One day away

The end of January, that is. And I can't wait! Last night, gale-force winds shook our two-story house again, like a great giant was trying to pry our windows from their frames. Who can sleep in that? The wind kept waking us up and I began to fear that it was going to tear out our roof.

Good multiple-hurricane veteran that I am, I hate wind. Nothing scares the bejeezus out of me more than wind.

The wind wasn't the only freaky thing last night. While the temperatures reached the upper 50s (at midnight it was 54 degrees!), this morning the thermometer registered a frigid 15 degrees with a windchill factor of minus 5. Brrr, indeed!

Still, that didn't keep me from walking about 2.25 miles with my Puerto Rican satos, who seem impervious to the unwelcoming wind. In her old age, Geni minds the snow on the ground a lot more. But neither of them seem to mind walking on sidewalks that must feel like they're frozen solid. I often worry about their paws stepping on those ice-cold surfaces. I don't even want to imagine what it feels like, but they want to walk their long walks, so it must not be too bad.

While January has very slowly molassed itself away, I've been working like the busiest bee on my Monster. Today I'm sending the third revised chapter to my advisor. That means three down and only one to go! I've already outlined that last chapter and have begun reading for it. And I've also confirmed a date for the defense in early June, which means this is for real. It's no longer a pipe dream, or a wish, or a maybe. It's actually scheduled and it's going to happen, si Dios quiere.

Even with January's freezing woes, I am warmed by the knowledge that I've kept myself on track. I had a fear of failing myself, of not coming through with my plans. I don't generally do that, but then again, I haven't written a Monster before. I didn't want to discover that I didn't have the discipline and the mettle to walk the walk. But I guess that was the wrong thing to fear at this stage of my life.

Still, I'm not celebrating anytime soon. There's still one more chapter, one last limb of the Monster that needs to be conceptualized, researched and written. Once that is done, then I'll break out the champagne (metaphorically, since I don't really like it) and throw confetti everywhere (also figuratively, since it involves a lot of cleaning afterward). I'll keep you posted.

Meanwhile, you bet I will celebrate that January is finally gone tomorrow.

De lunas al sol y pájaros carpinteros

Another week has gone by of this most interminable and frigid month of January, and I can't wait for it to end. At least February will be 2 days shorter and will inexorably move us closer to March, which precedes April.

Still, I have to say that only in a bone-chilling morning in January can I see the moon, looking like a sun rising against the blueish-pink of a dawning sky, hiding among the denuded trees of the forest behind my apartment in the woods.

January is also responsible for the fact that I have spotted four kinds of woodpeckers at my bird feeders in the apartment in the woods in my college on the hill.

This includes the Pileated woodpecker, below. The lens of my trusty little camera isn't good enough to capture the Pileated, which is almost as large as a guaragüao or an owl, and which was only about 10 or 15 few feet away, rummaging near the foot of a tree. But my husband did some magic with the photo and you can at least see a little of his blood-red crown and his stork-like beak.

On another one of these horridly cold January mornings this past week, I stepped outside to put some feed on the feeders, and I heard a very loud hammering. "Who could possibly be hammering at this hour and in this weather?!" I asked myself.

I then realized that the noise was coming from above my head, among the tops of the trees. That's when I spotted the Pileated, whom I'm going to have to name, especially after I saw his humongous shape try to eat out of my suet cage yesterday before I came back home to the city. The camera, alas, was packed away in the car so there is no pictorial evidence that this most marvelous of birds is now a regular customer of mine.

Along with the Pileated, I've spotted downy woodpeckers, a red-bellied woodpecker and even the strikingly beautiful red-headed woodpecker at my feeder. All that red sure compensates for the mind-numbing, all-encompassing whiteness of January.

Still, January's bitter cold didn't keep me from soldiering on yesterday and walking 3 miles along a country road as part of my training. I'm not sure I'll be able to make it, but the plan is that my husband will run half a marathon at my college on the hill and I'll walk the other half. I'm in training now until April and Saturdays are my long-walking days.

There was no red anywhere to be seen yesterday morning though, as I took to the road with my new running shoes and left the little town behind and then walked on the road that changes name as it cuts through snow-covered field after snow-covered field after snow-covered field. Just when my soldierly courage was beginning to fail me, I noticed the street marker of where I needed to turn back and I did so gratefully.

