tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52296058015285266862026-06-28T02:49:55.930-04:00Getting to the heart of what matters...and tales from my journeys there.jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.comBlogger620125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-78376614903063361062015-05-11T16:16:00.000-04:002015-05-11T16:16:54.322-04:00

Free Drinks on my way west Really? Already?

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-74224055650444239872015-05-10T21:06:00.001-04:002015-05-10T21:06:37.272-04:00

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-48252773110760942752015-05-09T12:17:00.000-04:002015-05-09T21:19:55.559-04:00

When you are overweight, you can't see or feel the difference when you lose a few pounds. The opposite is also true: you can't see or feel the difference when you gain a few. So--in my experience anyway-- you go back and forth, up and down a few pounds all the time. Down because you try, then back up because you can't really feel your effort so why bother? Going the distance? Too daunting a task

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-77723171798721829922015-04-21T20:47:00.001-04:002015-04-21T20:47:38.066-04:00

I think we are out of the woods, no snow flakes in sight. Finally. Mid-April. We didn't even get the tease week in March this year. Again. Obviously I'm a little frustrated and afraid to say the word that starts with sp and rhymes with ring, because here in New England we know Mother Nature is a special kind of Beotch. I mean lovely, wonderful, powerful. Perpetually PMS, super awesome beotch

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-75786795660628344682015-04-20T19:41:00.002-04:002015-04-20T20:47:12.410-04:00

In this day and age it is important to protect your identity whenever possible. Especially since a certain medical insurance company had a colossal breach, I might be slightly paranoid about it. Unfortunately, because my shredder jammed and I have yet to give in and buy a new one, I now have a copy paper box full of garbage to be shredded. It really is garbage, isn't it? Junk mail, credit card

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-78675374215019874782015-04-15T12:48:00.000-04:002015-04-15T16:21:07.682-04:00

I planned on getting more housecleaning done this April vacation--de-cluttering and catching up on overdue projects. I realize though, as I get ready to go out in the glorious sunshine and enjoy my first al fresco lunch of the season, I'm okay not giving my apartment that attention. I am giving myself that attention. I am an overdue project. I have de-cluttering to do. I have come a long way

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-83061295497654761612015-04-13T20:30:00.000-04:002015-04-13T22:14:36.396-04:00

In interviews I have seen Oprah ask famous people--not exactly in these words, but something akin: what would you tell your younger self?  Recently my friend Deanna asked me if I could give my younger self two words of wisdom, what would they be? I don't know if I can be interview-eloquent, nor do I feel I can limit myself to one, single two-word phrase. But I am going to try to come

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-50080500430722172092015-03-15T19:18:00.002-04:002015-04-12T22:16:54.092-04:00

There is a moment in my life I can recall more clearly than most others. Moreover, I remember how I felt, though I couldn’t really explain it well. It was an overwhelming feeling—not a premonition really, but one of knowing. It remains difficult to qualify. I was living in Boston, and on the T, on the green C line train between Coolidge Corner and Washington Square. I was riding alone. It was a

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-11865802499550469672015-03-10T19:15:00.000-04:002015-03-12T20:06:14.087-04:00

I go in and out of writing phases. Years and years ago (decades in fact--yikes!) my friend Tamara and I, both prolific journal keepers who became close during graduate school but ended up on separate coasts afterward, would share and exchange journals. At first we kept one journal that one of us would write in and hold on to for a couple of weeks or months, and then we would set a date and make

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-55823035433877409052015-02-02T22:35:00.001-05:002015-04-16T12:01:43.974-04:00

Despite braving the crowds on Sunday morning to have respectable Superbowl snacks on hand (for a party of one), I  could not keep myself away from the game long enough to make myself nachos last night. But boy, did I have a nice snow day lunch/dinner today. Go, Patriots!

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-89925954763220477232014-12-30T12:23:00.003-05:002014-12-30T12:41:16.553-05:00

Sunset at Torrey Pines Beach  The last month or so is a blur, every day a struggle to get to the next day. The goal?  A long-anticipated vacation in San Diego. In case there is any doubt, I am enjoying every moment. 

