Just Thinking On a Sunday Morning: Eagles, Patriotism, Love, and Hope

This Eagle I Saw. I Didn't Have My phone, however.

I ran yesterday. Actually, I'm always running, but it doesn't seem to make a difference: the girth packs on, the psoriasis multiplies, and the aches increase. We spent the day at Walnut Beach, getting our new kayak some play time and trying to enjoy the 4th of July hoopla ahead - we all have flexibility in our schedule.

The bald eagle. Our national bird. Something I've admired and appreciated for a very long time.

Yesterday, after the beach and viewing of a couple of World Cup games, I went for a run on Walnut Beach in Milford, Connecticut, and as I ran, I know I saw a bald eagle. There's reports of them in the area, but I've never seen one for myself. When it was in flight, and I was just starting out on mile one, I saw the white head and thought, "This is definitely an eagle."  I immediately thought of Chitunga, as this is his spirit animal, and then I though of my nephew, Dylan, who will begin the first steps towards basic training tonight. I can't imagine what my sister and brother-in-law are going through, but I love them both, as much as I love my nephew. I am in complete admiration and respect of his decision to serve. Serving was the mission of Chitunga, too, but because of an eye degeneration, they wouldn't allow him to stand up for what he believed in most. The patriotism, however, is still the same. Dylan will be able to fulfill his dream and, as hard as it is for all of us who have never served, I know he is doing something remarkable, admirable, and necessary. Sadly, however, it is at a time when we are all questioning who we are supposed to be globally.

I believe in the Eagle. I believe in my son, like I believe in my nephew and the American mission. Historically, the United States has meant something tremendous - not only on a local front, but on an international front - the land of the free. The blending of super diversity and the exercising of intellectual, spiritual, political, economic, political, and social pastiche. The America I believe in is one where hard work, compassion, a gentle arm for the brother and sister next door, and the love of humanity, in the U.S. and beyond the U.S., is central to the day to day routine. That is the flight I set out to achieve as a teacher, educator and researcher, and what I promote through the actions I hope I take.

• To be American is to be responsible.
• To be American is to work hard.
• To be American is not to have excuses.
• To be American is to admire and respect diversity, individuality, and intellect.
• To be American is to believe in the mission of blended communities and a better tomorrow.
• To be American is to have knowledge of history - that of today, yesterday, and many yesterdays beyond that.
• To be American is to recognize the fact that we, too, were once a colony.
• To be American is to take responsibility not only for national protection, but global order.
• To be American is to invest more in love than in hate. 
• To be American is to believe in something larger than ourselves - a trust in international social order that transcends everything we currently know.

There is an America I believe in, and when I saw the Eagle yesterday I was reminded of it. Give me your tired, your poor, your hungry.. America is the first nation to mesh together many nations and to try to bring conversation, dialogue and order through dialogue and respect. That is what it looks like, at least, on paper. 

I know it is hard on my sister and brother-in-law today, and I know that much has changed radically in a very short time, and I know that this week is the 4th of July, but I love to believe in hope and I am hoping that we will right the wrongs of today to make this nation....this world....this universe a better place. Maybe I'm naive and optimistic, but I know that we can all be better than this.

Heading Into the Weekend With Hopes of Tranquility and Peace

Friday night. We got home from work around 4 pm and I immediately went for a run. Ali and Abu waked the dog. When we returned, we had a cornhole tournament until Chitunga needed a ride. I got him and we came home to continue the tournament. By 8, someone said, "Let's go to the Sound," and I thought, "This might be great for my psoriasis (which, coincidently, is the color of the pink and purple sky to the side).

This was all great, but we didn't get a meal in until almost 11 p.m. because we played football, competed over beanbags, and waded in the ocean. Feeling fortunate, though, that sunsets look like this so close to our house.

So, it's Saturday. We will sleep in slightly and then make it a World Cup day (and probably a kayak day, too). In the meantime, I'm just thankful to have a day to sleep in. The early mornings have wiped me up.

Enjoy the peace.

A Few Opening Prompts From @CWPFairfield's 1st Week of Summer Young Adult Literacy Labs

Because it's impossible to be in three or more places at once, I've made it a habit over the years to use whiteboard space on campus to spark a.m. writing tasks for our teachers and students attending Connecticut Writing Project summer programs. I move from room to room and simply sketch out a possibility for writing to align with writing objectives named by the lab teachers. One of my favorites began last year in Project Citizen - an acrostic of sorts to welcome kids into the morning with a poem written from the alphabet and offering them a bit of writing advice:

A nd it's Wednesday, somewhere
B etween Monday & Friday, where
C randall wants a fun
D isplay of creative imagination, 
E xcellent innovation, 
F antastic inspiration
G randiose contemplation of 
H ow words matter 
I n our lives ---
J ustifying stories, how he survives...
K nowing that 
L anguage  & notebooks is how the writer drives,
M eandering through Fairfield & Connecticut
N ights...challenging the wrongs, upholding
O ur nights, 
P romoting integrity, how the poet fights, 
Q uestioning falsehoods, 
R eaching for the moon, 
S aluting the universe
T hen watching a cartoon
U buntu ... togetherness...
V irtue & whether the Great 
W hatever will guide our way, 
X ploring our everything
Y es! We have another day
Z okie! K'plowie! Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! 

The sports writers, too, had an a.m. challenge of writing several haikus about their favorite sport, as they have been writing across many genres to highlight the games they love to play. I drafted

Saucony road map,
landscaped pavement nirvana
sweating out a goal.

Morning sunlight kiss,
mist steaming from the grass
right foot, left foot, sprint.

Birds singing in trees, 
squirrels collecting those nuts,
dogs barking out back

Waking up each mile
breathing in another day
exhaling new hope...

muscles tightening 
leaping forward, miles add up
while some drink coffee.

No music, nature,
providing rhythmic lyrics,
running a new day.

It's not always easy to find writing time, but at 7:30 in the morning, it works! It's a great way to kick off the day.

Another Indicator That Summer Is Really Here...Glamis The Wonder Dog Gets Royalty Treatment

It was the first time the Crandall special was made this summer after a long day of work Coach Sydney Johnson visited with his athlete Aidas, Phil Strang came to coach us in ultimate frisbee, the Little Lab had a day of script writing and creating their own dialogue, and we continued to get great feedback from Florida teachers.

We got home, I said, "Let's do a meat run for food," and we stopped by Burlington to get footwear and clothing. In short, the night turned into grilling, the making of the Crandall special, followed by a long walk with Glamis -The Wonder Dog, all around Stratford, with a few photo shots at the pond by my house.

The steak was okay. The beans were decent. The Crandall special, though - I'm on to something: sauce, garbanzo beans, peppers, chili peppers, black beans, read beans and rice. I also add spices, but it is so, so good, especially when soaking bread in the sauce (it might help, too, that I had Magnum, cookies & cream, bars - I passed...at least for a night).

