When we lived in Ithaca, the different parts of our life were complementary: when we wanted a reprieve from books, we hiked. When school wound up in the spring, gardening took off. When we needed to stay in and read, it was generally cold or even downright inhospitable outside. Yes, that’s excessively simplified and idealized (I remember one hot summer, wrapping up a paper while we all sweltered in May), but, still, it seems that life has gotten infinitely more complicated since then.
We now have children who are not content to be put off until our students’ grades are submitted (or, even, until the work day is over), we’re now juggling multiple school schedules, and we’ve moved to the South, where the spring warms up just when the work gets heaviest for us and our students. I’m wrapping up grading during finals week right now, and it’s been hot for quite a while here in Kentucky. Academic gowns that were originally designed for cold medieval Europe (Oxford’s hoods are still fur-lined) are one of the most-loathed parts of our upcoming graduation weekend. It’s supposed to be 88-89 degrees during the ceremony . . .
Lots of interesting changes in our life both now and in the near future. One of my former students is going to rent our basement for the summer, we have both a lovely Japanese maple tree and more topsoil coming on Saturday, and we only have two weeks until Sydney and I head out for a long conference/anniversary trip while Grandma and Grandpa Birdsong take over here. We’re not sure we’re really ready for all of this, but we’re still quite excited.