Pronoia: Not all it is cracked up to be, and everything I ever wanted.

 You know those days when everything seems to be in a fog, not in focus?  You know it's out there, you can make it out, but it is not as clear as you would like.  Yep, today.  It actually dawned clear and sunny here, and my mood matched the weather first thing this morning.

 And then, there you are, standing on a cliff, looking at the drop, saying "huh?".

 There is a part of you that just wants to withdraw, crawl back in the safety of the nest.  After all, you don't always get what you want out here.

 And then, hope emerges again.  We pick it up and go on.  After all, what else is there to do unless we crawl back into that fox hole and lie in the dark?  When you are a pronoid, you just can't hang out in the dark very long.

 So, sometimes while it is best to let sleeping seals lie undisturbed, there are times...

...it is best to move on toward the flowers blooming in the rocks and volcanic ashes, showing that once again, we are indomitable.  No matter that we are disappointed, we will rise up, and do it anyway, what ever it takes.

Snowy drive to Mound Bayou

Yesterday morning began with snow--it was falling fairly fast by 8 when we met for the drive to Mound Bayou.  It was the first meeting for the Taborian Hospital renovation project--the Taborian Urgent Care Clinic.   It was Chris' first trip to the Delta, and it was quite striking with the snow covering the fields--the miles and miles of fields on either side of highway 6 heading towards Clarksdale.

I pointed out the Taborian as we drove past and made the turn to the city hall.  Chris remarked that he thought he would be able to find his way to Mound Bayou alone now--only 2 turns required.  Drive straight to Clarksdale, turn left, drive straight to Mound Bayou, turn left.  It was almost like "going home" as I saw the people I have come to know over the past few months.

I heard the distinct difference in how people from there pronounce the name of the town--Mound Bye-yah. How could I have missed that all these times?  Perhaps it was just because we were all gathered in a room, and people were saying Mound Bayou a lot!  For obvious reasons, I won't talk about the particulars of the meeting regarding the project itself.  The main purpose was to introduce ourselves to each other, identify what we brought to the project, and what we needed, and to lay out the plans for the future.  It was exactly the kind of meeting I love--expertly facilitated by the project director.  This is going to be such great fun over the next year!

Every time I think about my work being fun, it reminds me of the time Gigi and I were doing a workshop for NASW on community building.  It was clear that the group was enjoying the workshop, and that we accomplished our intended purpose in terms of their learning.  One participant wrote on our evaluations, however, "You two need to get serious and stop having so much fun."  We laughed.  Life is hard enough as it is, so let's make it an even bigger drag?

And on that note, it's time for me to go "have some fun" at my day job.  I've lolly-gagged long enough this sunny morning and I need to get to the rip-roaring jolly good time of grading some more papers.

Things I have, things I wish I had, and things I don't need.

While I was in Atlanta last month, I found a new-to-me South African wine: Doolhof's (out of Paarl) Dark Lady of the Labyrinth Dark Pinotage.  Smooth, silky tannins with a smoky finish.  I wish I had some.

While I was looking for new trays after Kate knocked my other ones off the counter and broke them, I found something I've been wanting: a cast iron teapot.  It keeps the tea hot enough to last through the pot, and one thing I don't like is cold tea unless it is the kind with ice in it.

I have a spiffy autographed poster of the James Pirkle Blues Band.  I wish I had a frame for it, and a CD of my favorite James Pirkle Blues Band songs.

I have two tea cup & saucer sets of this great guinea pattern that I bought on my last South Africa trip.  I wish I had an entire set of dishes in the pattern.  But, enough of my petty wants.

I drove down to Water Valley Saturday morning to the BTC Old Fashioned Grocery Store.  Just as I pulled into Main Street, I noted the line-up for the Christmas parade.  Oops.  I took a side road, and snaked in and out until I could reach the back of the store a half a block away and walk up to the front door.  The parade was just beginning and from the announcer:

Leading off our parade, and just fresh off a bear hunt, Col. Reb, representing the Col. Reb Political Action Committee.

Huh?  Will these people just never give it a rest?  (Answer: no, apparently they won't, but more on that in a minute.)

I did my shopping for some more of the yummy local grass-fed beef, local pork chops, fresh bread, Mountain Valley sparking spring water, and long-leaf tea.  My check-out total was a whopping $130.  That's not news these days; I spend close to that or more on every trip to Kroger these days for less.  I had 6 steaks, 2 packages of stew meat, 6 pork chops, and 4 chicken breasts, Cora's home-made lasagna, 2 large packages of cheese, pepper corns, 2 bags of tea, a bag of Eduardo's whole wheat linguini, butter, and 2 loaves of fresh bread.  I can guarantee I would not have had that much meat, let alone locally-raised and hormone-free meat, at the supermarket for that amount of money.

Back home, I looked up the Col. Reb PAC.  I think I vaguely remember this from the summer, but apparently, the sole mission of the CRPAC is to introduce legislation to amend the Mississippi state constitution to require Col. Reb be declared the sole official, permanent mascot of the University of Mississippi, and require he be a visible presence at all athletic events, and require his image be on every thing from Ole Miss that has the University name on it.