Of course, my phone blew up in stereo with messages about Big Brother starting, so with a little coercing we flipped the channel. That, and Family Feud, finished our evening. We're hooked for the summer - we knew that was coming.

Wow! We're at Thursday already! Here we go!

Wonderful To Share Ubuntu with Western Florida University - The Generations Continue to Grow

Yesterday, in the middle of Sports Writing and Young Adult Literacy Labs, I had the opportunity to present to several teachers attending a summer institute at Western Florida University through my friend, Dr. Susan James. Each years, she asks me not to put together anything formal, but to wing it - "you'll be fine!"

That's not how I role.

I spent a short time putting together a conversation, then asked Abu Bility, Ali Adan (Syracuse, and youth from my doctoral research in 2018), Max Sommer, a young writer who has been with our programs for a few years, and Robel, a student from Bassick High School in his 3rd year of Ubuntu Academy who is also working with us this summer, to co-present our programs to the teachers. We framed it, of course, around Ubuntu, and with the history from Syracuse to now, the story just flows.

It was great to set up a framework, and then to let the other boys take over the conversation. I just sat back and listened, hearing what they had to tell the teachers. I think they were utterly amazed to learn that Ali is one semester from finishing his own teaching credentials and that Abu is at a school working, thinking he wants to be an ESL teacher himself. Hearing them build up to this part of the story made me tear up a little. Robel, who has only been in the nation a couple of years, discussed how important it is for him to have leadership opportunities and experiences to enhance his English. Max, on the other hand, stole the show.

"Meeting Abu and Lossine a couple of years ago," he told the teachers, "changed my life forever." Max is leaving 8th grade and entering 9th grade, and because of the influence of CWP's programs, he wants to be a sports writer, but also wants to continue to think critically about the world. "Before I worked with CWP, I was a little naive about the way the world works," he continued. "Hearing Abu and Lossine's stories made me question how everything works globally. I told my mom that I've lived a very different life and I began writing and reading more." This year, Max completed a 15 page research paper on the importance of empathy in sports (with a full bibliography) and included a page on an interview he did with my cousin, Mark Crandall. "Learning about the experience of others expands one's horizon and puts everything into perspective. Meeting the boys make me a better human being."

It was a day of deep reflection for me, especially as the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in favor of anti-immigrant/refugee legislation (which makes sense considering the politics behind naming the latest appointee). The dissent statements were brilliantly crafted and stated, but we are in a new era where up is down, down is up, lies are truth, and truth is a lie. I'm hopeful and positive these days will pass, but like a majority of this nation, extremely perplexed, disappointed, and sad by the turn of events over the last couple of years. Like Max, I know my life has been enriched in incredible ways by the young people I work with - youth, by the way, who are nationally excelling American-born peers in school and in college settings.

This is not reported. Instead, propaganda that parallels other nations is being sold to the masses. It's historical and it is what it is. I'd try to make sense of it, but that would be wasted thinking and time. It makes no sense and trying to position a reason for it, would just drive me bonkers. I will just let it runs its course and shake my head.

Meanwhile, I cooked the first batch of corn on the cob for the summer and I give a B/B+. It was good, but not perfect. The steak tips, pasta and sausage? Now that won.

Back to the vision and mission tomorrow. Strange to think that the work I do is despised, criticized and used as example for everything "wrong" with America, but this is a Democracy and with freedom of thought, so goes the rhetoric of the nation.

We have so so so far to go. 

And With This One Stone I Hit My Niece & My Bro-in-Law (Tweet Tweet Tweet)

It's all about them. Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike

Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike
Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike Nikki Mike

Happy Birthdays, You Two.

And We're Off! @Cwpfairfield! Sports Writing & Little Lab For Big Imaginations

The kids finished school last Friday and this Monday, we're back with our first two Young Adult Literacy Labs - 30 young people coming to Fairfield University to think like sportscasters, biographers, sports journalists, interviewers, as well as poets, storytellers, and comic illustrators. Last week, the books arrived, the writers' notebooks were set in place, and the room was organized.

Last night, Ali and Abu arrived (Alli ali alli Allah, Alli Al Abu), Mr. King and Justin came over, and we planned for the week ahead with athletics, ideas, team building and sports trivia. I am already realizing that feeding so many this summer is going to require me to remortgage my house.

Meanwhile, Mindy, Jessica and Stefania have created a phenomenal week for our littlest writers - the first week of three this summer as the numbers keep increasing.

Always thankful to my buddy and inspiration, Kwame Alexander, for providing the backdrop for some of the work this summer. No one crafts a poetic story like him, especially that appeals to all the readers and writers we work with. Rebound  has quickly become a crowd favorite and The Playbook is a great way to get kids listing and thinking (we're going to create our own Playbooks for Sports Writing this week).

Holding my breath.

Here we go!

Congratulations, Dylan - You Make The 6th Crandall/Isgar Graduate of Cicero-North Syracuse High School

I hated to miss a family event, especially one as important as a high school graduation, but school-endings mean summer-beginnings for my work with CWP-Fairfield. They release them, and I take them in. I was lucky enough, however, to be in Syracuse last week to spend quality time with my nephew, Dylan, before his party and his departure to the U.S. Army (stationed for bootcamp outside of St. Louis, Missouri).

I'm proud of him. He has been determined for a very long time to serve in the military and looked up to his grandpa Fred for many years. I used to love seeing the admiration he had for my brother-in-law's father and, without a doubt, there was a tremendous connection between them.

I'm also proud of his high school success. Somewhere around 9th grade he started to do really well in school and when asked what the resurrection was he simply stated, "Oh, I just thought I'd try a little more this year." Dylan - the kid with the infatuation for Godzilla (I still remember the talking dinosaur with him as a toddler). Dylan - the game enthusiast who always decries, "Can you give me $20 bucks?' so he could buy another game. Dylan - the artist, who at an early age loved to draw so I kept buying him blank journals to doodle in. Dylan - the loner, who occasionally graced us with his presence when he felt like offering it to us. Dylan - the late-blooming musician who loved to sing and, we later learned, dance to music we didn't even know he knew. Dylan - the sarcastic comedian whose one-liners dig deep (and are probably the result of living a life following Nikki who needed to be the center of all attention). Dylan - the worker, who keeps an eye on my sister and knows when it is time to step up and pitch in. Dylan - the dishwasher, Cicero Country Pizza will miss you. Dylan - the Tuesday ritualist who, if he could, never missed a lunch with my parents at the Clam Bar. Dylan - the movie fanatic (like his dad) who keeps abreast of the latest showings (he's come a long way from that awful dragon movie Mike and I took him to as a kid). Dylan - the silent warrior who has his heart and mind set on serving the United States Army and who is passionate about history and democracy.