I'm looking forward to my next long walk this upcoming Saturday, especially because it will be February then, which means this 31-days-of-freezing January will have passed on, never to return again (well, until next year, that is).

Aniversarios

A year ago today, on a very cold Sunday, I made a rather momentous decision: I started this blog.

Now, it wasn't momentous for any significance other than the fact that I made the commitment to put my thoughts "out there" into cyberspace and to write regularly, if not daily, about issues or themes that interested me. My husband helped by giving the blog its great look, with the colors of the Puerto Rican flag, with my photo of trinitarias and with his own caricature of being a Boricua en la luna.

A year ago, I posted twice, once about my abuelo and abuela and how they taught us to celebrate Three Kings Day, and about being a Spik at Harvard. Those were stories I had been thinking about for a long time but I'd never found the way to articulate them. I was surprised to find that the blog provided an easygoing format where I could express myself without feeling the pressure to have my expressions be perfect or even smart.

That's why, if you're new to this blog, you'll see a lot about walking with dogs and about trying to learn from whatever each day gifts us with. You'll also see a lot of photos, and that's directly related to this blog, too. I was never much of a photographer (not that I am now, mind you) but after I started the blog my husband gifted me with a nifty little digital camera so I could take photos and upload them here.

That has resulted in a few photo galleries I'm particularly happy with, including this Galería de fotos from Old San Juan and a gallery of leaves from my college on the hill.

After I started my blog, my mami got inspired, too, and started her own, which is now almost a tablón de expresión pública among young and less-young bloggers in Puerto Rico. Her blog, Desahogo Boricua, is now a "must read" among many boricua bloggers and the discussions that ensue on her site are worthy of a erstwhile salon.

My husband also started his own blog, Not Just the Usual Grind, about his favorite consumable good: coffee. And even my brother got into the spirit of things, starting his own blog about being a Puerto Rican away from home, Boricuas Realengos. Any minute now, my sister or my dad might catch the fever and start blogging away! My sister, who teaches Spanish, doesn't have a blog (yet) but she does have a nice webpage at her school.

At the source of all this bloggery is Dr. S, who inspired me with her long-running blog, My Cabinet of Distractions, which has received recognition among bloggers and which regularly boasts breathtakingly beautiful photographs and prose. I love checking out her blog just to keep abreast with her adventures (which are real ones, since she's currently in England), and her readership is unflaggingly supportive of her and loving.

In more serious matters, today isn't important because I started a blog last year. Today, many celebrate the legacy of Martin Luther King, Jr. Critical race theorist Derrick Bell came to my college on the hill last year around this time and he argued that King and Christ had a lot of things in common. For one, they both came to liberate their people and they both paid with their lives for that burden.

When the world gets to be too much, as it often does, it's good to remember people like Martin Luther King, Jr., who gave it all for a cause. That is the power of one. Happy Birthday, Dr. King! May your legacy be eternal and may we be worthy of your sacrifice.

Close encounters

The first week at my college on the hill was busy with meetings, re-connections, errands and teaching.

My new group is large (my class is full at 20 students) but they're ready to rock 'n roll, and by the way they took to the theory of the "contact zone" last week, I think they're going to, at the very least match, the great group I had last semester. But then again, that's not surprising in my college on the hill. It's just that kind of teaching heaven.

I've also been busy with my Monster, getting a third chapter ready to ship out to my advisor. Last week, he sent me a very complimentary note on my revisions to Chapter 1 and for the first time since we started this process said he wasn't going to bother sending me the manuscript back with any comments, because they were so minor. I think that means I've finally figured out what's solidly strong dissertation writing. It was time, don't you think? Especially since I'm hoping to defend in June... Más vale tarde que nunca, as we say.

Now I'm finishing the revisions to Chapter 2 and since Chapter 4 is done, then it's on to Chapter 3. I have most of my preface written so what will remain after the last chapter is conceptualized and written in the next few months, is the conclusion. My hope is that the whole Monster will be ready to take in person to my advisor in late May. Yeiiii!

