tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27126945286339785522024-03-13T06:52:13.733-07:00Post-Tenure Reviewauto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.comBlogger407125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-11413156453690706632012-11-24T15:26:00.002-08:002012-11-24T15:27:18.076-08:00Isabel gets a brother...Congratulations Holly! Guess we had your thesis review timeline down to a VERY fine wire.<br />
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auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-33370313742648603622012-09-23T14:54:00.001-07:002012-09-23T14:57:44.364-07:00snickers and earrings<div style="text-align: justify;">
I love talking to my mom when she's herself, and not angry or confused. I hope when I'm 83 and otherwise a pain in the neck to my kids that I ask of them a "really big favor" like the one mine just asked of me: "can you send me some butterfingers and snickers, and also some earrings?" Pretty cute. She loves the caretakers at her assisted living place, is walking again, and is doing some limited socializing on site. For instance, she apparently went to a bible study this morning. I hope her money holds out so we can keep her there forever. She has made the turn (we, on the other hand, still have to deal with her house and her fantasy that one day she'll get to go back and be in-charge of emptying and selling it). Meanwhile, I am really thankful that her daily needs are being so well-attended to and that all it takes to make her feel really special is some earrings and a few candy bars. Hope this mood holds till Christmas.</div>
auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-84364044849377136782012-09-20T07:02:00.006-07:002012-09-20T07:03:36.389-07:00cannot wait.......for tonight! Three lectures to roll through and one last thesis chapter to edit, and then we're headed out to C*lshakes with some friends to see Hamlet! So excited!auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-9071922208487848772012-07-09T19:27:00.002-07:002012-07-10T07:17:16.207-07:00eleventh hour chaos rethought<div style="text-align: justify;">
Just got off the phone with one of my grad students who is one week away from submitting the thesis to grad studies for a summer graduation. We've been through more rounds of substantive and stylistic revisions--not to mention formatting edits--than I can remember. It is a very good product. I'm very proud of the student and the work. So, so happy it's about to take flight. Then what happens? An interviewee, blithely ignorant of the more practical ramifications of doing so at the last minute, calls student today and says she has decided she wants to withdraw her interview. "It was a great experience and all,"...but she's shy about sharing the content with a wider audience, not sure it was her place to participate in the discussion on behalf of her community and so forth. Understood (but kind of unfortunate, too, as she represented a particular group and perspective that would have been valuable for others, including her own peers, to read and hear about), but couldn't she have made this decision a year ago, before the interview was transcribed, the data integrated into the thesis, the transcript labeled as Appendix D, and cited as such (here, there and everywhere) throughout the larger body of the thesis? Sigh. I've never had this happen before, and obviously neither has the student. Our solution? Leave the cover sheet for said appendix/transcript (stands now as appendix "D"), remove the name of the individual, leave the date and place of the interview, then insert a single page to follow, noting that the interviewee elected to withdraw the transcript just prior to the filing of the thesis. We'll note that any direct references to the individual or the interview content have been removed from the qualitative data discussion, but any discussions of percentages or other quantitative analysis reflects the complete corpus of interviews. Or some such statement. This way, the student won't have to relabel (and change citations for!) all the other transcripts D through P or whatever it is--because locating and changing all those in-text citations would be trickier than a simple search and replace. Also, I don't think it serves any real end to completely obliterate the fact this interview took place. And given the theoretical and methodological discussion to which this thesis contributes, it sort of instantiates the argument to have a community member withdraw her interview. At least that is what we are telling ourselves now. At this eleventh hour. But, I also think it is true. So I guess I've almost talked myself through this. Now to talk the student off of the precipice.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fJsZCNjhq3w/T_uOosk94dI/AAAAAAAACsk/MMPeAo7_Yx0/s1600/IMG_1958.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fJsZCNjhq3w/T_uOosk94dI/AAAAAAAACsk/MMPeAo7_Yx0/s320/IMG_1958.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
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Very clever birds, eh? I could use a cigarette right now...tequila and triple sec will have to do, since I'm not a smoker. But damn...it's been a long day. Of dealing, mostly, with the entirely predictable fall-out from one colleague's affair with the wife of another colleague. So yeah--a withdrawn interview isn't such a big deal in the wider scheme of things..right? </div>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-77233297413939498952012-07-05T23:00:00.002-07:002012-07-05T23:00:32.320-07:005 years<div style="text-align: justify;">