Yesterday, the family celebrated my nephew, but I was in Connecticut doing what I do in the summer.  I'm glad the day was a success and I am thinking of him and our family the day after, too.

He's my height now...was my weight, but slimmed down nicely to make basic training requirements. Perhaps he'll be a runner, too - I've bought him a few pairs of sneakers to encourage this. Something tells me, too, that he might one day be a history teacher.

But it should be known, either Chitunga or I always beat him in RISK. Here's to the another generation of Crandall/Isgar success.

"Is This Some Kind of Retirement Party?" - And Crandall (Class of 1990) Hit That Mile-Mark of OLD

Chitunga and I ventured out to hear a Prince tribute band, The Beatiful Ones, at a local bar by the water, meeting our friends (and his) for a Friday night of unwinding. Inevitably, our crowds separated as the young people wanted their space and the only people simply wanted to talk over a few drinks.

The music was okay, but singing along was great. At about 11, the band broke for a break and proceeded to play a series of songs from 1988 - 1990, which of course got the adults excited and we began dancing. For me, it was like I was 18 again.

While this happened, more and more of Chitunga's friends showed up, and my friends and I just danced. It was hilarious and I couldn't help but think I was dancing at my prom.

Soon, however, the older folks decided they needed to leave, so I told Chitunga and his friends they could come back to the house to finish out the party. One of the boys asked, "Dr. Crandall, was this some sort of retirement party we were just at?"

Reality check. These boys were born 5 years after I graduated high school. They were 10 years old when I was teaching in Kentucky in 2005. They don't necessarily know Prince or any of the music from the 1980s but that "stuff my parents listen to."

Meanwhile, I get a text from a student, class of 1998, sending me a photo from after she graduated University of Kentucky. She was thinking of me and the time that we went to a Prince concert at Staples Stadium in Los Angeles, but also the time that her classmates and her raided my house in their senior year of college while I lived in Kentucky.

She sent this photograph from sometime around 2001 when I was probably grading papers and they invaded my home - hilarious that it came while watching a Prince impersonator, especially because her passion for Prince (and Stevie Wonder) were absolutely insane.

I'm looking at them knowing they are adults now, and listening to the boys in my kitchen who are 22 right now making memories of craziness for their own youth.

Eavesdropping on them sharing stories has me hysterical as I type in the other room. Ah, but I'm sort of sad, too. It flies by.

Today is my nephew's graduation party, age 19, and he will be heading to the Army in July. He's on my mind, too, because it seems he was just born. I'm hoping my family has a great celebration and I am able to finish a project by the time their party begins (fingers crossed).

Not sure what to do with this post, other than cherish the beauty of the pace of life.

And With a 12-Hour Day, The @CWPFairfield Summer Institute Teachers are Now Oriented

So Stefania, my undergraduate worker, and I worked miracles today because many items arrived in preparation for Young Adult Literacy Labs and the teacher institute....well, yesterday. The funniest of  the items that arrived were from our friend who makes our stickers who sent a text that said, "Meet me at exit 42 at 1 p.m. or else you won't get your stickers until next week?"

Ransom?

No. He's busy too and they arrived (and we picked them up at exit 42 of the Merritt). I told him, "I hope the cops aren't seeing this exchange."

They look great on the writers' notebooks and coordinate all the programs that we're running.

Our hats, too, also arrived - something new and different from t-shirts.

And then there are the 400 or so books that we've ordered for sports writers, novelists, political-minded youth, lil' kids with big imaginations, and and teacher leaders.

Speaking of teacher leaders, last night, we fed and oriented our summer crew who are setting out to polish their own writing portfolios and who will be creating their own demonstrations and workshops to bring back to their schools. We unpacked boxes, assembled over 200 stickers for our summer participants, ordered food, made to-do lists and prepared to welcome our first groups of young writers on Monday morning.

The University will only be open 1/2 day tomorrow and I'll be there putting the final touches on the works ahead (including the contracts for the 17 teachers who will be teaching for us this summer).

So much love, so much joy, and so much need for more sleep. Phew.

It Was 20 Years Ago, I Had No Grays, I Was a Fledgling Teacher and Demark Was Beautiful

Yesterday was Tyler Givan's, Class of 2000, Birthday and when I reached out to him with a shout out, he responded, "Twenty years ago today we were in Denmark on a cultural exchange."

That hit me. 20 years since that 1998 trip. Well, yes. The math does equate to two decades.

Umph. I'm old.

Corie, Meredith, Brian, Ehren, Tyler, Bonnie, Jon, Dan, Heidi, & Chloe as a guide.

I immediately ran to my photo album from that time (remember those?) and walked down memory lane. I was 26 years old, finishing a 2nd Masters degree in Environmental Studies, and surviving as a first-year teacher at the J. Graham Brown School.

It was then I learned that I was to find housing for 10th graders from Denmark as part of my job. I couldn't find housing for all the kids and ended up taking in two in my own home: Louise and Flemming. They won me over and I knew that no matter what, I was going to find a way to visit them in their home country.

The exchange for them with us in Louisville, Kentucky and for us with them in Roskilde, Denmark was irreplaceable. For a decade, I loved bringing in more and more generations of the Brown/Lille Skole family together for international and cultural experiences. Each year more and more kids participated and Carrie Klingenfus brought it to greater heights.

I had long side burns then and a pony tail. I used a frog backpack and was still curious about the world and travel - having the opportunity to bring my own students was absolutely amazing.

It was also a different time - no cell phones, no internet (actually, they were first appearing at the end of my career in Kentucky), no populist movements (although they were beginning), and absolute trust and collaboration between teachers of two nations.

Lars, Vibeka, Tom, Preben, Ulla, Stefan, Kristin, and Gunar were my mentors, my friends, my joy, my inspiration, and my hosts. I loved having them in my home as well. They were introduced to me by Bonnie, a kindergarten teacher, and Maie, a librarian, who carried the exchange torch before I arrived.

Oh, the stories that could be told: first loves between the kids, crazy American and Danish parties that put us all on edge, the Lille Skole music fest, world dialogue about democracy, pickled herring, Hans Christian Anderson, rafting Beargrass Creek - it was a beautiful time that, I admit, would not occur with the ways our societies have evolved today. Although everything was beautiful, our worlds have changed and the liabilities, I imagine, are too extreme to do such a thing now (or maybe I've just become too old to take such risks). Such work, however, was important, amazing, and necessary. I'd argue that cultural exchanges are part of a global solution towards peace.

Phew. So much is happening right now in preparation for next week's summer kick-off, but I am thinking about 20 years ago when I was younger (much younger) and this exchange meant the world to me. I have so many memories and the Great Whatever has taken so many lives that were HUGE in my world with Denmark.

I would, however, do anything to once again visit my friends in that nation. They were always wonderful, admirable, hard-working and optimistic colleagues.

I am heading into work this morning totally nostalgic for a time that once was.

