In early spring, I. was offered a part-time seasonal position with a home improvement chain (blue, not orange). He is part of the stocking crew, and gets out of bed at 3.00 a.m. each morning in order to make it to work on time (4.00). This job caused a significant shift in our sleep schedule, and we are now routinely in bed before dark every night (or, at least, most weeknights).
In the midst of the crazy, we managed to escape to nearby Asheville for a weekend. I found the city largely uninspiring--we stopped at a "riverfront" that was really a railwayfront--but it was nice to be out of our hometown. We enjoyed art exhibits and glass blowing in the railwayfront arts district; had some real mexican food at long, long last; and walked around the old town looking at about twenty identical gift shops that thought themselves unique and quirky. We also sampled a few local brews.
Gift shop copper wind twirly thing (because I. likes copper).
Coffee shop on a double-decker bus:
Candy in an upscale and expensive "general store":
A flight of local beverages:
After Asheville, our noses stayed glued to our figurative grindstones for months. I. continued his early schedule, and I used the extra morning time to stay on top of teaching prep and grading. School ended with two of the craziest weeks imaginable, and then I had a week of teachers' meetings in which we spent dozens of hours watching a video series that offered, more or less, the basics of Christianity in fourteen easy lessons.
As soon as teachers' meetings ended, I laid claim to a classroom formerly occupied by one of my colleagues. The greatest perks of the new room are that it has functioning air conditioning and a thermostat, both of which will make next year significantly less miserable. My books have been moved but are waiting to be unpacked.
I. and I tentatively discussed ideas of a short vacation, but on the eve of making a decision, he was offered a last-minute teaching job at a community college in Knoxville. He teaches afternoon labs on a slightly strange schedule that in which he works an average of three days each week. His first week on the new job included a grueling four consecutive days in which he rose at 3.00, stocked shelves from 4.00-10.00, drove to Knoxville (about 70 miles each way), taught from noon till about 6.00 in the evening, drove home, and repeated the schedule over again. What a wonderful and hard-working man I married!
Needless to say, after a week of this schedule, I. was exhausted, so we spent a weekend in the city itself, partly for a break and partly to cut down on the driving required by this new post. Knoxville was largely uninspiring, but had a few charms.
I did enjoy walking down a sketchy alleyway, located between Market Square and Gay Street. Amid the rubble, trash bags, and old man in a wheelchair were several dozen works of graffiti art, all unique.
We also walked down Gay Street, which was mostly closed except for a really lovely French cafe where we sat and drank six cups of coffee.
After Knoxville, we settled into a slightly more stable routine (I. has no more six-day teaching weeks, which is a gift) and also bought an important new piece of furniture: a small table for our back patio. We are hoping this will make our rather small home feel substantially larger, and I am looking forward to reading and writing outdoors after I. goes to work in the mornings (it's too hot in the afternoons to use this after he has come home, alas).
Here's our inaugural use of the table; I. is grading lab reports, while I am reading The Once and Future King.
The nicest view from the back patio:
I. finishes his class in about a month, at which point I am hoping we will actually be able to see one another for a few days! In the meantime, I am staying busy preparing for next year, reading lots of books, and tutoring Latin.