I almost forgot. Today is the 5th anniversary of my very haphazard blogging adventures. Life is busy and I don't want to get too distracted from my actual work, but I feel like I should post something just to mark the day. When I was in Chicago last month, my brother and I went through some images my S-I-L found in my mom's house. This is a hastily taken iPhone copy of a photograph of my mom with her mother and brothers. Must have been taken around 1940 in Arkansas or Louisiana (will have to check the 1940 census to see where they were living), but she was born in Bentonville (home of the big box store, much to her dismay), and I suspect that is the setting for this photograph. I must say, my uncles were loads of fun. The older one was an avid hunter and the one on the right was gentlemen rancher who sold insurance for a living.* They'd be great models for characters in a novel. But I've got other things to write, at least for now. </div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: x-small;">*I</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: x-small; text-align: justify;"> spent one of the best summers of my childhood at his family's ranch--culturally, it was a world away from the snooty Denver suburb we lived in at that time. My mom and dad were the only kids in each of their families who moved away from their parents. I've always wondered what it would have been like if we had grown up around our g-parents and cousins (who all married and had kids really young). Instead, my parents were (for better or worse) the "escapees" from their families of origin. Isn't it interesting to think how lives are variously made and unmade by such decisions? </span></div>
<br />auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-43038513489590312292012-06-25T18:20:00.001-07:002012-06-25T18:20:25.524-07:00trying again w/creepiness<div style="text-align: justify;">
Thanks to <a href="http://www.senseworlds.com/bewilderness/">Anthea</a>'s comment on my last post, I now realize that it is kind of difficult to read the ad. Here we go again. I just think it is beyond creepy that this was RIGHT next to an ad related to construction bids for an Indian boarding school. Sick.</div>
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<br />auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-8228299363977353372012-06-24T13:54:00.000-07:002012-06-24T14:10:18.233-07:00creepiness<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;">I downloaded this page for the ad that appears at the very bottom, 3rd column from the right. But, check out the one right next to it (2nd column from the right). I thought this was an ironic coincidence, but having now found a second example of the two ads (dealer and Fed. Indian Svc.) appearing in close proximity, I've decided that the</span><i> SF Chronicle</i><span style="background-color: white;"> ad department did this on purpose. Creepy.</span></div>
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</div>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-50507997258146395312012-06-15T10:34:00.001-07:002012-06-15T10:51:09.597-07:00MGC takes his show on the road<div style="text-align: justify;">
Remember <a href="http://lifeaftertenure.blogspot.com/2007/09/shifting-into-overdrive.html">this exhibit</a>? It has traveled quite a bit since it premiered at our place. First to Stanford, then to UW-M, and this past fall, to a nearby community museum where HL works. I went out one day last August to help MGC and HL install. Here are some pics from the day. It is always interesting and instructive to see how shows get adapted to the layout and gallery furniture available at various venues. Here, the wall color and the bank of exhibit drawers worked really well. </div>
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<br /></div>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-3882959765194485302012-06-13T12:50:00.002-07:002012-06-13T12:51:34.237-07:00framed!<div style="text-align: justify;">
Here is the framed version of my ledger art (details of purchase <a href="http://lifeaftertenure.blogspot.com/2012/06/art-of-frame.html">here</a>). This was my reward/celebration for earning full professor. I had received my dean's letter of recommendation for promotion a week or two before we went to the Marin show, but I wanted to wait for the provost's letter before getting it framed. I just love the way it turned out. For me, the big question about framing styles was whether to highlight the archival quality of the piece (i.e. the ephemera) or to foreground the contemporary art component. Clearly, I went with the latter. The first image is a cropped version of the second one (I had a hard time dealing with the glare from the glass while also getting enough light to show the true colors). What do you think?</div>
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I bought my <a href="http://lifeaftertenure.blogspot.com/2007/07/drum-roll-please-seaside-pearl-exterior.html">Prius</a> when I was promoted to associate professor, so it's 5 years old now, but still running like a gem. I think the biggest expense associated with it must be the new (clean!) floor mats I just purchased. I love that car; every time I pull into a gas station I think "wow, it's been a long time since I've had to do this!" </div>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-65527880645523481152012-06-12T12:14:00.002-07:002012-06-12T12:14:44.379-07:00keepers<div style="text-align: justify;">
