Friday, March 31, 2006

Post #1501 

Home today taking care of one violently ill three year old, one slightly less ill and able spouse, one fast-moving toddler two weeks shy of her first birthday.

Somewhere in the invisible distance the workplace goes on without me. My students get taught something like and unlike what I would have taught them myself, inviting the eternal question of pedagogy vs. curriculum, a long-awaited nature/nurture parallel.

The child sleeps at my feet, curled around pillow in startling daylight. The wife sleeps restless upstairs with the baby, trying to keep her from illness. Outside, the cat stalks a hundred birds of spring.

It's like a weekend, except not at all.

Which is no suprise, really, because nothing is like anything anymore. Not my daughter's stomach. Not the Web 2.0 that I ask my 8th graders to consider in my absence, the new wisdom of the web so much like the old wisdom before it. Not the lawn, growing grasstufts here and there, where before a leechfield melted into the woods, loam and rock.

The world reforms, begins anew each day. Each blog post is another Spring, an essai, an attempt at worldcreation. Each garden bulb, each new green shoot is a mystery that will solve itself with or without the words to describe it.

Redundant, circular, we wander around Escherworld corners, never knowing where/when we might meet ourselves, never sure whether we should be afraid or hopeful in the face of such possibility.

Is the stomach growing queasy? Perhaps I am sick, or will be. Or maybe awakening always feels like this.

posted by boyhowdy | 8:49 AM |

Just eat plenty of red and spicy peppers and you'll never get sick.
Post a Comment
coming soon
now listening