The little apartment in the woods is the ideal place to stay on course with my Monster. Not only is it quiet and there are no interruptions, but there's always something interesting going on outside the large picture window in the living room, where I have set up my laptop to work.

This past week, as I was typing away at my Monster, I noticed a group of deer milling about, trying to get something off the frozen, snow-covered ground. I was sorry the dogs couldn't see them because I know they were disappointed that we didn't run into any deer during our many long walks.

Suddenly, a doe in the group appeared to smell the bird feed on the sill outside the window. Just as I concluded that this is what she must be doing with her nose in the air, she strolled right over and started munching and licking away at the seeds. I was so excited that I gingerly picked up the phone and called my husband, making sure I didn't scare her off with any sudden movements.

"Get the camera!" he said, and I did. And this is the result. So focused was she on her eating that she didn't mind the flash and she let me take several pictures as she snacked. My husband and I both think the resulting pictures are hilarious.

Full and pleased, she gave me one last parting look as she rejoined her group. Later, I cut up some apple and threw it outside and when I returned, it was gone. I have a feeling that I haven't seen the last of her yet. One more reason to love the little apartment in the woods.

Smart and brave

No doubt about it, the smartest, bravest little birds are the chickadees and the titmice. At long last, the dogs and I are back in the apartment in the woods in my small college on the hill.

It's been a long time since I've put out the seed and the suet for the wild birds and my window was sadly very quiet for most of this morning when it seemed no birds had yet realized that I was back.

But that changed completely only a minute ago when a little chickadee and two titmice came over to see if there was any sign of life here. To their delight, they found a lot of seed strewn on the window sill outside, a suet cake hanging from the up-to-now empty basket, and seed poured into the small window-box feeder. Now, there's an eye-feast of birds out there, including two nuthatches that came to find out what all the chickadees were chattering about.

(A red-bellied woodpecker just came, too!)

I'm already settled and the dogs are in their appointed places, snoozing away contentedly after I gave them a short walk in the snow. While it was mostly clear when I left my little city, the snow caught up with me once I arrived at this northern county and it's been spitting snow since I arrived an hour or so ago.

That means that instead of taking the car everywhere, as I mostly do at home, I'll be walking to my department, to the post office, and to the bookstore for some supplies. Later, when I get back here, I'll have to take the car to the grocery store to stock up. But I'm looking forward to a brisk walk in the snow across the tiny town that hugs the small college on the hill.

Tomorrow, I start teaching again. Hopefully, this semester will be as rewarding as the last one. At any rate, I'll take my cue from the smart and brave little birds now flitting in and out of view through my large picture window: I'll welcome any challenges and opportunities that come my way.

A lone wolf finds a small pack

When we first moved to Ohio almost seven years ago and I was basically on my own most of the time (my husband working at his new job and I with no other obligations than taking care of our tiny apartment), I used to drive up to the nearby town-style mall to people-watch.

I remember stopping at the Chinese-style restaurant for take out one day and watching a group of friends at a table chatting and laughing and obviously having a good time together. The yearning I felt upon seeing them so happy surprised me because I've basically gotten used to being a lone wolf, who can count her close friends with one hand (or less) and who's learned over many years to rely mostly on myself (or my pets) for company.

Back in high school, I had a fun group of very close friends, basically guys, and my dad was always making jokes about my being usually the only girl in the group. I also had a group of friends in college for a while but none of those friendships survived the drama of being in our early 20s or the years or the distances. That includes my most long-standing friend from high school. Our friendship of almost 30 years could not withstand my last move from Puerto Rico. He is now, basically and sadly, almost a stranger and I likely will not call him next time I visit the island. Like sleeping dogs, dead friendships should be allowed to just lie.

Once in graduate school here, I tried to make friends but the age difference was too immense and the people I met too caught up in themselves and in the drama of their late 20s for much bonding to occur. Soon enough, I was back to being a lone wolf.

That all changed, and all for the better, when I met my two girl friends, KG and TK. These are two of the women I most admire and like in the whole world, and while they're both about a decade-plus younger than I am, I don't feel the difference when we're together. And that's a gift that probably only a woman in her late 40s can truly appreciate. They always make me feel like a young woman, not the cranky bitch I can be, especially around immature and self-absorbed people (regardless of age).