I came back from my sabbatical year thinking "Hmm, what aspect of this job am I going to jettison so that I don't kill myself?" Midway through the semester I decided it would not be our graduate program--my seminar was going too well. In the past, every seminar I've taught has had at least one or two stand-outs, along with at least one student who is either just not up to the task, entirely ambivalent, or a complete pain-in-the-ass (why are these types in grad school?). But this past semester, they were all keepers. Each one brought a very different perspective and intellectual energy to the course, including one who asked over the summer for instructor permission (not in our department) and whom I discouraged in every way possible (no previous work in the discipline) over the course of a month, until finally folding the week classes began. On the last evening of the seminar, some of them waited around afterwards with notes of thanks and this book. Wow. I doubt I'll ever again teach a seminar with even half the esprit de corp of this one, but I guess I'm going to hang in there for a while longer. </div>
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<br /></div>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-45930316849262371322012-06-10T14:49:00.001-07:002012-06-10T15:14:09.629-07:00advanced technology of old<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My very cool find from today's <a href="http://lifeaftertenure.blogspot.com/2012/06/pros-and-cons.html">shopping trip</a>: a 45 RPM recording for Carol from Sidney (reverse label is exactly the same, except for the names inscribed on the dotted lines). I'm not sure when these were produced, but it must have been very exciting to receive one and get to hear a loved one's actual voice. </div>
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Should I try to play it? Very tempting--although it's not in great shape. Look for it soon on my home or campus office wall.<br />
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<br /></div>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-27197428167172969842012-06-10T08:34:00.002-07:002012-06-10T15:07:30.365-07:00pros and cons<div style="text-align: justify;">
Over the course of the last week, I've been working hard to clean up and organize the debris of the 2011-2012 academic school year. In the past, I've managed to get this chore done during or immediately after finals week, but this last year has been especially busy and crazy. And I started the school year behind, in the sense that I had never managed to recover from the mental, emotional and physical chaos caused by the ongoing saga that is my mother's crazy life (notice I am trying not to call her crazy). I've only just now managed to refile boxes of documents and mss. that I brought home from my aborted sabbatical. I'm working on letting go of my resentment about the timing of her latest crisis, but I'm not there yet. </div>
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While I've not found much time to blog this year, I did keep a computer file of images that were intended to be blog fodder. Since I'm now working on cleaning up my computer desktop and Endnote files, I'm going to go ahead and post them. Some are really out-of-date. Others, while old, still retain some currency. This one is an instance of the latter. I smile every time I see it. It is a white board in MP1's Dallas apartment. She's still acclimating to her work place and city (which has lots to recommend it--great museums, for instance). And she hasn't been there a full year (i.e. serious summer heat and humidity still to come). We always encourage her to write out her thoughts, so I was happy to see this (and she gave me permission to post it). I guess the only thing that has really changed since she made this initial list is that she's been thinking of going to SMU for an MBA--they have a version that incorporates an Arts Mgmt. Certificate. The two of us visited the campus in March (a trip I'll never forget). But that's a different post and set of pictures. Right now, I'm off to church w/MGC (jk); we are headed to "second Sunday"--antique/junk market under the freeway. </div>
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I'm SO excited. Next week, I get to pick this up from the framer's and I cannot wait to see how my choices of mat and frame are going to look. What mat colors and frame style would you have chosen?</div>
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I bought this in late February, at the 28th Annual Mar*n Art of the Amer*ca's Show, which is just an amazing gathering of ethnographic art dealers and contemporary American Indian artists: photographers, jewelers, potters, painters, weavers. When HL, CD (Graphics Girl) and I were making our plans to go, I was committed to buying a piece of ledger art by Michael H*orse. I've admired his work for more than a decade and have been smacking myself that I was too poor or cheap (poor the first time, cheap the second) to buy one of his paintings on old boarding school newspapers like <em>The Red M*n</em> (Carlisle Indian Industrial School). The first time I saw one of these was in the gift shop of the Heard Museum, when they were hosting a boarding school exhibit and we just happened to catch it on our way back from a conference in Flagstaff. I think the painting was $700, which now seems like a pittance. Last year, at the Mar*in Show, they were considerably more, but I just couldn't rationalize spending the $. But this year, I was committed to the purchase. Of course, he had exactly zero (!) paintings on boarding school