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Of Many Things
Driving to Seattle.
There's going to be snow in the Snoqualmie Pass. Earlier today, it was clear. Already, it is slushy with snow coming down.
I'm considering an alternate route through Portland. Or getting snow chains. I think there's a local chain that lets you buy them and return them for a full refund if unused. That would be a comfort to have them available, if necessary.
In Seattle, Terence and I will team up to play some quiz bowl. With Joe. Everybody else from Boise State who was to come dropped out. (Schoolwork, sick, and parents forbidding travel in this weather.)
32 years ago. Which makes me about the same age as some of those kids in this video.
Can you believe Sesame Street is turning 40?
Earlier this semester, at church, I heard somebody offer an intention for "everybody who has nobody to pray for them" or something like that. It amused me thoroughly. (I might already have mentioned this in my livejournal, I suspect.)
I subbed for another instructor today. He was sick, and asked the math department yesterday for somebody to take his class.
Besides the fact that I was 2 hours early for the class (I sat through a biochem lecture because that class was small and the professor didn't mind, but the next class--the one I thought I was subbing for--turned out to be a philosophy class, so I left and came back an hour later when the class I was subbing for actually started), it went well. Except, well, I think there were 11 people in the class. An hour after that ended, my class started, and I counted about 25 or so people in my class. Big difference! I had been a bit disturbed that I was getting about 67% attendance in class (25 or so out of 40). It seemed kind of small. Until now. His class cap is the same as mine (well, one class--the other I increased from 40 to 43), but he's getting 11 students. I don't know if this is because he drove them all out of class the first week or because they all gave up or just don't attend class. (As an afterthought, I probably had 11 people in my room a good 20 or 25 minutes before class started. Many of them were finishing a test, but students come early to ask for help with homework, or just because it's a place to sit down and get work done.)
Even more, after just one lecture, one of those students came up to me and asked me if I were teaching Math 160 because he liked my teaching style.
Ego boost. :)
It's Halloween week. That means another Frazz Caulfield literary Halloween series.
Monday:
Tuesday:
In other news, ACF Fall is this weekend. I'm encouraging teams to come in costume, with a special prize for anybody who dresses up as an answer.
There's half a bagel in a bush outside my window.
A squirrel had taken it there to start eating, but spotted me watching it through the window, and must have thought me up to no good, so it took off, leaving the bagel behind.
There's a football game happening tonight.
It's going to be played on a blue field, as football was meant to be played on. (Nobody knew this until about 25 years ago, though.)
It should be a good game. If you like football, you might want to tune in. (It should be nationally broadcast on ESPN, with a 9:15 PM kickoff time.) I'll be just getting out of class, so somebody else will have to watch the beginning of the game for me. And if you're going to do that, you might as well tune in for the whole game.
My once-a-year haircut, delayed a year:
( Before and After )
Paula took this picture of me in the spring:
( Hot Spring )
Paula left today, and I promptly slept for about 6 hours when I got back home.
Man, having people around just wears me out!
(This doesn't mean don't come visit. It just means that while I'm happy to see you come, I'm happy when you're gone, too. I'm just always happy, I guess.)
She flew in Thursday night. It rained. It rained all day Friday. It rained Saturday morning, and then it cleared up, and then it rained again when we drove somewhere. Not typical Idaho weather! Because of the rain on Friday, we didn't go anywhere. Without rain, I'd have gone up into the mountains and gone hiking or something (or maybe even camping, but I'd have to have found an extra sleeping bag). Hiking in the rain isn't pleasant, and camping in the rain is even worse. (And I checked weather reports--it was raining everywhere within a few hours.) So, instead, we walked around Boise. Me in my yellow poncho and her with a red umbrella. (Newly bought; I left my only umbrella in the library the first summer I was here, and never needed to get another.) We saw Julie and Julia and then a birthday pizza. With potatoes, natch.
Yesterday, I tried to find the driest place within a few hour drive. I settled on Craters of the Moon--good choice, because while we drove through some heavy downpours on the way there, we barely got a sprinkle there. Still, by the time we got there, it was afternoon, so we didn't have long to spend. I also had checked my "Hot Springs of the Northwest" book I had bought last week when Maureen and Terence visited. I am thoroughly amused by hot springs. The guide book has, for each spring, the dress code. "Swimsuits recommended. First come, first served. (I'm not exactly sure what that means.) Swimsuits suggested when standing up. Skinny dipping after dark." Apparently, there's a lot of people going nude into the springs. In fact, when we picked up the Scene, there was a review of some horror movie that occurs during a honeymoon in Hawaii, and while they printed a picture from the movie, the caption for it was more local--"No way, the hot springs are taken again? By naked dudes?" So, apparently, this is somewhat of a tradition. When Paula and I stopped by the hot spring on the way home, there were three Hispanic guys already there, with their cooler full of Coronas and a bag of chips. And swimsuits, fortunately. Paula and I, also with swimsuits on, got into the water. (It was nice and warm, but with a good bit of algae growing in it, and sharp volcanic rocks along the edge. This is probably why the book and suggested swimsuits.) The five of us were soaking in the spring (it was a pretty big spring--12 feet or so at its widest, and probably 20 feet or so in length, and 5+ feet deep) when we heard another car pull over. (The spring itself is sheltered by rocks so that people in the spring can't see the road and vice versa.) A family of 5 walked by. The father had a GPS and was looking for something. The yongest girl--probably about 2--first spotted us down below, and the rest studiously avoided looking at us. On their way back to their car, the mother completely shielded us from her view, holding her hand up beside her face so that she wouldn't catch a glimpse of whatever was down in the spring. I guess the stereotype of naked men in hot springs is pretty widespread. :) (I don't know what they were doing. My guess was that they were trying to do some geocaching or something. Maybe somebody thought it would be neat to put a cache near a spring so that people could not only find the cache, but the spring, too.)
Today, Mass and the Boise Fry Company. Then she left, and I slept.