‘Tis Wednesday, the Eve of the Feast of All Saints.
I, as usual, do not understand the allure of celebrating Halloween to college students and those of an older age. So I go through the day in a curmudgeonly mode, teach my lessons and classes, stay quiet, and come home to dark house that is staying dark, even at 7.30 p.m. Thus it has ever been with me, and ever will be.
How can Mitt Romney sleep at night? This man who is so caring and proper and, according to his bio, Christian and compassionate, lies and distorts and says whatever is necessary for him to make it to the presidency. The hypocrisy just boggles my mind.
And why hasn’t President Obama pointed out to one and all that no matter the President says he will do, he still has to get approval, at least for funds, through a tortured and tormented Congress. One man cannot save all of this. But a group can, and should. I fear, though, for this country in our self-serving special-interest culture.
So, I keep my head down. And in the midst of that, and of my recent illnesses, I’ve been experiencing some of the best teaching opportunities . . . and successes . . . of my career. Today’s lessons were all super-successful, as was one on Sunday.
I printed and pasted yesterday the last of my travel blog entries from London into the travel journal I kept. I also have pasted a few postcards. One of these days, in my dotage, I expect that I will enjoy the reminiscences — if, that is, I can still read my rather quick-pen writing.
Speaking of beautiful writing, Letitia Baldridge died this week. We have lost a lovely and luminous lady.