Day Two of @CwpFairfield Summer Organization - We Organized the Supply Closets

I am forever thankful to undergraduate Stefania Vendrella and GSEAP's graduate students for tackling a tremendous task yesterday. Our supplies arrived at the same time the University is taking away the CWP-Fairfield Office and asking my assistant to move into the storage closet. So, we needed to begin condensing offices at the same time we unpacked boxes of supplies for the 100s of kids and teachers we work with each summer.

We didn't finish, but we made tremendous progress - it is doubtful an assistant will ever fit into the storage closet but that is the plan of action required of us - we worked like crazy, but kept laughing at how this is supposed to be possible.

I''ve hired 17 teachers for the summer as we continue to build community relations, provide incredible scholarships, and offer phenomenal writing instruction over six weeks during the summer months. Our model results from professional development, grants, and a business plan that works. Unfortunately, as our programs grow and there's a need for expansion, we're being crunched for space.

The world never ceases to amaze me.

I Love My Brother-In-Law, Mike! Even At The Dentist in Two Different States

A couple of weeks ago I lost a filling on a piece of asparagus and for the days that followed, I have had an awful time getting food caught in between my teeth. Well, it wasn't a filling, it was actually a chipped crown, so Daddy Warbucks needs to kick in for a replacement.

I sent my brother-in-law a photo of me in the dentist chair when he returned with one of his own - he had a toothache that turned into a hanging tooth. While I was being worked on in Stratford, Connecticut, he was being appraised in Syracuse, New York.

You know you've hit middle age when something like these two photos totally cracks you up. It seems like yesterday Mike was getting his eyebrows plucked as a 22-year old courtier to my older sister. There wasn't a gray on us.

Now we're both gray all the way.

I was worked on my a new dentist who is taking over my retiring dentist's office and she greeted me with, "Today is my first day and work, so you shouldn't be nervous at all," then asked the dental assistant, "Can you teach me how to floss this guy?"

She was hilarious and at about 5'2'' she said, "I'll need you to tilt your head more than usual because you're the length of this entire office and I have to use a high chair to see in your mouth."

She was actually very good, but through in these one-liners throughout the procedure that caught me off guard and kept me entertained. "Oh, I think I just worked on the wrong tooth. You have a couple of hours, don't you? I need to start all over."

And that is how my Monday began - nothing like dental camaraderie with the bro-in-law (it could have been worse, we might've shared colonoscopy photos - which I'm not looking forward to).

So here's to the inevitability of decaying teeth and a lifetime of sharing silliness with my sister's husband and my friend for life.

Back in CT and Finally on the Sound in a Green Kayak

Chitunga and I made it back in really good time, so after we unpacked I asked, "What do you want to do?" He wanted to eat at Pam's and afterward to try out the new kayak, which he was resistant of in Syracuse because of the woman's drowning in one of the lakes.

He caught on fast and had a great time paddling on the sound (and eventually gave me a try).

It was low tide and I'm sure it will be even more fun when the water is up. It was easy to get into and out of and it moves along rather quickly.

Well, it's back to Monday and besides my psoriasis being on fire, I have a dental appointment and a to-do list about 40 miles long. Glamis, the wonder dog, has taken the return home to absolute zonk out - she's been snoring at our side the entire evening. She isn't twitching in the slightest - just out with the occasional grunt and groan.

We made it back safely and now we get ready for a busy, altering week again. So glad we had Father's Day to spend time on the water (and that Chitunga overcame his fear that he'd flip and drown). He did great. Now I want to buy another one!

Finished the evening with a long conversation until midnight. Time to make the donuts!

Father's Day, Father's Week, Central New York Style (But Today We Depart)

We lasted a week. Chitunga finished his internship in Liverpool and the other in North Syracuse, and yesterday we spent the day out back, by the pool, with plenty of barbecue and dogs festivity, as well as some decent corn hold play with Abu, Lossine, Akech and Kanyea. Nikki would have played, too, but she was figuring out how tossed salad and Moscow Mules work together.

I have to laugh at Glamis. She is simply beyond exhausted. These days with cousin dogs always over and then neighbor dogs stopping by to say hello are simply to exhausting for her own good.

Last night, after Chitunga and I had a scone-baking lesson with my parent's neighbor, Doreen, they both simply fell into REM cycles while watching television (and they did this under the Family Ties photographs of yesteryear - check out Cynde's Mallory hair).

Today, we must drive back to Connecticut as the work of this week is ready to be implemented at the University starting Monday, and Chitunga needs to be in New Jersey for his training with Ernst & Young.

It's times to hold my breath and go full force ahead with summer programs (and I know my office is stocked from top to bottom with orders that arrived this week: books, props, materials, etc. that we'll need all summer).

The exhausted of these two will be mine very soon.

Ah, but for this week, I've enjoyed spending time with my mom, dad, and sisters. It's a great change of pace to be able to be in a new environment (yet one that is so old and dear). I love them all so very much and the memories become more and more cherished each and every year.

It is true, "Absence makes the heart grow stronger." Happy Father's Day.

Backyard Family Fun & @NikkiIsgar Phone Thievery in Upstate New York

 I didn't get to my phone until late Friday night when I discovered these two monsters plaster the camera with their selfies (this was the only tame one, and they both looked good, so the kind, generous Uncle opted for this one). J.C. & Nikkerdoodles being silly while I played corn hole.

We opted for a fish fry and my stomach is regretting every mouthful. I'm not used to that much fried food and it burns. Ah, but we all were fed while the cousin dogs played and played and played.

Another highlight was taking my nephew Dylan to go see The Incredibles II which I've been waiting 14 years to see. I enjoyed the film, but I would have liked it about 12 years ago so that the wait wouldn't heighten my expectations so much. Don't get me wrong - it was clever and witty like the first film, but I was looking for a different story and one that would have covered all the years that have passed since.

The evening ended with a fire in my father's new Chimnea that my mom and I got him for Father's Day, and we competed the evening with marination by the fire while slapping mosquitos from our neck. There is something hypnotic about flames and Chitunga and I were the last ones left before I took a hose the last remaining embers at about 11.

So many years of Amalfi Drive/Cherry Heights togetherness and, well, the kids keep getting older, bigger and more mature. It seems strange to see the latest generation at the forefront of enjoying the pool, the food, and the games. It seems to go by a little too fast.

But that fried food. I said to Chitunga, "That might be it for me with CNY fish fries. My stomach can't take the acidity produced from the grease, although it's delicious going down.

And I'm feeling thankful for the Syracuse weather this week, as it's been kind for outdoor gatherings and long runs. I am feeling fortunate, indeed, to be able to work from the homeland and still find time to socialize. Great to see Rhiannon again, too.

Son of a Butch - Father's Day Is Coming & I'll Show Love Wherever I Can

Crandall's been up for a new challenge during this visit home to his parents. How? He's told the kid, Chitunga, you take my car during the day and I'll stay home to work.

