A student of mine made this little video for a class that she is taking on digital media. I thought I'd share it in case anyone is interested in learning more about my scholarship (or seeing my office).
Keep sweeping, Martha
Showing posts with label teaching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teaching. Show all posts
3.29.2015
my five minutes
A student of mine made this little video for a class that she is taking on digital media. I thought I'd share it in case anyone is interested in learning more about my scholarship (or seeing my office).
Keep sweeping, Martha
7.29.2014
blackout
Remember last summer? The summer of leaning back? Well, suffice it to say that the Summer of 2014 is a far cry from that.* It's been a bit of a grind. This administrative position, which I am so ill-suited for, has been stealing away the tranquil moments of last summer, the bubble blowing and popsicle eating. It's tough. And I'm not happy with it. But, I'm trudging onward.
It's times like these when you just want to curl up on your bed and draw the shades.
When we moved Boy Beeton to the guest room, we had reservations. The move made sense because the room was bigger, and it didn't have a shared wall with our neighbors. But, it's also in the back of the house and gets a lot of sun. In the winter, it sometimes feels like a greenhouse in there, all steamy and warm.
I knew, if we were to see past 6:30 am, we needed some serious blackout curtains. I looked online and found this tutorial. I had bought white fabric ages ago in the hopes of making curtains for our guest room, which looked like this:
But, I never got around to it. Instead, I used the white fabric as the base for Boy Beeton's curtains, and I edged them in this orange fabric, which looks curiously like a pair of shorts I own (channeling my inner Maria, I guess):
I ordered blackout fabric and cut it to size. I dug out some old curtain clips that we had bought on clearance when West Elm downtown closed and hung everything together. You wouldn't believe how well they work. The sun tries its best to sneak through, but these curtains are unstoppable.
Boy Beeton's room is now the ultimate place to curl up and shut out the rest of the world. That's probably why - when I'm laying in there at night as Boy Beeton falls asleep - that I fall asleep too. I'm blaming the curtains.
Keep sweeping, Martha
* Borrowing R's asterisk technique. Don't worry about me too much. We did manage to get to the pop shop, and we have blown our share of bubbles. Our friends from Savannah came to visit, and we also snuck in quick trips to Deep Creek Lake, Raleigh, and Annapolis. And, last night was glorious - dinner and a movie with a dear friend.
Watched Boyhood.
It's times like these when you just want to curl up on your bed and draw the shades.
When we moved Boy Beeton to the guest room, we had reservations. The move made sense because the room was bigger, and it didn't have a shared wall with our neighbors. But, it's also in the back of the house and gets a lot of sun. In the winter, it sometimes feels like a greenhouse in there, all steamy and warm.
I knew, if we were to see past 6:30 am, we needed some serious blackout curtains. I looked online and found this tutorial. I had bought white fabric ages ago in the hopes of making curtains for our guest room, which looked like this:
But, I never got around to it. Instead, I used the white fabric as the base for Boy Beeton's curtains, and I edged them in this orange fabric, which looks curiously like a pair of shorts I own (channeling my inner Maria, I guess):
I ordered blackout fabric and cut it to size. I dug out some old curtain clips that we had bought on clearance when West Elm downtown closed and hung everything together. You wouldn't believe how well they work. The sun tries its best to sneak through, but these curtains are unstoppable.
Boy Beeton's room is now the ultimate place to curl up and shut out the rest of the world. That's probably why - when I'm laying in there at night as Boy Beeton falls asleep - that I fall asleep too. I'm blaming the curtains.
Keep sweeping, Martha
* Borrowing R's asterisk technique. Don't worry about me too much. We did manage to get to the pop shop, and we have blown our share of bubbles. Our friends from Savannah came to visit, and we also snuck in quick trips to Deep Creek Lake, Raleigh, and Annapolis. And, last night was glorious - dinner and a movie with a dear friend.
Watched Boyhood.
3.25.2014
the cruelest month
Things have not been going very smoothly over here at the Beeton household. Right now, we have this tally... Bridget Jones' style.
1 new car, 1 new car sideswiped
1 experiment completed, 1 cold room heat-up, resulting in the combustion of said experiment
1 stressed out toddler who "Doesn't want to go to the nanny share!!!!"
1 momma who is trying to juggle teaching her class, being a competent administrator, and writing an academic analysis of Betty Draper's parenting practices for a conference next week
And it's snowing. Again.
