tamarjacobson

Quote of the day:

No matter what our troubles, when the earth turns on its axis one more time and we see what appears to be the sun rising, I feel it’s the universe calling for a change in ourselves. You have one more day. Rise with it! Oprah Winfrey

Yesterday I opened the door of my new office. It was time to unpack my boxes of books and hang pictures on the wall. Feeling a bit anxious about the work that awaited me, I must admit I was a bit reluctant even though T. was standing right beside me armed with a fully prepared tool box.

After switching on the light and becoming acquainted with the freshly painted walls of my new digs, I noticed a burgundy colored paper bag sitting in front of the computer screen. Attached to it was a note with "Welcome!" written as clearly as could be. "First things first," I thought to myself, as I opened the bag to find a large college mug, emblem on the side, ready for my first cup of coffee. I could not believe that the Department Chair had taken the trouble to leave me a surprise gift before he headed out for his vacation. Welcoming indeed!

All of a sudden I had all kinds of energy and before we knew it, the office was up and running, posters and pictures all measured, lined up and hanging just right … just the way T. loves to do things. Books all in rows on the shelf.

Such a small act of kindness, but one that meant so much to me. It reminded me of my first day at my last job when I reached into my mailbox and found a card nestling there welcomely. It had come all the way from England, from a blogger friend who had taken the trouble, unbeknown to me, to find out the address, greet me, and wish me luck first thing, somehow knowing how fearful and excited I truly was.

I switched out the light and closed the door breathing a sigh of relief. "it will be all right," I thought, "Everything will be all right."

Now I cannot wait to return to work. New office, computer, pictures on the wall, books all in rows, and … a fine new coffee mug waiting right there to welcome me.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY THOROUGHLY MODERN MILLIE

Gee I enjoyed your interview …

… I want to be you when I’m big.

Quotes of the day:

A woman can’t change the world by destroying herself. Bumper sticker (Thanks, Anya)

When people die, our sadness is never for them, but for ourselves; our loss of their love, their companionship and the qualities that made them special to us. Ronni Bennett

“The tahini here is excellent. Have you ever tried the tahini from Trader Joe’s?” Citizen of the Month

"If there is a draft, all those Senators and Congress people, and certainly the Administration folks – well, their children better be drafted first. Let them feel what it’s like!" She says. tamarika, August 15, 2005

The spider and I had our own agendas. Hers was aesthetic in its simplicity; mine, in the chronically complex human way, involved catching a train. Pure Land Mountain

I have been looking back to blog posts from last year around this time. Did I get the idea from Tom Shugart?

As I read them I recall cold, lonely feelings of trepidation bordering almost on terror! I realize that I have come a long way since then. Even though I head out to a new position (once again!), somehow I feel more relaxed, fatalistic, or accepting about it.

What will be, will be.

I wonder what has taken place within me between then and now.

• Firstly, I survived full-time academia! I even did well. I saw what it was all about. Meetings, teaching, advising, grading, commuting, being evaluated … so … I can do it again.
• Second, I survived working through my rage and heart break about losses on many different levels.
• Losing: my home, professional life, and friends in Buffalo; my brother and illusions about family; Mar-Mar; Molly; my sense that I am immortal, and that all things can pass; my youth, as I realize that, yes indeed, I am approaching 60; my son as he becomes a man – his own person; and, losing my confidence – over and over again.
• Raging: at T. for bringing me to Philadelphia; my brother and illusions about family; and reality of aging.

I look over the list and think about all the pain that has passed inside and through me. My oh my, it was stormy indeed. Have those dark clouds actually moved on?

I am hesitant, bowing my head through the small opening as, once more, I stumble out of my cave.

Blinking now, my eyes adjust to the light. It is not bright and passionate. This time the light seems soft and comforting … safe … even a little peaceful.

I wonder … have I finally reached stage five?

Oh, and one more thing, lest I forget.

I could never have done this (without going crazy, I mean) without the blog, and, which is more to the point, all of your cyber support out there.

Even if you did not comment – you were felt.

You know who you are!

Celebration. Festschrift for Steve Brown. And, yes indeed, he was surprised. Stories were shared and there I was surrounded by mathematicians and thinking, "How did I come to be included in such an interesting crowd! Little old me born far away in Bulawayo. And now here I am in Buffalo, well, in fact, Port Colborne, sipping wine in the company of mathematics geniuses."

How did I come to be included?

A few years ago I was invited to contribute a chapter in this fine book celebrating my dissertation advisor’s scholarly life. How honored I was, especially since most of the book is devoted to his teachings about mathematics. And here it was, the finished product. Many of us gathered to surprise Steve in Buffalo. We came from Vermont, Minnesota and Pennsylvania. Old friends joined in the festivities and a splendid time was had by all!