I've been working. I've been running. I've been helping out wherever I can. I can't do anything about parental squabbling, aggravation, miscommunication, and frustration. They've had over 50 years of this...

...or can I? Long story short: dinner planned for Country Pizza, but I've been eating too much pizza (because it is a CNY norm). I had dinner plans with an old friend from Sudan and dad was at Chubby's. When he came home, he was hungry and mom wasn't. Chitunga was still at work. Dad wanted to know what was for dinner and I told him he had to wait. He responded, "What?" and I said, "Wait." He then said, "No. I don't like the weight of my hearing aids because they make me itch."

Okay, I'll take that. It was close enough.

But he was hungry and I didn't know how to respond: Option 1 was to have him come to dinner with Marino, Chitunga and I but he would have to wait (WEIGHT!) until 7:45 p.m. - he wasn't having that. I called Cynde wondering if they were still doing pizza, but they opted on McDonald's night because Mike had a toothache and Nikki was going to be late (LEIGHT!). I then asked my father (I'm a Son of a Butch), "If you could have anything for dinner in the world, what would that be?" (I repeated it four times so he could hear me. He responded, "Jesus Christ. She doesn't like anything I like to eat so forget about it."

I pressed further.

"Dad. If you could have your dream dinner, what would it be?"

Like a 3 year old admitting to his secret lollipop-flavor desire, my father looked up with pouted lips and said, "I'd like what you like to eat. Shrimp and scallops over pasta." I do like to eat that, so I said, "I'm on it." Mom responds, "Wait. What? Why?" Chitunga says he doesn't want to go with me, but I head out to Wegman's. For my non-NY readers, Wegman's is basically heaven on earth in the form of a grocery store (those of us who know the store, but who live in non-Wegman's states, understand the joy of going to Wegman's as much as possible).

I drove to Wegman's, went to the fresh Sea Food display and bought $15 worth of fresh shrimp and scallops. I picked up linguini, too. I came home and said, "Chitunga, off the couch. You're learning how to cook, " which he then obliged and we started with how to boil water for pasta. I then sautéed the scallops and shrimp, brought them out to the grill, and barbecued them to go with the linguini.

Note: Water doesn't boil on medium. That's the next lesson for Chitunga.

Once the water was put on high and the pasta cooked, my father received his dinner. He loved every bite. My mom didn't have to cook. We didn't have to hear any bitching. Mom was given a bucket of Magnum ice-cream for her dinner. And the boy and I drove to meet our friend Marino for dinner.

Wola! That's love, Amalfi Drive style.

Two hours later when we returned I asked dad, "Did you like your dinner?" He responded, "What?" A little louder, "Did you like your dinner?" "No, I am not a Chubby's winner. Someone else got the pool."

He then said that he wanted more of the pasta and fish, but I wrapped the rest in Tupperware, so he'd have to eat it for lunch tomorrow.

I'll finger-lick, air-strike this as a win!

Barnwell Night in Manlius & Furniture Shopping Must Run in the Family

The storms never came. They hyped them up with straight line winds, damaging lightening and loud thunder.

Nothing.

I even found time to vacuum my parents pool again, spending a couple of hours trying to get their water clear for their summer rendezvous. Actually, I just needed an excuse to mindlessly walk the pool in the humidity after running, then walking the dog.

Later, when Chitunga returned from work, we traveled to visit the cousins, Casey, Dave & John for their Wednesday rituals. Their new room keeps getting nicer and their furniture is very similar to ours (although we don't have feet rests that pop out or four ground hogs living under our shed).

The highlight of the night was the argument between Dave and Tweening Sean as father tried to get son on top of a group project involving a cow, a box, paint, and poop....still can't get my head around what the purpose was, but none of Sean's friends have been doing their part and the due date is getting closer. Arranging him to arrange his friends, while arranging moms to help arrange boys to make arrangements to get the project done was quite the comedy...especially in Dave-land. We couldn't help but laugh.

Sun's back out today, or at least I hope.

A Tuesday in CNY Means The Clam Bar, But I'll Take the Weather, Too

It seemed rather silly to spend the day in the house behind a computer so I opted to spend part of the day outside rereading The Hate U Give, running 6 miles, and walking the dog 2. I was also coerced into vacuuming the pool for my father, which took me about two hours, because I wanted to make sure I vacuumed every corner of the pool (Glamis looked on with approval, as she's never found a need to be a deck dog or a pool hound. She'll watch from the lawn).

I also was able to participate in the Tuesday ritual of eating with the parental units at the Clam Bar. Nikki bypassed, but Dylan allowed me to invade is grand-parental territory and I followed the lead of how to react when Papi Butch goes table to table to talk to all the customers and offer chicken wings off his plate. I forgot how awesome their clam chowder is and although my seafood dish wasn't the usual caliber, I still can't complain. The Clam Bar is too much of a CNY ritual to have pit on one bad meal.

Later, Butch (my dad - son of a Butch) was

registered for a Cornhole tournament at Chubby's so Chitunga and I drove down to cheer him on (and treat him to a few beers and dinner).

It just occurred to me that lunch was at a bar and so was dinner, but I still can't consider Chubby's a real bar - it's a neighborhood barn that also serves ice cream, candy, and pizza (note, this photo is the Clam Bar, not Chubby's). Last night, they had a Cornhole tournament, in which my father and his partner lost all games but one. Chitunga and I were so inspired that we drove home to have a tournament of our own. He won 3 games to 1, although I had the rhythm at first and killed him. He cleaned my clock thereafter.

Today's forecast is the only one calling for rain, so it is likely to be a more nerd-centric production of academic shenanigans. It's all good (it counters the playfulness of yesterday).

But yesterday...that is what I love and cherish most in a CNY summer.

In Transition - Syracuse Mindset, Yet Working On Summer Programs Before School Gets Out

We haven't advertised this year, but the Young Adult Literacy Labs are maintaining solid registrations and fruitful possibilities. I've been saying for a couple of years that we need to sustain what we're doing, but each year a few more youth find us and register.

This year, because of snow days, ice storms and tornadoes, schools are all sorts of wonky without exit dates for summer. Still, our programs are going forward and we're bringing back the usual favorites with a couple more experiments. We shall see.

Meanwhile, the weather in Syracuse is a little too surreal to believe - absolutely clear blue skies, high 70s, with only a little breeze. That's unheard of and they're calling for it again tomorrow.

Cheers to my older sister for grilling out last night and bringing forward the first salt potatoes and lemonade for the season. Also, my nephew Dylan has gotten really good at Badminton and I want to challenge him again tomorrow. I don't like to lose. He beat me two games to zero and that is not supposed to happen.

Okay, Tuesday - we got this. It's not a quick shopping spree at Kohl's or building a Chimnea fire pit for Father's Day like yesterday, but it is another day with a lot of nice weather to consider.

