Updated Saturday evening: My son texted me to say he’d enjoyed this post, but he thought I should tag the photos: #nofilter. And he’s probably right — most of you might have assumed some Photoshopping was used here (unless you recognize my low level of techi-ness). These photos are all strictly Mother Nature’s doing. My Nikon just recorded what it “saw.” Aren’t the saturated colours amazing?
I have a few posts lined up, but they need more than a few minutes to finish, and this morning’s glorious sunrise woke me up to a huge stack of papers that must get marked this weekend. Starting ten minutes ago.
Plus we both know that I’ve spilled enough words here this week. And the sunrise’s glory gives us both some breathing space.
If you’re so inclined, and haven’t had time yet, you could mosey through my posts on Sheryl Sandberg’s Lean In — the reader comments are worth digging into, really! And in between my marking, I’m writing a follow-up post, the first of several.
Not so long ago, I wrote this piece on memories of childhood triggered by a recent road trip. I was pleased with the post, and if you haven’t read it yet, I’d be happy if you stopped by there.
There are also numerous What I Wore posts to browse — I’ve generally tried to put these in the context of Why or When or Where I Wore, partly to justify the outfit posts after my pondering the phenomenon of Women of a Certain Age Posting WIW in this post (which I’ve been meaning to follow up on, but somehow haven’t found the time yet.
For now, I’ll leave you to wander while I head to my table with a green marking pen and a too-large bunch of not-quite-MLA/APA/Chicago-formatted papers.
And one last sunrise photo — this one from yesterday morning. Isn’t it wonderful what a different palette it offered from this morning’s? This beauty, these variations on a theme, day after day. . .
Just there for us to see . . .
Gorgeous!
I am always impressed by your ability to keep your blog posts flowing while you manage a busy career….and grandparent, attend the Opera, travel, knit, run, read, and look stylish.
Enjoy your weekend mater.
Thanks, L. It's a question of addiction, the blog posting, as you will know well yourself. Enjoy your weekend as well — looks as if we're going to have a wet one.
I just returned Lean In to my trainer this morning and her next client had heard that Sandberg was condescending. I really didn't find her tone off-putting, did you? You are amazing in that your regular marking pile sounds formidable. So many of my teacher friends claim that they have no time to read during the school year. Life without reading would indeed be dull! Your sunrise looks so beautiful. I find that I wake as there is a lovely pink tinge to the sky. Happy week-end.
I didn't find her tone condescending, no, but I seem to have come to the book with much less awareness than many about Sandberg in the public sphere. . . It might also be easy to see her as condescending just because of her position (not to mention her intelligence and education!)
As an inveterate reader from childhood, I'm astounded to hear many who no longer can find time for reading. I can't do as much during my teaching term, to be sure, but I guess I'm too deeply addicted to stop. I sometimes think it's not just the content, but many, many elements of the process that have soothed me from my earliest days.
Happy weekend to you as well!
Variations on a theme – isn't some of the best music made up of these? Oh, that formatting! Why don't they teach it in high school? Knowing the basics would give first year students a head start. Sunrise here, over the Olympic Mountains as seen from a corner of our bedroom, was pinky orange, too – methinks that means rain is coming.
Have the best weekend possible with the marking pile.
Yes! There is so much beautiful music that takes a Variations on a Theme approach.
And I do think that high school students could learn about formatting their papers — if not the particulars of any one style, then just the notion that it WILL matter to attend to details and get it right. They end up having a few shocks in the first term — and for some of them, that can be enough to get in the way of engaging in academic life.
Beautiful.
I miss the ocean.
I'll enjoy it extra just for you, 'kay?
So glad you have taken a breather… Your recent posts have been so pertinent that I have been on the point of responding each time but, being rather slow to formulate my thoughts, by the time I have got them into shape and ready to put metaphorical pen to paper, I find there's another excellent post from you and I've missed the moment.
So be assured that I have been reading and nodding along with you. Yes, I wanted to shout when you wrote about the healing power of green surroundings; too right, when you talked about the no longer so fascinating lady mags; I spotted that too, when you showed us the pavement in Barcelona; dash it all, if only I'd known about Nice Things shop in Angers before I went there. And so on (and thank you for your tip on boots and skirts – I've been out and about getting my eye in)
In a recent post you've talked about leaning in. In another, you asked what we were doing at the weekend. let me combine the two and pitch in my four pennyworth. First of all, I haven't read Sandberg. It's not that I am avoiding it – if someone handed it to me I would read it – but it's not on my Amazon wish list right now. I must confess that I am not entirely sure if I quite understand what she means by leaning in, as sometimes these phrases cross the Atlantic faster than their meanings, so apologies if I'm off piste here. Yesterday my husband was recounting a conversation he had had with one of his female colleagues (he works in a profession where men predominate at senior levels. I'm also a member of this profession but I no longer practise). Mentioning that his wife – me – is a full time student, Ms X remarked that it was interesting that none of the other partners' wives did anything either. What? He thought she had meant that the wives don't have careers, he explained. Well, this is one great big can of worms so I'm going to keep the lid firmly shut. I'm only going to cite Ms X as the antithesis of a leaner in and invite you to ponder why women waste time putting each other down when we've already got men to do it for us. Until women can get over this career/non-career path divide then it's divide and rule. That, to my mind, is the big unspoken issue in feminism.
And on a happier note – since you asked, last Saturday night I took part in a charity midnight walk in aid of a local hospice. 1200 women turned out to walk the city by night, supported by a small army of volunteer marshalls to keep us safe and cheer us on. Raising money to finance a hospice that us lucky ones hope we'll never need, isn't that what leaning in is all about?
I so appreciate you taking the time to give this feedback. It's true that I've been cramming the posts in — not sure what that's about, but so much bubbles up!
That walk sounds like a wonderful opportunity for some female solidarity, sorority, in a really good cause. Much better to focus on than dividing ourselves, criticizing each other, when we might rather be trying to borrow ideas across the lines. I may completely be bending Sandberg's figurative expression to suit myself, but I must say I'd rather do that than continue what seems to me a corrosive relationship across the career/non-career divide. . . because you're spot on, that is a huge unspoken issue, and I suspect it will become more troublesome as our daughters make choices we didn't. . . .
I catch a slightly more easterly view of those western views, also still spectacular and perhaps filtered a bit more through the lens of noxious fog suspended over the city. Beautiful to look at if not breathe in.
I'm a voracious reader. If books were crumbs I'd be suffocating in bed. I tend to stay away from those what if, you/we should, how about, let's all try, get rich, be fabulous books, and ride on the opinions of others' takes on them. So lazy I am.
You dazzle with your time management skills and blog posts. I enjoy reading your thoughts on Issues and the comments. Thanks for that.
PS I'm referring to sunsets, not sunrises. I don't catch any sunrises. Gaaa.
Yes, I'm standing with my back to the west, looking east at the sunrise. We only catch the reflections of sunset. . . Suffocating under the weight of books myself. The book wouldn't have been my choice, but I'm glad I read it as it's helped me formulate some recognitions of where I'm at now, particularly vis-a-vis my daughters. More on that in a later post. You've been warned. 😉