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-86867538722366815502014-11-18T18:56:00.000-05:002014-11-18T18:58:32.154-05:00

I am not a fan of the law that allows right on red. I have enough stress in my life. (See posts about teaching.)  I don't need the pressure of taking a right on red when I don't really have a good view to my left (especially on one particular turn I often make, where I am frankly shocked a right on red is even allowed), and the asshole impatient driver behind me is tooting his horn because I

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-87192077507608159512014-11-16T15:59:00.001-05:002014-11-16T15:59:53.904-05:00

When I started this blog, I was a single, forty-something woman navigating midlife as a teacher. Just a few times over the years that I have been blogging I tweaked my bio a tiny bit--just in case someone wanted to know who was writing and scrolled down to read About Me. Mainly I changed the number of years I have been teaching. The rest has stayed the same. Now, as I live out this last year

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-2460922802854100442014-11-13T20:42:00.001-05:002014-11-15T21:30:53.108-05:00

My friend Fran worries about me living alone. "What would happen if you got hurt?" she wondered. When I told her I would call 911, she persisted "but what if you couldn't?" From there another friend joked about wearing a Life Alert, and we all laughed.  I appreciate her concern. And I have wondered myself, but prefer not to dwell on the fact that I live alone and accidents happen--like the

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-83353316449543198482014-11-11T11:09:00.000-05:002014-11-11T12:12:25.112-05:00

I used to enjoy teaching. While it has never been easy, it was once more manageable. When not teaching class, I could plan and correct and give extra help to students, and still had time to stop by the teachers' lounge for a few moments of camaraderie, maybe a round of laughs with veteran teachers who shared their own embarassing classroom moments after I told mine, or a pep talk in which they

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-17936415142469069792014-11-01T14:20:00.001-04:002014-11-01T14:44:46.140-04:00

I am acutely aware that in my middle age the time between hot flashes gets shorter while the season between air conditioning and heat gets shorter too. A few years ago I ran air conditioning June through September. Then May through September. Then May through the first half of October. This year I cursed myself for not turning the air conditioning back on during the third week of October when it

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-68886994360993503292014-10-13T17:10:00.001-04:002014-10-13T17:11:51.160-04:00

It is always a good sign when I'm back in the kitchen being creative. When I'm back in the kitchen and exercising in some way, it's especially auspicious. (For the record, I love my new gym, I love having discovered/tapped into pool exercise this summer. Not only do I not dread it, but I look forward to it. And it makes me feel great!) Good choices lead to other good choices; positive begets

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-8798641998497740622014-09-14T09:37:00.001-04:002014-09-14T09:40:58.258-04:00

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-11242797618800086342014-09-07T11:30:00.000-04:002014-09-07T12:29:20.680-04:00

Last school year left me completely sapped. I saw a friend forced into retirement, while other colleagues feared for their jobs and most of us generally walked around shell-shocked. Stress was palpable. I lost someone close to me in early spring and didn't have a chance to grieve because I, too, feared for my job. While I tried to keep one step ahead, I realized that I don't want that kind of job

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-60092280720296641222014-07-23T10:29:00.001-04:002014-07-23T14:00:39.619-04:00

I am probably the only person over forty who does not have a Bucket List, although I'm not exactly sure why. I have not lived with wild abandon, so it's certainly not because there is nothing left for the list. Maybe because I don't have a burning desire to do things like bungee jump or skydive, I haven't taken the time to start a bucket list that in the end would likely be a list of places to

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-14745177746787122272014-07-16T12:14:00.001-04:002014-07-22T19:00:32.832-04:00

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-72691025017170699142014-06-27T17:06:00.001-04:002014-06-27T17:15:03.999-04:00

There are afternoons in the summer when the sky is so blue it is almost purple. If the sun is at my back I can stare at it and get lost in it, all the while wishing I could describe it (is it periwinkle? or is that indigo?), bottle it, remember it when I'm feeling anything less than happy. 

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-87055900156826719912014-06-07T09:46:00.001-04:002014-06-07T09:50:53.898-04:00

Found this on my white board yesterday, written between restriction enzyme sequences. My spirit really needed it. Thanks, girls.

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-39234505707742358282014-06-01T20:15:00.000-04:002014-06-01T22:14:44.885-04:00

This time last year, I was probably already a fixture by the pool, well on my way to summer bronze, pink only around my strap lines. Two weeks into this pool season, I have yet to stop by the pool for my pool pass. I haven't even brought my chair up from the basement, although I did repack my pool bag for a day at the beach (that we spent bundled up in the back yard--having fun nevertheless).

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5229605801528526686.post-72934078437026097582014-05-24T19:08:00.001-04:002014-05-27T06:13:18.641-04:00

Last week, while I was gearing up to write a post that in some way explained, if not excused, my three or four month absence/negligence/less than stellar effort to write, I came across a few things dated 2010 and 2011. That I could find a list of things to do or reread an email from four years ago and feel like it was yesterday was a little disconcerting. I felt nothing akin to how I did when

jckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08068072894507213797noreply@blogger.com1