Yes, I also attempted a national call, updated enrollments, worked on summer designs, and trained a few new teachers (online). But, I also took a bike ride, walked, and ran. It's all good.

Welcomed Home to Syracuse with an Unusual Week of Nice Weather and a Great Evening Sky

Once Chitunga made it through the 30 miles we needed to drive to exit Connecticut, it was clear sailing (but boy oh boy oh boy, Connecticut traffic can be maddening). The two of us listened to three episodes of Intelligence Squared and only made one stop along the way. Even Glamis the Wonder Dog seemed to settle for the 4.5 hour drive.

Pulling into Syracuse I said, "I always love coming around this bend and looking at the Syracuse Dome and city." His response, "Aw, I'm already over that."

I'm not. I always love the return to see what is new, has changed, or needs adjustment. I got a run in while Tunga swam then learned from my father that one of his neighbors got married in Ireland and is there for their anniversary. This was the ongoing story of the night that was repeated a few times, which was beautiful because we had it memorized, almost word for word.

I also took the Sunday evening to vacuum out a winter's worth of dog hair accumulated from said Wonder Dog who is neurotic in the car. I am sure the fur in the Shop Vac could build another dog if we wanted to recreate one.

Chitunga has to finish out two internships this week, so he'll have the now clean car while I bum rides with my parents. To be honest, I'm just looking forward to working from a different space than my office chair and home chair. The change of scenery should serve me well.

Always Amazing To Throw a Gathering for Friends Who Have a Lot in Common

Coach Johnson, Jen and I only get a chance to go out once a year, because the basketball schedule is so insane and getting kid-coverage can be difficult. We usually do Dao's but I suggested that we simply have a picnic at my house so the kids could play out back. It was supposed to rain, but it turned out to be a great day - one that was perfect for cornhole and badminton - Chitunga went to OSJL and got us a net.

Knowing they were coming, I thought it would also be wonderful to invite the Sealy-Wooleys as they have similar-aged kids, and Jessica and William because they are like family, so we gathered and it was a great evening until the bug bonanza of 2018 began. Seriously, the bugs were out of control, first beginning with this tiny biting ones and then moving to Pterodactyl sized mosquitoes. They were insane, so we moved it inside.

It was funny because Ishy and Jemma (both heading into kindergarten next year) kept coming to us and asking, "Is it time to go yet?" and we responded, "No." They found every toy we have in the house, plus army figures from Risk and wind-up butterflies and had a field day on the bay window. They ran from us saying, "YES!" By 10 p.m., however, they were falling asleep at play and Jemma came and looked at everyone like she could zonk out standing up. It was funny, because I have vivid memories of being that tired, too, when mom and dad used to play Pitch really late at our camp. We'd be at neighbors and I just wanted to sleep but they were having a good time. They'd say, "Go lay on the couch," and I remember collapsing, only to be picked dup and put in the car when they were ready to go.

All the kids had a great time with ultimate frisbee, soccer, then football, badminton, and even basketball. By 9:30 they were watching Family Feud with Chitunga.

I am sure everyone slept well last night...even with all the bug bites.

Okay, So It Will Be Two Months Late & The Last Day Before School Ends. It's Okay.

Here They Are To the Save The Day - Graduate Students Are On Their Way!

There are not too many people  on campus in the summer months when everything takes off for CWP-Fairfield and I've done a few 14-hour days this week in anticipation of working from Syracuse, New York next week. When I arrived yesterday morning to campus, I said I need to get the gift for Columbus School wrapped .My undergraduates and I worked hard on an art installation and it has been on display in my office, but it needs to be given to the kids of the K-8 school. I dropped wrapping paper off in the GSEAP office and lucky for me Lynn and a graduate student were working - they're always willing to help me out. The gift was wrapped and my intention was to leave by 2 pm to deliver the present to a school.

Nope. Let's just say that at 5 p.m. I finally left campus. Susan LaFrance and I worked as much as we could (even though the campus closes on noon on Fridays). It's the nature of grants and I'm thankful she is willing to put in as many hours as necessary to accomplish the tasks at hand. She is my right hand woman who works on these projects with me late into the evening and on weekends.

Needless to say, I failed to deliver the present. I called the school with apologies and they said, "Don't worry, we aren't finished until the 22nd. Phew. When I return from my working week in Syracuse, I'll still have time to drop it off.

Last night, driving errands with Chitunga, I admitted, "I'm exhausted. I can't have too much more of this. It's not right." I'm not sure what my next moves will be, but I no for sure I absolutely love all the work I do with CWP-Fairfield and the National Writing Project. That is my salvation and joy.

Okay, weekend - I am going on a cleaning spree today and then hosting a barbecue this afternoon. I wish I could say I'm more on top of my game than I actually am, but that is far from the truth.  I'm barely getting along.

So Proud of @Villab17 For Bringing @cwpfairfield with Her to @Hoops4HopeZim From @FairfieldU

There are stories and then there are stories. Of course, following those stories, there are more stories. Some stories, I feel, are awfully complicated to tell, and others are easy to tell, but have complicated depths to them.

This is an easy story, but one that is complex. It is, actually, complex simplicity.

Ms. Vilia Baumilaite, a freshman at Fairfield University, came to my office to introduce herself. She is from Long Island and her mother works with another mother who works with my cousin's organization, Hoops4Hope. I simply stated that any friend of my cousin's is family to me.

Fast forward and I ask, "Vilia, would you be interested in helping me with middle school youth who come to Fairfield for conferences?" She says sure and I quickly learn she is amazing, a go-getter, lots of fun, and a natural in front of audiences. I then learn she's Lithuanian and there's a Lithuanian athlete on my good friend Sydney Johnson's diverse and wonderful basketball team. Although I didn't make many games, I kept looking out for this kid named Aidas Kavaliauskas. We finally kept running into each other right before finals.

Then, many things happened quickly including Fairfield University Men's Basketball Team, The Kazickas Foundation, Hoops4Hope - Zimbabwe, and the unbelievable turn-around from the NCAA to make it possible that both Vilia and Aidas, Fairfield University students, could work with young people in Hoops4Hope basketball clinics. I invited them for dinner (Aidas can eat a lot of steak) and armed them with Kwame Alexander young adult novels and poetry, as well as accessible basketball stories - I did a quick training of how I would teach them  and share with them  a few of my publications. I send them on their way. The preparation was less than two weeks.

Wola! Aidas and Vilia spent 3 weeks in Zimbabwe with Hoops4Hope carrying forth the vision of my cousin's basketball program and skills4life. They brought forth the Jesuit traditions of Fairfield University of being men and women for others and represented the incredible integrity of Coach Sydney Johnson. In addition, they introduced the Zimbabwean All Star Coaches to the incredible verse of a fantastic American author, Kwame Alexander, and received copies of Power of Words, the anthology of student and teacher writers in southern Connecticut.

