@jasonlimon creates uncanny paintings of skeletons, who find themselves in all sorts of weird situations. Definitely my kind of art.

Much needed beach day yesterday.

Quiet early afternoon at the library. Reading about the history of the northern European Renaissance in art, science, and philosophy, which, according the author, often rivaled its Italian counterpart.

For the past 25 years, I’ve had the privilege of guiding my own educational journey as an 8th-grade English teacher. Throughout this time, I’ve delved into the works of literary giants such as Shakespeare, Vonnegut, Bradbury, and Hawthorne, explored timeless classics like To Kill a Mockingbird, 12 Angry Men, and The Count of Monte Cristo.

In my classroom, discussions transcend mere plot analysis; we dive into the depths of justice, the pursuit of happiness, and the very fabric of reality itself. I’ve witnessed students crafting novellas, engaging in spirited debates, and producing insightful 20-page research papers. Their curiosity and intellect have pushed me to grow just as much as I’ve challenged them.

It’s been an amazing ride.

But now, as the specter of AI writing, lesson planning, and grading looms over education, my school is moving towards a pre-packaged, standardized curriculum for the next year. This shift feels like the end of an era, a departure from the creativity and autonomy that have defined my teaching career. It’s a sentiment that Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar captures perfectly.

I saw the days of the year stretching ahead like a series of bright white boxes and separating one box from another was sleep like a black shade. Only for me, the long perspective of shades that set off one box from the next day had suddenly snapped up. And I could see day after day after day glaring ahead of me like a white, broad, infinitely desolate avenue.

Final college visit and….we have a winner!

First signs of spring.

There is something inherently creepy about empty hospital hallways. 😬

Local coffee shop going full Hogwarts.

A different kind of true.

Library haul for a snowy weekend.

Supposed to turn to rain soon, but the school’s courtyard looks pretty now.

New-to-me bookstore knows where it’s at.

First real snow of the year. Better late than never.

4/5 stars. Sean Harris is amazing.

2nd to last long run of 2023. Spent this morning in the woods. Still wishing for some snow though.

Two roads diverged…

#SaturdayLongRun 12/16/23

12/9/23 Weekend Long run

My wife and daughter went to Iceland last week, so of course they bought me a book! Looking forward to diving into this one, but I think I am going to save it until October to give myself something new to enjoy the Halloween season. I have not read much in the way of Icelandic folklore so it should be interesting.

Icelandic ghost stories derive their inspiration from the unforgiving climate and remote villages of the country, playing up the eerie ambiance. They can be found in sagas, folklore, and the oral traditions of various regions.

A noteworthy aspect that my wife learned on her trip is that Icelanders possess a distinct perspective on these supernatural entities, with many embracing their existence as genuine. While a few may approach these stories skeptically, they remain an indispensable part of Icelandic cultural heritage, shared with equal enthusiasm by both locals and visitors.

Deep in the woods after a light snow = my happy place. ❄️

Back to the lab again-

Happy Thanksgiving from the summit.

First trail run in sub freezing temps. Not many people on the mountain this week. Too bad, they don’t know what they are missing in the cold and the quiet.

Veterans Day trail run. Made it to the top of Gibbs Mountain, which is more of a big hill, but my legs were still burning.