newspapers with him. Gah! And I wasn't taken by any of the other options he'd brought to the show. BUT, around the corner was Terrance Gu*ardipee's booth. I had admired the vivid colors in his work last year (but again, saw it as way too pricey for my pocketbook--in part because his renderings are on a much larger scale than the tabloid-sized works of Horse). Gu*ardipee is Blackfeet and uses maps of Montana (ancestral territory), along with related archival ephemera, as the background for his work. The three of us combed through his offerings, while he explained the imagery and meanings (I tried not to take FOREVER, since I had insisted we visit the contemporary art side of the event prior to the ethnographic--which they were really there to see). In the end, I chose this piece because it I loved the colors and the fact that it was a woman warrior (which sort of relates to the rationale for my purchase--more on that next week). Her name is "Running Eagle." Stay tuned for the final framed version. I'll try to take a better photo for that (in part because I told Guar*dipee I'd email him an image of the finished product). Did I say that MGC is super jealous? Yes, he is. Yeah for me, because he has THE best collection of contemporary American Indian art of any of my friends. </div>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-90358206069673302362012-03-12T23:42:00.001-07:002012-03-12T23:42:58.890-07:00title<div style="text-align: justify;">One of my grad students sent me an electronic copy of her thesis draft last week. Document title? </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"WORKING DRAFT GOOOOOOOOD.doc." </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Now, my first inclination was to read that last word as an exaggerated, drawn out "good." But then I realized it was probably more like a long drawn out god. Pretty funny. </div>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-81735477425326710522012-03-10T13:32:00.002-08:002012-03-10T13:34:03.596-08:00office decor<div style="text-align: justify;">A hundred years ago, before my life became all about my mom's life and crises--I promised to post pictures of my office re-do. Seriously this was a long, long time ago, as in pre-sabbatical days. I just found the pics on my computer and remembered my blog password. Since everyone remarks upon and/or covets the lucite chair, I'll just say now that it was an IKEA purchase. And it is super comfortable. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5lsBpkjTYLo/T1vGFFum5BI/AAAAAAAACoU/10pGcjTT4W8/s1600/IMG_1557.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5lsBpkjTYLo/T1vGFFum5BI/AAAAAAAACoU/10pGcjTT4W8/s320/IMG_1557.JPG" width="320" yda="true" /></a></div><br />
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And that is a Frank LaP*ena mixed media work on the column. It was more than the chair, but still more affordable than one of his oil paintings (though I still aim to buy one of those as well). I hate that I've neglected my blog so much, but it is mostly a function of the chaos of the last year and a half. If you know who I am, feel free to find me on FB, but meanwhile I'm going to try to remember to carve out enough time to at least post a photo or two.</div>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-32347515471224025082011-12-22T08:48:00.000-08:002011-12-22T08:48:25.584-08:00end of grading hell<div style="text-align: justify;">This was the most exhausting semester of grading ever, but my grades are finally posted. I'll miss these two guys from my big class of 140. They were fun, bright lights. It is so nice to have smiling, interested and engaged students in those big lecture classes.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MIet0Dj6e3s/TvNfJOqiEQI/AAAAAAAACoM/2RqLkQ0k_PU/s1600/Anth+2+people.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" rea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MIet0Dj6e3s/TvNfJOqiEQI/AAAAAAAACoM/2RqLkQ0k_PU/s320/Anth+2+people.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-25841004537941318342011-12-08T23:24:00.000-08:002011-12-08T23:24:57.261-08:00grading<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">A little exercise (in grading), in case you've run out of your own.</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The doodles get an A. The diagram is missing<br />
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</tbody></table>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-42464627039666005202011-12-01T09:00:00.000-08:002011-12-01T09:02:05.443-08:00catching my breath<div style="text-align: justify;">Just logging in long enough to report (to those of you who know about the family crisis I've been living for the last year) that my mom is settled in Chicago. We still aren't sure how we pulled it off, but clearly the fall and second trip to a skilled nursing facility brought home to her the high degree of vulnerability her age and current mental state represents. My sister-in-law escorted her on the flight, while my brother and I, along with TH and MP2 (poor kid!