A snap of the fingers and the incredible luck of The Great Whatever has resulted in safe travels, miraculous collaboration (so much applause is to due to Neila, Vilia's mom), awesome global experience, and a wonderful new chapter to the film, Hoops Africa: Ubuntu Matters which will be shown on our campus next fall.

Yesterday, I was sent the above photograph and, in seconds, my heart filled with joy. The books were delivered and the smiles were genuine. As I get ready for the whirlwind of summer programs to come, I am looking to this photograph as inspiration.

I am, because we are. That is the philosophy that has changed my life forever.

Dear Susan, You Won't Read This Post, But You are VIP to Me and All That is CWP

At 6 p.m. last night, I spread paperwork and notes across my desk as I know that JUNE IS HERE and this means the closing of 2 state grants, 2 federal grants, as well as the beginning implantation of 1 state grant and 1 federal grant. To translate this, I should simply state that this is numerical insanity.

The University expects the closing out of grants 15 days before they are due, which is interesting for CWP-Fairfield work because our work begins in July. This, coupled with the fact that state grants don't arrive until 10 months after they're awarded, giving a 2-month period for implementation is quite spastic (if not impossible).

Ah, but we make it possible. My right-hand woman in everything is Susan, Office of Sponsored Programs, who like me is down a full-time assistant. This has resulted in the fact that she and I are working 80 hours a week.

At 6 p.m. last night, I was trying to get on top of all that needs to be submitted by next Friday when I got a call. Who was it? It was Susan who was also in her office after hours, until 9 p.m., unpaid, trying to partially stay on top of all we have to do.

We are both in a panic more than ever before because there just isn't the support for the work that has to be done (I'm channeling my mother here who used to stress during budget time in CNY with her administrative duties at BOCES with State money). It's not an easy task.

Meanwhile, I know that most faculty get "summers off" and I think about them and what they are doing, especially after 14-hour days like today. It will be another one tomorrow.

In two weeks, the kids and teachers start to come and there will be no time for the budgeting - it is full-on instruction. Did I mention I also submitted an $80,000 grant tonight? I'll do whatever it takes to put resources in the hands of teachers and kids. It would be wonderful to know that there was more post-secondary support from institutions that host grant-writing faculty. For now, across campuses everywhere, individuals like me are simply stating, "This is a breaking point...the lines have been stretched much too thin." There needs to be more investment by administrations on college campuses to support the community-engaged scholarship of faculty who are investing in societal good. It cannot fall on the backs of individuals like Susan and I who are offering 30-40 hours of free labor to our campuses each week. We are covering the hours of staff that no longer exist for us.

I am thankful for my colleague and good worker Susan. No one knows the amount of work we are doing except her (and the few who also get state, federal, and foundational grants). The paperwork is tremendous - a labor of love, but an acknowledgement there needs to be a better way.

#WORDOFMOUTH18 (Cough Cough) - Great Stuff Coming to Connecticut @S_StoryFest

For incredible teachers of Connecticut, there are only a few more weeks before their 180+ school days are over (give or take a few snow days and other weather events impeding the original end dates). Most of these educators have their eyes on beaches, books, breaks, and sleeping-in time. There are others, however, that are already planning the 2018 school year. Three of these educators are phenomenal leaders in Connecticut and, I'm proud to say, all members of the Connecticut Writing Project-Fairfield.

I didn't have Rebecca Marsick in my Invitational Summer Institute, but know that a National Writing Project program is universal - they all excel. Shaun Mitchell and Kim Herzog, however, came through since I've arrived to the area. Together, they make an incredible team of suburban and urban educators providing excellence and opportunities for all of their students (especially in relation to writing and young adult literature).



Yes, Kim Herzog just had a beautiful baby girl and, yes, pregnant, she approached Jason Reynolds and Nic Stone to see if they'd be interested in this incredible vision that is the Saugatuck StoryFest. It is a two-day event with a two-day introduction through collaboration with Fairfield University, the Quick Center, Hoops4Hope, HoopsAfrica, and CWP-Fairfield. Every month when we meet with the youth board, I get more excited.

The kids exchange books like they are Pokemon cards. Actually, they would impress librarians, authors, and teachers everywhere. They are voracious with their appetites for great books and even more excited about developing their own writing skills.

U Gotta Write! A'ight?!

Last night, we had our final meeting with young people from Westport and Bridgeport Public Schools and we created an impromptu video to begin creating more excitement for the fall months ahead (one I hope will be

up and available real soon).

It must be noted that everyone is drained at this time of year, but the momentum for this extracurricular, beyond-the-call-of-duty work keeps on trucking forward. With this noted, I need to shout-out to the vision, dedication, passion, and foresight of these three English educators. They give up their time, their energy, their evenings, and their book resources to make sure that kids have powerful texts in their hands. They drive kids on nights and weekends, interact with social media to keep the nation abreast with what is going on in Connecticut, and advocate for the young adult novels they love and cherish. It is amazing to be part of their team.

Consider this a #WordOfMouth18 teaser. There is so much more to come and southern Connecticut needs to get very excited for the incredible writers coming our way!

Returning to Park City, So Amazing to See Reflection in the Eyes of Another

This is the 2nd time Chitunga, Glamis and I have done an extended weekend in Amagansett (this time, it was work-related for me). We head over through New London, and return back through Port Jefferson and Bridgeport. The angles and perspectives of the round-robin trip paints a picture of multiple Americas. On top of the PT Barnum, Chitunga walked to the railing as we approached the city he knew as home for middle and high school. He's away now, so there's nostalgia and curiosity that wasn't there before.

"It doesn't make sense," he says out loud. "There's so much possibility here."

I said and continue to say the same for Syracuse. Filling in the gaps left behind the factory flight of the 70s and 80s has left the rustbelt constantly looking for a way to reinvent itself. He's in college and thinking about this, wondering why people haven't been smarter and proactive about engaging a city plan and sustainable development. For so many traveling from the Long Island Ferry, it's interesting that their welcome to Connecticut isn't more friendly and engaging.

Of course, Chitunga reminded me that a felon was voted in as the last mayor - he's now running for Governor of the State.

I told Chitunga I get the same feeling every time I return to Syracuse. It's still my home-home ,and I love to see the changes and traditions still alive and trying to do well every time I drive back. He said,  "I feel like a stranger now to our home in Stratford, like this doesn't belong to me anymore."

It never did. That is a lesson one learns as they get older (and I'm thinking of my dad, his sister and his brother, whose parents' home showed up in a random Facebook posting the other day from the Sherburne Pageant of Bands). It all is temporary.

We made it back safe and both of us are now focused on a marathon workweek to get everything we can in order (of course, like me returning to my parents, he began his return by cleaning and rearranging his room).

So great to have the short trip once again.

