Monday, December 5, 2011
Honolulu, HI
The term is finally over, and Mt. Grademore and I have cast conniving, sidelong looks at one another, packed our weighty selves into suitcases, and left for Hawaii. No kidding: Mt. Grademore on parade takes up half my freaking luggage. But now, after only four flights and a total of 27 hours of travel, here we are in sunny Oahu. And within 24 hours of arriving in Honolulu, I could already cross "hug a cylon" off my to-do list. Such is the benefit of having a partner who works on Hawai'i Five-0.
Best story to come into our lives recently as a result of D's time in Hawaii?
When D was last with me at Farfara (our new house in Nova Scotia), he got a message from the friend who'd been his replacement on the show for the previous three weeks. "I came back from a hike and started your car," it read, "but it was making a terrible squealing noise. When I lifted the hood, I discovered that there was a mongoose in your engine."
"In Halifax, do you occasionally find a moose under your hood?" asked one witty friend of ours, upon hearing this story.
"No," I replied, "but D did find a mink in the woodpile the other day."
"Mink in the Woodpile," chimed in another, "Best lesbian bar name ever."
I couldn't help it: "'Mink in the Woodpile, Mongoose in the Engine' sounds like the title of a conference paper I'd write." I paused to reflect. "It's subtitle would be 'Constru/icting Sexualities from Atlantic to Pacific."
"Mieux vaut un mangouste dans son moteur qu'un tigre (Proverbe Chinois du 3eme Millenaire BC)," intoned a French friend, who then sent me this video:
In the face of that brilliance, what was there really left to say?
Just this: "When I form my mongoose conference panel, the second paper is going to be titled 'Mongeese: Allegories of Collectivism.'"
Once a rat died in our car's ventilation system. This is a waaaay better story. Can you require online submission of assignments?
It's Esso that puts a tiger in your tank.
I couldn't help it: "'Mink in the Woodpile, Mongoose in the Engine' sounds like the title of a conference paper I'd write." I paused to reflect. "It's subtitle would be 'Constru/icting Sexualities from Atlantic to Pacific."
I think my contribution to the conference would have to be "Something Nasty in the Woodshed: No Sex Please, We're British."
I do require online submission of my take-home final exams, Liz (the first ones are due tomorrow - eek!), but the one year I did all my papers online (which happened to be a particularly intensive composition instruction year), I found that I comment so much more minutely and extensively on online submissions that it takes about twice as long to grade them. Then again, that was years ago, when I was a much less experienced teacher. Maybe it's time to have another experiment with it. I also wonder if students proof-read less thoroughly when they are submitting assignments online. (This is folly: I highly doubt whether students ever proofread hard copy, which is an essential step in my composition process.)
Meanwhile, clearly we need to find a conference venue for the Small Mammal Metaphor panel, Laura, because it seems more real with every passing conversation! I'm just glad we didn't name Farfara, which is in the rocky, windbattered region called the "coastal barrens," "Cold Comfort." But it's definitely a novelistic setting.