All that wonderful time soaking in old friends, starved for their company, eating good food, walking and talking, exposing my soul and sharing ancient histories … 

Alone again.

Ho hum … and now, back to the grind … syllabus preparation for the new semester, perhaps a root canal treatment, plant watering, laundry … and so it goes.

Ada calls to play with her new mouse … am home again.

Today I am shuffling off to Buffalo once again.

Just for a few days.

To soak in a few dear friends, walk in my old park, and participate in a surprise party for …

… well, I just can’t say …

… because it is a surprise, you see.

And who knows? Perhaps the person we want to surprise might just stumble on this blog. Because life has a way of surprising us when we least expect it.

So you will just have to wait until I get back to hear about it …

… that is, if you are at all interested.

So, cheerio, I’ll be back soon.

What can I say?

My mind and heart is in a turmoil with the complexity of the global situation. After all, close family members have just been sent into Lebanon, or are helping out children in bomb shelters in Kiryat Shmona where katyushas fall overhead. My adolescence was affected by affiliation with Habonim, and for most of my life, all my political views were heavily influenced by a former long-time editor of the New Left Review.

It is perhaps only the last 10 years or so, that I started to grasp I have a mind of my own. I even remember the moment. I was traveling on a train bound for Albany from Buffalo on some early childhood professional business. I gazed out the window and there it was – the realization: "Hey! I can think for myself!"

Since then I have been developing my own stand.

As I try to write about all of this, I falter, stammer and stutter. I become emotional and confused. Words fail me … and then along comes Neilochka, and writes almost exactly how I am thinking about things …

… I say almost because he is he with all his life experiences, and I am me with all of mine.

Quote of the day:

My life was so totally different four years ago.  Kalilily Time (Thanks, Tom Shugart)

This could quite easily be turned into a meme: how has your life changed in the last four years? or something like that.

But, yes, as you can imagine, it immediately had me thinking … now let me see …

Four years ago I was …

• 53
• Director
• Adjunct instructor
• Writing my book
• Walking across the English Moors
• Thinner
• Danny was my editor
• Knew absolutely nothing about blogging
• Living in Buffalo
• Walking daily in Delaware Park
• Mourning Charlie
• Playing with Molly
• Dancing with Mar-Mar
• President
• Longing to be a full-time professor
• Much less time on my hands
• A work-a-holic

And, so much less aware than I am now …

Consider yourself tagged … only if you are so inclined.

The yard used to belong to Molly. It was clearly her domain. I know this now because since her death, there seems to be some kind of party going on outside. The butterfly bushes are full to bursting with all colors, shapes and sizes of butterflies. The birdbath has goldfinches, robins, doves, titmouse, cardinals, blue jays, cat birds, chickadees, and who knows who else drinking, bathing, splashing, singing and calling out to one another, "Hey! Bring the beer!"

Ada and I sit on the porch and watch as hummingbirds approach their feeder. First they drop down really low and observe us up close and personal. Then, with a strange little tweet, they drink the sweetened elixir I prepared for them before flying off high into the surrounding trees with an excited squeal. Ada tried to chase down one of the cicadas that was hopping in the hydrangea bush. But she really does not like to exert herself that much and after about two minutes of figuring it out she returned inside the house to have a snack.

Sometimes I call out to the squirrels dancing on the porch, "Hey! This is Molly’s place! What’s the matter with you?" They look at me and continue to jive, scuttling out to the flower beds to dig for bulbs. Ada and I look on silently. Tears roll down my cheeks as I remember Molly jumping two feet off the ground to bring down a huge yellow butterfly. She looked as free as could be with the sunlight shining on her ginger coat. I walk over to the spot under the trees at the end of garden path where I buried her ashes. The piece of coreopsis I transplanted over her grave is blooming and I have a feeling, with all the goings on lately, that the chipmunks probably burrow under there to torment her soul. "Hi Molly," I whisper under my breath. "There is complete animal chaos going on in our yard, sweet kitty. I don’t know what you’d think about it all, sweetheart."

Ada jumps onto my lap and I caress her furry body with long, firm strokes as we watch the frivolities of all the little critters outside. As I look up I see a doe stroll over to the bird feeder. A little further away stand two smaller deer – her children. It feels like a Disneyland party. Am just waiting for Ada to break into song as the hummingbird hovers down low once again to check her out.

Instead, Ada yawns. A large, wide yawn. She jumps off my lap onto the porch, and then, rolling onto her side, stretches her right paw out in front and sets about basking lazily in the afternoon sun.

Quote of the day:

How many of us are reading each other any more anyway? Frank Paynter

Well, I must say, FP got me thinking about that (but then he always gets me thinking about something).

And Winston got me thinking about it too …

… oh well …. Whatever!