Really.  I could not make up something like this. So, here we are with the highest teenage pregnancy rate, highest infant mortality rate, highest poverty rate, highest obesity rate, lowest academic performance at reading and math in the nation, poor performing public schools, lack of employment, and inadequate housing, and people want to change the constitution to require the reinstatement of a mascot who until 1979 was not even the mascot.

Whitney Young, where are you?  If ever we needed the great communicator and the great negotiator, it's now.  Something tells me even Whitney Young would have had a tough time with this one.

End of the Semester: You've got a friend in me.

Yesterday marked the end of the fall semester.  Nothing left but finals next week, finishing up the administrative tasks, and then a couple of weeks of break until the January class in Mound Bayou.  I'll be traveling to Mound Bayou Wednesday for a meeting about the grant that was recently awarded to restore the Taborian Hospital and develop the Taborian Urgent Care Clinic.  Although there have been some highlights along the way, like the Taborian news, it has also been a semester of looking for direction, and everywhere we needed to go seemed a long way off.

  

There have been a lot of days where we felt like we were just hanging on.  The overloads, the efforts on the research and grants, the travel, the never-ending preparations for class, new standards soon to be implemented.  Every once in a while someone mentions what an "easy" job I have.  I usually just smile and say I am fortunate to do something I love.  They see the break at the end of the semester, or spring break, but they don't see the hours at night grading papers or preparing for class, the weekends I spend on class prep or writing for research or some other administrative requirement for which there is no time during the day.  Still, I am not complaining: I am fortunate, and I know it.  While there have certainly been bumps in the road (and I've been on it a while, so that's a lot of bumps), it's been a great journey.  As Louis L'amour put it:

The trail is the thing, not the end of the trail.  Travel too fast, and you miss all you are traveling for. (Ride the Dark Trail, 1984).

I spent well over 8 hours this week (I know, that is a lot of time for someone who does not have much of it this time of year) putting together a movie that lasted 8 minutes.  It was for my last class of the semester, the class on social work practice with groups.  This class has been one of the challenging ones, and I have struggled, and they have struggled.  This week, though, as each group did their presentation on the group project (they present on how their group developed the intervention presented in the community), I see that they have learned much more than perhaps the rest of the semester has shown and I shared that with them.

There were a lot of "bumps in the road" in our work with Riverside this semester, and we were really unable to do what we usually do.  We did manage 3 interventions, and each of them was well-received as always by the community members, but we did not get to do our final interventions nor terminate with the community for this semester.  It was disappointing to the students, and I imagine, to the community.  I have had thoughts that due to all the changes from when we first started, perhaps this semester has signaled that it is time to terminate not just for the semester, but perhaps, for the project itself.

 I'm not certain of all of my emotions or thoughts behind the decision to make the slideshow, but I selected from the hundreds of photographs I have of our work there for 5 years--those that I thought illustrated the essence of our work: the variety of activities, the many community members, both parents and children, the Ole Miss students, the Ole Miss and community volunteers who have joined us from time to time--and set them to the music of "You've got a friend in me."  Eight minutes to show 5 years.

 The classroom was dark; there was no texting or talking going on for a change.  When it was over, I stood up, and my emotion was evident.  I said I thought I might be about to cry.  A student with tears in her eyes, said go ahead, so were they.  I looked around the room, and there were several students who were visibly emotional.  In a voice that was shaking, I said,

I do not have a prepared speech.  But you all have no idea what you have done in this community in the last 5 years.

 One asked, "So, are you going to continue the project?  Are you going to go back?"

Back to the Campus: Old Chemistry and Pharmacy Building

It is hard to believe a week has gone by so quickly.  I always way underestimate how much time it is going to take me to do what I have planned in my time off.  There really was no "time off" this week as I spent almost every waking moment working on a grant proposal that is due tomorrow.

  The Old Chemistry & Pharmacy Building, renamed Brevard Hall this year, is one of the buildings in the Historic Lyceum Circle.  It was completed in 1923, and was 45,000 square feet.  Pharmacy was housed on the third floor until 1969 when they moved to their new building, Faser Hall.  Chemistry remained in the building until 1977, and currently, it is used by the School of Engineering since the renovation.

 The application for the National Register of Historic Places, completed by Gene Ford, Architectural Historian from the University of Alabama, described the building:

Third story features a rusticated stone parapet; 8/8 and 9/9 double-hung sash windows...

Second floor facade has casement and 12/12 double-hung sash windows...the two-story projections at each end of the building contain quoins and groups of 8/8 windows... 

 First floor has a double-leaf door with sidelights and a transom, 12/12 double-hung sahs windows, Neoclassical portico...

During the riots, on September 30, 1962, students broke into the building and made Molotov cocktail devices with which to bomb the federal vehicles surrounding the Circle.  I do confess that I find it of interest that I can learn that information in the historic nomination, but not who was the architect for the building.