--not much of a Thanksgiving Break) loaded the furniture from her assisted living apartment (unoccupied since her fall and long-term stay in the nursing home) into a u-haul truck for return to her house or the drive (my brother's) to Chicago. MP1 and MP2 saw her house (she didn't want that to happen, but it was good for them to see what we've been dealing with) and reminisced about memories of running around it as kids. That made me happy. I'm leaving out the details of the crisis on the Chicago end when my SIL and mom arrived to the facility into which she was supposed to move only to discover that they'd overbooked their skilled nursing facility (where she was supposed to be for a few more weeks before release to her assisted living facility in the same Senior Home). She spent Friday through Wednesday night at my brother's house meeting her great-grandkids, etc. Last night she was in the new apartment (and I mean new as in she refused to go back to the one originally reserved for her). Her cast is off and she is walking again (still needs lot of physical therapy, though). Last night I didn't wake up in a cold sweat worrying about her or her house. I SHOULD worry about her house, but I think I'll wait till January. Maybe I can write coherent posts by then.</div>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-67278250557773944572011-10-12T23:40:00.000-07:002011-10-12T23:40:39.195-07:00the link is fixed..for <a href="http://www.culturalherstory.wordpress.com/">cultural herstory</a>. auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-63334103565890429522011-09-29T16:43:00.000-07:002011-10-12T23:16:40.129-07:00what next???<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I am beyond busy. BEYOND it, truly. Today was the day I was going to make some real progress on some projects that have fallen to the wayside while I opened two exhibits (one co-curated with the mother of the cutie below). Instead, I've spent the day worrying about my mom, who fell in her bathroom early this morning, lay there for an hour until the assisted living staff found her, and was then whisked off to the ER (again--just there for potassium deficiency) where they diagnosed a broken wrist (right hand--of course(!!), surgery tomorrow for that, cut over the eye, and a bruised hip. They are also doing an MRI over some other concern they've discovered. Thank god my sister-in-law was already on her way down there to take her to a neurology appointment (they think she may have Parkinson's). That's canceled. A neurologist is going to see her in the hospital. So, so glad her hip isn't broken. I talked to her for a while. She's surprisingly okay with all this. I guess our standards for "okay' are changing. And now--I'm going to get back to the work I had planned for today. One day I will write a bunch of catch-up posts. Hang in there RL, yay that you're writing P-O, and everyone please note: I've got a new blog on my blogroll. <a href="http://www.culturalherstory.wordpress.com/">Cultural Herstory</a>. You should all check it out.<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hvJN3DKn6yc/ToT_E7Al-gI/AAAAAAAACn8/FlwX9_IM3_A/s1600/IMG_1139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" kca="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hvJN3DKn6yc/ToT_E7Al-gI/AAAAAAAACn8/FlwX9_IM3_A/s320/IMG_1139.JPG" width="155" /></a> </div>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-1947453900825500002011-09-14T20:17:00.000-07:002011-09-14T20:18:26.773-07:00work<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Just have to say somewhere: I am way underpaid for the work I do.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WWqlYJs62xM/TnFteiq3eZI/AAAAAAAACn4/ZM8-EHHDios/s1600/IMG_0843.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WWqlYJs62xM/TnFteiq3eZI/AAAAAAAACn4/ZM8-EHHDios/s320/IMG_0843.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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But here's an iPhone image to remind me of the people I care about. </div>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-7826926657206350092011-07-24T21:35:00.000-07:002011-08-03T06:49:12.339-07:00playing tourist in our own backyard<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Yesterday was our anniversary.* <span style="font-size: small;">We had a great time hiking, then eating at a nearby farmhouse restaurant (I had a delicious cioppino). Then we drove home and had dessert on the terrace of a favorite french pastry place, while listening to a band of old guys having a great time. Very mellow, lovely day.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZQ8z1nbuqaU/Tizo4YN_N_I/AAAAAAAACng/Q4jBWGH_pYc/s1600/IMG_4340.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZQ8z1nbuqaU/Tizo4YN_N_I/AAAAAAAACng/Q4jBWGH_pYc/s320/IMG_4340.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It is a long way down to the lighthouse.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cTS7EqS47Yo/Tizoyxw3hII/AAAAAAAACnY/DBjDR-m61ts/s1600/IMG_4337.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cTS7EqS47Yo/Tizoyxw3hII/AAAAAAAACnY/DBjDR-m61ts/s320/IMG_4337.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The equivalent of 30 stories.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lcEwsYR9JNE/Tizo1VUWZII/AAAAAAAACnc/SdZ_akq5eik/s1600/IMG_4338.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lcEwsYR9JNE/Tizo1VUWZII/AAAAAAAACnc/SdZ_akq5eik/s320/IMG_4338.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Getting closer.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VMGyArHc2Tg/TizswvI2a0I/AAAAAAAACnw/5kovJioDnCY/s1600/IMG_4332.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VMGyArHc2Tg/TizswvI2a0I/AAAAAAAACnw/5kovJioDnCY/s320/IMG_4332.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Last time we were here (a decade ago?), the lens house was closed.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This time, we timed our trip accordingly.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2IkjikT4oiA/TizocgHCrWI/AAAAAAAACm8/8C--XF8S_XQ/s1600/IMG_4324.