That's why it was easy to put the Monster aside for a day to spend it with these great women yesterday. First, KG and I went to a winter farmer's market, which was jam-packed with people, and I was able to get some great Winesap apples (I love the name!) and some fresh-baked goodies for my husband. Then she and I met up with TK at that same mall and had lunch at that same Chinese-style restaurant and shopped and shared some great chisme and discussed movies and books and our respective men and work and politics and cooking utensils and fashion and food and whatever else came into our minds.

At one point during our lunch at the restaurant, when we were laughing and having a good time together, I was struck by how much this scene reminded me of that other one almost seven years ago, the one I had so yearned for. I'm still quite the lone wolf, but at least once in a while I have a tiny pack of wonderful girl friends to share a great time with and that's something to be very, very thankful for.

Breaking cycles

Very soon, next week in fact, I'll return with the dogs to my small college on the hill for another round of 17 or so weeks spent half there and half here. My routines will remain remarkably similar - walking the dogs twice a day, working doggedly on my Monster - but they also will vary in other ways.

For one, Darwin won't be coming, as he is doing right now, to try to lie on my lap while I type at the computer. An unrepentant Mama's Boy, Darwin loves to stand on my lap and place his front paws on my left arm and "hang" like that, purring contentedly and wagging his extra-long tail. He also likes to head-butt my left arm, which doesn't make for much accurate typing, while he kneads my thigh, which is now covered in little incisions, some newer, others healing, made by his claws, which I'm not terribly good at keeping clipped.

Still, he's better than Magellan, who when she decides she wants my attention, basically plops herself unceremoniously on top of the keyboard and begins to insert whatever errors she decides are needed in what I'm typing, be it this blog or my Monster or school work.

Magellan also doesn't come with me to the little apartment in the woods at the small college on the hill and I'm a little concerned because she's been wanting a lot more watering lately. Those of you who know me, know that Magellan has been "watered" with a bottle since she was an un-weaned kitten. She never outgrew this watering and my husband says it fulfills some kind of psychological need for both the cat and myself. But it's sometimes a drag to have to water that cat three, four, five or six times a day. My husband, of course, says she drinks fine out of the bowl when I'm not here.

Today I had a flash of genius and I placed a shallow water bowl near the bathroom sink. She drank avidly from that this afternoon and I'm hoping she gets used to it and relieves me from my self-imposed responsibility.

Although I've really appreciated the long break between the time school ends in December and when it starts in the new year, and it's been very productive (another finished and revamped limb of my Monster went off to my advisor yesterday Priority Mail), I am looking forward to getting back into the classroom and interacting with the students once again.

This semester I'm teaching a class I've already taught before, so it won't involve as much prep work as last semester when, foolish me, I taught a totally new class and had to read (and read about) several texts I had never read before so I could teach them. I don't regret the decision because that class was one of the best (if not the very best) I've taught yet, but it did take a lot of time that I could've invested in my Monster.

Still, I'm right on schedule to defend si Dios quiere in June and then graduate in August. My husband is making noises about throwing me a graduation "You're finally a Ph.D.!" party, and while I'm not much of a party person I think this one is one I have to have. It's been such a long haul in so many ways.

Meanwhile, my advisor sent me information on a great summer workshop at Cornell on transnational theory and feminism and I was looking today at the Bread Loaf Workshop in Non-Fiction at Middlebury, also in the summer, thinking I might want to do that someday (if I get accepted, of course).

But if I've made one resolution this year already it's this: Come June, if and when I'm able to finish my Monster, and after I've fulfilled my summer program responsibilities, I'm taking the rest of the summer off to do absolutely nothing of academic or intellectual importance or significance or value. I'm going to break the cycle of work-work-work that I've been on since August 2002, when I entered my program with the goal of completing a Ph.D.

Being a creature of habit and routine, I'm definitely a woman who enjoys cycles. But the cycle that brought me into and has maintained me unwaveringly within the Ph.D. track is one I'll let go off for about two months this summer. That'll make getting back into the working groove, when my tenure-track school year begins in August, even more special.