First day of class for the Fall 2012 semester began in an unusual way. That is to say, I've never begun a school semester by waking up next to the guy I'm married to at half six in the morning so that he could go to a job interview with a large law firm in Indianapolis. The interviews started at half nine, so I sat with him while he drank his coffee and waved him good-bye (all very proper and domestic) before going for a run. For the past few days we've had lovely cool, clear, dry weather, and on Saturday I mapped out a new route for myself. It takes me through the neighbourhoods in a spiral centred on our house. This way I can appreciate the lovely neighbourhood and explore its nooks and crannies--its shaded avenues, lush lawns, painted houses, and bright gardens--as a distraction from how unhappy my lungs are.
By the time I came home, Laura had left for her morning run. She, Stephen, and I ate breakfast together (they're visiting right now), and then I spent the morning scampering around my computer, preparing to teach. At about a quarter to twelve, I walked to campus. Leaving Elm Heights or reentering Elm Heights from campus always makes me feel as though I'm leaving/entering a dense green labyrinth. By comparison campus seems crowded, bright, and chaotic.
The 12:20 section I taught seems to be full of bright students. I was terribly nervous to start with, but it got easier as the session went on, and the students made good analytical contributions to discussion. Their critical thinking skills seemed to kick in quickly. After class several of them came up to introduce themselves or ask questions about the syllabus.
Then I sat outside and ate lunch on the slope by the Bryan House (above). Admired the cool afternoon, read Geoffrey Hill. When I went back to Ballantine for the 2:30 section, I ran into Jackie and Lisa on the sidewalk, and Heather in the hall. The 2:30 section does not seem to be nearly as bright. Perhaps lunch ate their brains. They were too busy constructing a narrative for the picture I asked them to analyze, instead of analyzing/critiquing the picture. Oh, well.
When I got home, Scott was sitting in the kitchen, where Laura was occupied with making bagels. Scott gave us the rundown of the interview, and a few minutes later, Rich showed up, so Scott had to tell the story all over again. The three of us sat in the living room, and Rich listened to Scott talk, gave him counsel about this new job possibility, asked him questions, etc.
At about half four, Jane and Anne showed up, having been dropped off by Amy. Anne and Laura bonded mysteriously over the bagels, but Jane was her old crazy, wonky self, and insisted on being carried around the house piggy-back in an endless quest for Aria (Stephen revealed after they'd left that Aria had been hiding in the medicine cabinet under the sink in the basement bathroom!). We charged all over the house and lawn, Jane crowing, "Aria! Dear Aria!" over and over, and sometimes, "Blanche-y!" The funny thing was that she didn't actually want to pet the cats, just to see them, and would get very freaked out by Clover, who was sprawled on my desk and glared at us ferociously whenever we investigated the office.
After they left, Scott, Laura, Stephen, and I drove to Laura's for dinner, stopping at Sahara Mart for wine on the way. Two of Laura's old friends, Peter and Leah, joined us, and of course Cindy was there, too, since she lives in the Allen St. house now. We made quite a merry party.
We came home at about nine to find the cats quarreling with each other out of hunger. Scott fed them, and then he and Laura joined me in the office and proceeded to read bits of Russian out of the old textbook. Outside, crickets chirp. A storm went over this evening, though Bloomington had very little rain. The air is already warmer and more humid, so I suppose we're back to normal summer weather again. That brief spell of autumn was so pleasant while it lasted.
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