Shine on

Well, the starcrossed chapter got delivered today. I'm now officially a free woman, if only for a week or so before I move on to tackle my next chapter.

After delivering the finished chapter to my wonderful advisor at his home and visiting a little while with him and his gorgeous dog, I trekked up the highway to visit my small college for the afternoon. I met with students and saw Dr. S, who has beautifully decorated our shared apartment in the woods.

The place is so homey and so nicely appointed that I'm sure to enjoy spending time there when the new semester begins in a month or so. I can't believe the summer is rushing by so fast!

While I was turning in my first finished chapter, my husband was traveling to Virginia to buy himself the coolest "tornado red" motorcycle. It looks like a jet!

And our decrepit, horrid garage was being torn down by a wrecking crew that also almost did away with my only prized heirloom tomato, which had already sprouted two little round green fruits. The tomatoes didn't survive, but I rescued and relocated the plant and hope it will live. A new garage, meanwhile, will soon be raised where the old one withstood almost 80 years of life.

So today marked a big day for both of us. For me, turning in my chapter was a clear validation that I'm right on schedule to finish my dissertation, a confirmation that I have the discipline to do what I must and do it well, and a tangible reminder that the monster is one fourth on its way to being assembled. Nothing else has given me as much certainty that the dissertation will be done as turning in this chapter today.

The heftiness of 62 pages of written text also felt very good in my hands. And it helped to hear my students ooh and aah when I noted that while they had written six or seven pages for their final paper this summer, I still had to produce three more like this one. They were suitably impressed.

For my husband, it's his first new (well, one-year old) motorcycle in years and one that can complement his crotchety 10-year-old Triumph. My husband, who is an expert at self-denial, is a kid in a toy store with his motorcycles. It's a pleasure to see him beam like that. Tonight, he's happily reading the user manual for the new bike.

Earlier this evening, as I walked the dogs in the twilight while I waited for my husband to arrive with his new acquisition, I saw a luciérnaga atop a large green leaf, flashing its neon-green Luciferin, like a tiny flashlight signaling joy to the encroaching darkness. I looked closer and the light dimmed a little, but I could still see that tiny flash of light even as the day ceded its place completely to the night.

I smiled and moved on, satisfied and grateful for any day when even the tiniest light shines on.