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2IkjikT4oiA/TizocgHCrWI/AAAAAAAACm8/8C--XF8S_XQ/s320/IMG_4324.JPG" t$="true" width="227" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The wait to get in was long, but the views were spectacular.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LFTr7HSvoFc/TizofpWtWoI/AAAAAAAACnA/bxBSe9gB3mo/s1600/IMG_4327.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LFTr7HSvoFc/TizofpWtWoI/AAAAAAAACnA/bxBSe9gB3mo/s320/IMG_4327.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This little house is where the fuel (bird fat!) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">was stored back in the gas lamp burning days.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WUVDh_G-cQE/TizohnZ7YaI/AAAAAAAACnE/yKMtUgF9pRo/s1600/IMG_4328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WUVDh_G-cQE/TizohnZ7YaI/AAAAAAAACnE/yKMtUgF9pRo/s320/IMG_4328.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">One thousand plus prisms in 24 panels.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Amazingly gorgeous mechanics; made in France (a Fresnel lens).</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tCCDk4mqDTA/TizoldnEKoI/AAAAAAAACnI/lhH43S8mJ4g/s1600/IMG_4329.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tCCDk4mqDTA/TizoldnEKoI/AAAAAAAACnI/lhH43S8mJ4g/s320/IMG_4329.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GOKIDpJTpSs/TizonUAJPRI/AAAAAAAACnM/E4szn1oYZkY/s1600/IMG_4330.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GOKIDpJTpSs/TizonUAJPRI/AAAAAAAACnM/E4szn1oYZkY/s320/IMG_4330.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5zfUba9UwQc/Tizop4zpH0I/AAAAAAAACnQ/-zjgVzkRRu0/s1600/IMG_4335.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5zfUba9UwQc/Tizop4zpH0I/AAAAAAAACnQ/-zjgVzkRRu0/s320/IMG_4335.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And now, for the ascent. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Really, there are way more than 308 steps,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">because they don't count the long ramps between flights. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">*poof*</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> But we made it! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">and *poof* again.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5hFhgS0ONHY/TiztTmB54YI/AAAAAAAACn0/u9-p6xjD3IM/s1600/northcoast.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5hFhgS0ONHY/TiztTmB54YI/AAAAAAAACn0/u9-p6xjD3IM/s320/northcoast.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I hope there is a beach house in my retirement.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">*<em>(vingt-neuf !!)</em></span></div>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-58119770352050352552011-07-12T11:24:00.000-07:002011-07-12T11:25:38.792-07:00kudos<div style="text-align: justify;">Hard to know who I'm more impressed with right now: the incredibly smart and hardworking MPs 1 & 2--or the incredibly smart and hardworking grad students in my life. Cheers all around.</div>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-7147423257471445502011-07-11T10:41:00.000-07:002011-07-11T10:41:15.873-07:00progress<div style="text-align: justify;">My brother and I have been frustrated and worried because my mom (since we moved her into her assisted living facility in mid-May) hasn't been joining the other residents down in the dining room for meals. Instead, she's been isolating herself in her room and eating there, and missing out therefore on social opportunities that will improve her mental health. Whenever one of us visits, the staff will inevitably remark on the fact that she doesn't come out of her room. Yesterday she told me that she went down for televised church services and that she's been going down for dinner (not sure about the other meals). This makes me SO happy. And I can hear the improvement in her voice. Further, I had a conversation with her about her house. She tends to worry about maintenance issues constantly (hello!, she deferred it for 11 years--why worry now?), but anyhow--when she said we need to call termite people to spray so the house doesn't "fall down," I gently suggested that this was a waste of her money (like fixing the roof in any permanent way). I told her we need to clear the house out and sell it, so she can bank the money. She actually agrees (although my brother and I notice that she tends to say one thing to one of us and another to the other; nothing new there). But, she seems truly to be on board with this. I told her Spring Break would be the first opportunity to really get in there and go through stuff room by room. She wants to go and sit in the driveway while we do this. I had to give her some hope that this might happen and said we'd see after talking to her doctors, etc. She ended the conversation with "and now Santa Claus, can you buy me some more blouses and a skirt or new pants? I can't wear the same things down there [dining room] every week!" Some things never change. Looking forward to seeing MP2 in July/August! MP1will be in Texas residence by August 1. Time flies.</div>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2712694528633978552.post-88151136226811575752011-06-30T09:34:00.000-07:002011-06-30T09:34:05.842-07:00always trust your intuition <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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</tbody></table>auto ethnographerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05427594814362309579noreply@blogger.com3