Meanwhile, winter has arrived in Mississippi, with cold and rain today, and the chance of snow and sleet tomorrow.  This is the final week of the semester, and the presentation of projects and wrapping it all up before the finals.  My best guess is that the few weeks I have off before teaching the January Wintersession course in Mound Bayou will fly by, as well.  I'll be on the road to Texas one of those weeks, and checking in from my favorite corner in the United Grocery Deli.  I also plan a stop in Jacksboro to check on the status of the courthouse renovation, and a day trip up to Throckmorton, where word has it they restored the original cupola to the courthouse.

But for now, it's back to the proposal and the last cup of Harney & Sons Earl Grey tea, brewed long-leaf in the pot.  Maybe after that, a nap is in order.

Road Trip: Franklin, Tennessee and parts thereabouts

 This has been a really long day...really, really long...J had a followup appointment with his new doctor in Franklin, Tennessee, which is about 4 1/2 hours from here.  He was dreading the drive up and back, and because I was off, I had asked if he wanted me to go with him to help drive.  I squelched the urge to take the camera, given that we had a mission and he is a lot like my dad in that regard: drive til you get there, do what you need to do, and drive til you get home.  I really do credit Rand with teaching me to enjoy the journey as much as the destination.  I made do with all the sights and the mental images and the plans for a future road trip just for fun.  I worked a bit on my research proposal, and we listened to some of his music, and occasionally talked, and even laughed.

 Just out of Franklin, we approached this "bridge" and wondered about it.  I tried looking it up on the iPhone, but no luck.  We had to drive through downtown Franklin to get to the doctor's office, and I was pretty much gaga--beautiful buildings, a wonderful old theater, and me just itching to go back for a weekend.  I allowed as how I might rather live there than in Oxford.

If that was not enough (the gorgeous downtown) 1/2 block from the doc's office is a Whole Foods.  "Wow, they have a Whole Foods!  I can go shopping for Thanksgiving dinner while you are seeing the doctor!"  Do you really think food will keep the 4 1/2 hours for the trip back home?  No, but did I mention that I love Whole Foods?  When I was doing graduate work on my PhD at UTArlington, one of the best perks was the opportunity to run over to Dallas to the Whole Foods on those days I finished early and had a few hours to spare before the drive home, or the days I had to be in Oak Cliff--Gateway to Dallas--for my research practicum, and it was not even out of the way to zip over.

It was another beautiful drive back to the Interstate, and we learned that the "bridge" was the Natchez Park Traceway.  That made sense for why there was not an entrance/exit ramp.  Not too long after we made the I-40, I wanted a quick exit to the McDonald's and grab a Coke.  As I pulled into the lot, I noted an SUV pulling a boat, parked across ALL 3 Handicapped spaces by the door.  I said I thought I would just stop in front of him, but J said "please don't make a scene."  Luck was on my side, and the non-handicapped space directly in front of the vehicle (pictured below) was open.  I pulled in.  There was no way he could move until I did.

I pulled out my handicapped parking tag, and my camera, and had intentions of going over and explaining to the person that he was perhaps not realizing the significance of his actions about blocking reasonable access to the building, and would he be so kind as to move?  J said again, "Please, don't make a scene; I just want to get home."  I settled for backing out, taking a photo of the person who walked up to confront him, and letting it go.  Trust me, I did not want to let it go.  If I had been alone, I am pretty sure I would have blocked access, if it meant lying down in front of his SUV and chancing getting run over.  Perhaps this is the sort of "personal" thing that starts a social movement.  I remember when my dad said the first time he had to park behind a building and wheel my niece to the back door of a public building how he finally understood about access.

Back on the Interstate, and deeply regretting the choice to exit, we were stuck in bumper-to-bumper and at times, dead standstill traffic, for no reason we could discern.  Law enforcement was on the side of the road--which always tends to slow things down--but we saw no wrecks or other reasons to delay traffic.  We finally opted thanks to Google maps, iPhones, and Nuvi, to exit and took a back road.  That was both good and bad:  good, it got us off the stand-still Interstate; bad, as we topped a hill on 2-lane traffic, we are approached head-on by a car in our lane who has passed on a hill in a no-passing lane, at night, in the dark.  I braked and swerved right and he or she sped up and swerved in front of the car being passed.  Let me just say that at that moment, J said, "I am glad you came with me today."  So was I.

So, getting home 2 hours later than planned, and my unwillingness to go to the grocery store then, and the distinct possibility that it would have been pointless at 9 pm the night before Thanksgiving anyway, we very well might be having "pantry staples" for dinner tomorrow.

You know what I am thankful for in spite of this?  That J is better, this doctor is interested and caring, we made it safely home, and even if it is not special, we will eat tomorrow.

George Peabody Building

 The George Peabody Education Fund  enabled the construction of the Education Building, dedicated in 1912.  It housed the School of Education until 1956 when it became home to psychology.  The building was used to house students for a short period following World War I.

 The nomination of the Lyceum-Circle for national historic district said this of the building:

...alludes to Classical designs with its pediment, entablature, and four fluted Ionic columns..wrap-around stone parapet encircles the top of the brick building...