Something Up With Which I Will Not Put

Dr. T has hit the big 4-0. Since January, I have been planning a surprise party - and somehow, we pulled it off without Dr. T figuring it all out ahead of time.

Wanna see?

More details and pictures and so on to come.

How's that ice tea working for ya?

Hauppl said: "We all know what it means now, but for us F**king is F**king - we don't give it a second thought."

Via Bill.

Sigh. Time marches on. As I write this, people at Champlain are hard at work on the first week of classes. I miss the campus, I miss my colleagues, I miss my students, I miss my office. I actually dreamed that I crashed a Champlain English department meeting, and Katie wouldn't talk to me because I had left.

Classes start at Vanier next week, so I'm up to my eyeballs in calendars of various shapes and colour codes, preparing assignment schedules, reading lists and lesson plans. I dropped off my course outlines today, and checked the bookstore - two of my three book orders are filled, and the third is "on the truck." Some things never change.

My third Performa course has already begun. This one is called Instructional Strategies, and involves being video-taped twice, once presenting a course plan to my fellow students and once actually teaching. And I can't even teach naked and try to sell the video. I've already been subjected to the first round, and now I have to write a self-assessment, presumably one that makes more useful observations than "I'm now rethinking my haircut" or "well, never wearing that t-shirt again."

I really do miss Champlain - but I have to admit, it's nice being at home for the back-to-school gearing up with Colin and Robert. Robert starts kindergarten next week! All the requisite supplies are ready - not only bought, but labelled, down to the individual crayon - and we're all excited.

But, still... I have no one to throw that really annoying bumpy superball at, Zeffie! Champlainers, if you're out there, I miss you all and will be thinking of you often as I get to know my new home.

Okay, I understand the appeal of the name "Maggie." I have almost gotten used to people using the name for their favourite pets. But this is the last straw.

There was no sight of her seven-week-old puppy, Maggie, or the cage in which she used to carry it.

From now on, consider "Maggie" off-limits, pending approval on a case-by-case basis. Applicants will be asked to provide photos of the pet in question, not to mention a damned good reason, such as a wealthy aunt with the same name who has threated (in writing) to disinherit the applicant if said pet is named something more pet-like, such as "Fido."

If you're truly stuck, may I suggest this website.

Robert was playing pinball on my Dr. T's new Funhouse machine, and I was cheering him on - "good shot, Robert!"

He looked at me and said, "maybe this should be a quiet game where no one talks."