A Home Away From Home Away From Home...At the Coz's (Glamis Approves)

Glamis the wonder dog lives a rough life, especially when we travel to see relatives in Syracuse and Long Island. She gets all dramatic about the travel, but upon arrival she simply jumps into the local scene (as she did yesterday when Mark an Nezi came back from a tennis lesson and decided to lay on the lawn). It was a matter of seconds before the cousin dogs attacked them and went spread eagle themselves).

The temperatures dropped and I felt like it was October in Connecticut or summer in Denmark. Great running weather, and I got a lot of reading done outside, but it was definitely chilly, especially by the ocean.

We have a lot accomplished, however, for the year ahead, especially the screening of Hoops Africa: Ubuntu Matters in the fall at Fairfield University.

Today's weather is looking cold and nasty, so we're likely to cut out stay a day short - as Tunga said, "We can go home and clean the house." (cough cough) Okay.

Also got a great dinner in with the 'tives when they made ribs, mac-n-cheese and I brought grilled broccoli, cauliflower and asparagus.

Crazy how when one gets older these occasions go by way too quickly. It seemed like we arrived, blinked, and it was time to go.

So, we'll head back to accomplish CT tasks this week (me at Fairfield and Chitunga in Stamford) and then we'll find time for a few days in Syracuse (so I can see family there, and he can finish his internship in Liverpool -- and return books).

I'm amazed by how close I live to Amagansett from Stratford, but how tricky it is to get there. We are like 45 miles away (but there's that Long Island Sound that gets in the way). I do know, though, that when we visit, I can find time to relax as much as I know how.

But Mark's girls need to stop getting older. Of course, Cynde and Casey's kids need to chill out, too.
They're all making me feel really old.

And yesterday was the official Father and Son's Day for Chitunga and I  - the anniversary of the official adoption. Wonderful to spend every second of the day with him.

Taking Advantage of the Calm, the Beauty, and the Relaxation in Amagansett

My morning started yesterday with a good cup of coffee brewed by my cousin, while I sat on his back porch playing with his rocks and sculptures, trying to find the perfect landscape for a photo. I'm not a rock sculptor, but I tried my best to build a landscape that was conducive for the Amagansett morning breakfast. It took me a while, but I think I got it.

The rest of the day was spent at H4H Board Meeting, followed by a lunch (where we got soaked with a crazy thunderstorm), followed by a long run, which was cut short because a plane went down on the beach and a rescue mission took place followed by an evening beach party.

Let's call the day surreal.

Beautiful, but surreal.

I'm not sure what to make of the Hampton's local going up in his plane with his grandchildren, only to find himself caught in the crazy storms that blew threw in the afternoon. We were out for lunch, eating outside, and when the food arrived, so did the winds, torrential downpour, lightening, and thunder. It was rough - and it was sadder that it also took down a plane of a family.

So was Saturday during our four-day getaway. It's a bit crazy. But it is what it is.

4-Day Getaway with a Board Meeting and the 'Tives, Glamis Included

Rule #1 for making a neurotic dog, start packing. Rule #2 for making her more neurotic, put the packed luggage next to her in the car. Rule #3 for making her even crazier: drive an hour to the ferry so she can taxi across waster for an hour more.

Actually, she loved the ferry part, even though she chose to sit in the seats with Chitunga which was against the rules (she was told). I was just thankful they let us inside the cabin on a rainy day so we didn't have to make it to Long Island soaking wet.

Rule #1 for why Glamis isn't meant for boats - she wants to greet and meet with everyone who walks by.

Rule #2 for Glamis on a boat, prepare others for when either Bryan or Chitunga goes to the bathroom, so they know that the odd noises coming from her mouth are the result of her fear that they will not return from their trip, leaving her stranded on the ocean's waters.

Rule #1 for arriving to cousin's house - there's total relieve when Glamis reaches her destination and then she is happy as can be playing with her cousin dog and rendezvousing with the cousin, the aunt, the uncle, and the nieces.

We have a Hoops4Hope executive board meeting this morning and then a couple of days of unwinding near the lapping waves of Amagansett. The weather prediction isn't the greatest, but without rain forecasted, we'll be okay. 

Commitment All The Way: Literacy4Life, @cwpfairfield, @fairfieldu, @hoops4HopeUSA

My first thought was to wait outside for all the middle school kids leaving Wooster Middle School. I knew I had enough needles, but I didn't have enough bodies (yes, I know that sounds strange and probably wrong). I did have, however, 100+ basketballs donated from The Rick Barry Basketball School that were donated for work with Hoops4Hope. At this moment in time two Fairfield University students are overseas in Zimbabwe doing on-the-ground work with coaches and players, make a tremendous impact through literacy and sport. I sent them with several books (including those written by Kwame Alexander) and they brought over their passion, intelligence and skills.

Yet, how was I going to deflate all these basketballs so they would fit in my car to bring over to Long Island for their trip to Africa?

I thought I'd recruit middle school students walking home (or asking the parents of several of my neighbors). The more the merrier, right?

Alas, my day began at 7:30 a.m. (Committee on the Board of Trustees meeting) at Fairfield University and I didn't end up back home until 8 p.m. (Guns in the Hands of Artists opening night).

All day I worked with phenomenal graduate students from the Graduate School of Education to mail out the 2017 (yes, I know it's 2018) edition of Power of Words, the anthology of student writing that has been edited over the last year (phenomenal pieces written last summer). We stuffed almost 200 envelopes, put stickers on a note, labeled addresses to and from, and got them to the post office by 2 p.m. - I should also mention that my summer supplies were delivered by truck yesterday morning and I spent the first few hours after my first meeting, putting supplies away).  The graduate students got into the swing of things and I told them they were like the workers who were hired to find a Golden Ticket for Varuka Salts. We even got the post office staff working in our rhythm. We accomplished a lot quickly. I am thrilled to say, POW! is in the mail and it is wonderful.

I managed to get a haircut, too. Don't ask.

Meanwhile, I went to the art exhibit (more to come) that debuted at the Walsh Gallery in the Quick Center. Last week, I worked with 140 8th grade students in Greenwich who wrote in response to what they wanted to #UNLOAD (and who, a group of them, were asked to perform at last night's opening). The show is amazing.

But, at 8 p.m., when I got home, I knew I had a task at hand. I missed the middle school students. It was too late. I looked to my phone to see if Chitunga texted about what time he'd be home from college and, lucky for me, he pulled in the driveway. We unpacked his car for an hour and then began the basketball deflation. I had four pump needles, so we got quite the assembly line going. By 11, we ordered pizza and finished bagging our last deflated ball.

Phew! This is for the love of literacy. The love for Literacy4Life. The love for Hoops4Hope and the ways sports, reading and writing go hand in hand.

Big CWP day, and now we drive these deflated basketballs to Amagansett for the weekend, where there's a Board meeting to attend, followed by some sand on the toes.