I dressed like a pumpkin today. That is, I wore an orange shirt and green cords. My students looked somewhat skeptical, but I tell you, that's about as dressed up as I've gotten on this day. Ever.
Why is it that some people love to dress up and others can't really muster up enthusiasm for it? Costume or cocktail dress -- none of it excites me. I care about the clothes I wear and yet, I can't seem to warm to the idea of dress-up.
(Excuse me: I forgot to post the morning shot. In honor of Maine, I suppose -- the poster of the fishing boats is from there...)
(And I should post this shot -- from Rosie's back, on the way to work. It makes me think we have mountains at the horizon. As you'll have guessed, actually -- they're clouds.)
At Paul's cafe this afternoon, the barista spoke excitedly about a hypothetical costume she wanted to wear: dead, bloody face and a sexy dress... when people ask what am I, I'd answer -- dead sexy. But I figured this is a child-friendly place and that wouldn't fit in. She seemed disappointed. I'd be thrilled if somebody told me I shouldn't dress up.
And yet, I like holidays. I like special days, pretty days, as Ed would say -- Hallmark days. Days of humor, warmth, days of pumpkins, if pumpkins be the way to go.
Pumpkins. I can do pumpkins! Out back, left by the farmers who farm there.
And creaky barn, with cobwebs and mice and who knows what other vermin inside.
After? Too tired to sleep. Catch up time. Scheduling a whirlwind of late afternoon/evening office hours tomorrow. Because if you give written feedback to students (this is what kept me up nights the last days), they always like to review it in person. All 54 of them. Which is a good thing. Except for the fact that there are 54 of them.