outdoors day) in the morning, plus I need to start listing what still needs to be accomplished. I am looking to the butterflies, however, to realize I need to take advantage of the weather while we have it.

I'm thinking back to the my naturalist days and working at Jefferson Memorial Forest when the boss ranger told me I had a crew of 20 coming for a butterfly garden demonstration. I said, "I know nothing about butterfly plants," and he said, "Oh, you will. You have 24 hours before you lead the workshop."

Needless to say I read books from the office and went to the library to brush up quick. It's always nice to see a garden in bloom with so much insect activity. It makes me feel like I'm doing my part. I know, too, that this is year 3 and much has leaped, so there will need to be an expansion and deliberate relocation of my butterfly and hummingbird plants next year. I have memories of a friend's garden in London and have always wanted to recreate such a relaxing garden at my own home. I'm getting there, one year at a time.

Two Views of a Thursday: 50% Domestic Stuff (Read Glamis Drama) and 50% on Work Stuff (Read Crandall Drama)

Don't tell anyone, but I am washing my hands with work for the day. I am telling myself that knowing that I have to complete two major projects today, but knowing I have very little left to give.

Yesterday morning started with a Glamis visit to the vet and I have to say that the mild sedative was helpful. At Companion Hospital she was loving, extra loving, and she wouldn't leave my lap because I was her licking post. She was calm, sure, but also extra affectionate. When Stephanie came in, too, she was loving and was simply, "Check my teeth and glands, beautiful. We got this."

I said, "We figured it out. A pill to calm her down."

Then they took her back to get her nails clipped. SILENCE OF THE LAMBS. HOWELS. TERROR. My dog is absolutely hysterical in a terrible way when anyone comes after her feet. All the other patrons of their vet practice were horrified by the sounds she was making. I simply said, "That's my dog. I'm used to it."

After, both Ken and Steph came out wiping sweat from their brow and saying, "She was so much better this time." Really? My dog is a whack-a-doodle when it comes to having anyone clip her nails.

Meanwhile, she was in chill zone when we returned and slept the rest of the day when I went to the office to work. I got a run in and it was hot. I knew storms were coming and by evening they arrived (although we missed the brunt of it).

The clouds were cool the way they came in, but I'm guessing we were at the southern parts of the massive cold front that pushed through Connecticut. I kept waiting for the lightening, thunder, hail and winds, but they stayed away. It looks, too, that there will be another day of high heat before it calms down and gets colder for the weekend (still beach weather).

I am going to try my best to 'chill out' this weekend and restructure my mindset around calm. I say this every summer, but I'm in a major need of a mental break. I rarely am at risk for burn out, but I'm definitely on the edge and I need to rethink my universe and what is next for me.

I will go to my grave thinking that actions speak louder than words, so I'm looking to think about the next act - one that is purposeful, mission-driven, sustainable and healthy, rather than exploitive, hypocritical and sad. I haven't figured out that solution yet, but it is stirring in my brain like the storm clouds. 

Six Weeks of @CWPFairfield Work and I'm Still a Champion for Hope: Love, Integrity, Kindness, and Good

We are now three days beyond the summer work - the 8 hour days, the buses, the teachers, the planning, the books, the writing, the supplies, the lunches, and the financing to make it all possible.  Yes, it is 6 weeks, but the rest of the year makes the 30 days possible: recruiting, grant-writing, presenting, advertising and hiring.

This morning, I came across a piece a few of the kids in Ubuntu Academy wrote for CWP - an acrostic to say thank you for their participation in the summer program. This is the literacy lab for English language learners, immigrant and refugee-background youth looking for every possibility they can to build their language skills and opportunities in the United States.

Having the belief that there will always be light at the end of the tunnel for our diverse community,

Opening our minds to the possibility that we can overcome daily challenges, 

Persevering through the pain and learning from our pasts so we can make a better future...

Everyone has a story and their own beliefs. How we choose to make our dreams turn into reality is what fully allows us to embody HOPE. 

I'm a strong believer that actions speak louder than words. My dissertation, my publications, my grant-writing and my programming, I hope, are testimony to my core belief systems. I'm not a pious man, but I've read the religious texts at the core of most world religions and continue to come back to the shared beliefs between them all. That is, and will always be, a respect for fellow human beings, no matter the boundaries, lines, and limitations that some build to stand in the way.

I stand for children and their hopes. I believe in their vision for their futures and how they want to work hard to make their families and their communities proud.

I stand for the teachers who read voraciously, work tirelessly, and view inevitably the destructive voices of so many who detest all they do.

It's a Thursday and I have a day of meetings, but this morning I'm fueled by the beauty of these kids and all they accomplished this summer....youth from over 15 nations who have overcome tremendous obstacles that most of us will never know. They are my hope. They are what I believe in.