That's why - no matter what - on the only nice day in a while, you just have to head to Brookside Gardens. A little green makes everyone better.
Even if it was followed by projectile vomitting in the backseat of the new car on the way home.
Keep shoveling.
Martha
1 new car, 1 new car sideswiped
1 experiment completed, 1 cold room heat-up, resulting in the combustion of said experiment
1 stressed out toddler who "Doesn't want to go to the nanny share!!!!"
1 momma who is trying to juggle teaching her class, being a competent administrator, and writing an academic analysis of Betty Draper's parenting practices for a conference next week
And it's snowing. Again.
That's why - no matter what - on the only nice day in a while, you just have to head to Brookside Gardens. A little green makes everyone better.
Even if it was followed by projectile vomitting in the backseat of the new car on the way home.
Keep shoveling.
Martha
4.28.2013
the art of distraction
Well, it's that time of the semester again. I am staring down a pile of 12-15 page research projects along with a slew of rewrites. The carrots that I've placed in front of me to give me motivation are as follows:
From thisoldhouse.com
From houzz.com
From babble.com
Wish me luck.
Keep sweeping, Martha
10.13.2012
lunch is the new dinner
Dearest, dearest readers. I don't know what kind of voodoo magic you all have been doing on our behalf but whatever it is I thank you for it. Following that last post, we entered a divine week of really, really good sleep. And, as a result, I had been feeling like a million bucks. Of course, minor disruptions have set in again, but the memory of that week keeps me going.
I think another mood booster has been our commencement of "Date Fridays." Fridays originally began as a day devoted to work. It's the day when our babysitter C (who's so wonderful!) spends the afternoon with Baby Beeton, and it was our intention to spend the four hours that she's here working on whatever it is that we need to do (thinning plants, writing grants, revising chapters, assembling promotion materials - yikes!). But, after the first few weeks, we realized that all this work could be done outside of our home, that we could actually leave and return when her shift was done. So, we began going out to lunch and then heading somewhere to do work. This past Friday, we went to Busboys and Poets, and in weeks past, we've gone to Takoma Bistro, Adega, and Wasabi. And, we've found ourselves typing away in the Silver Spring Whole Foods, the Stamp Student Union, and the McKeldin Library. It's been the best way to end the work week and begin the weekend.
We even managed to sneak in a dinner date. We had intended to use a gift certificate we received for Christmas from two years ago (thanks K & B) to Marvin in the U. Street Corridor a few weeks ago. But instead, we spent the evening in the veterinary hospital with Ella who was attacked by a nasty, nasty dog on the Sligo Creek Trail (I'd love to track down the dog's owner who walked away rather quickly after the vicious attack and who most likely lives in one of those mansions lining the parkway... it would give me great satisfaction to present him with the $2000 bill!). Once Ella - and we - recovered, we decided to try again, and thanks to Grammy and Papa who came to sit with Henry, we were able to not only have a terrific meal but also join our friend E for her 30th birthday. I can't say that I've ever had a cocktail as delicious as the one I had that night (even if it cost $12 and took me 20 minutes to get). Unfortunately, I can't remember the name and googling "champagne" and "marvin" has produced ridiculous results.
In any case, that's a brief update from here. I realize that I'm long overdue for a post about Baby Beeton, but in order to do that, I need some photographs so that you can see our growing boy in all his glory (maybe today... we're headed to the pumpkin patch). Let me just say that lately, I feel a lot like I live in a zoo - "minou, minou, quack, quack, woof, woof."
Keep sweeping, Martha
Watched What to Expect When You're Expecting and Conception. (I realize that there's a theme here, but don't worry, dear readers, it means nothing. Believe me.)
I think another mood booster has been our commencement of "Date Fridays." Fridays originally began as a day devoted to work. It's the day when our babysitter C (who's so wonderful!) spends the afternoon with Baby Beeton, and it was our intention to spend the four hours that she's here working on whatever it is that we need to do (thinning plants, writing grants, revising chapters, assembling promotion materials - yikes!). But, after the first few weeks, we realized that all this work could be done outside of our home, that we could actually leave and return when her shift was done. So, we began going out to lunch and then heading somewhere to do work. This past Friday, we went to Busboys and Poets, and in weeks past, we've gone to Takoma Bistro, Adega, and Wasabi. And, we've found ourselves typing away in the Silver Spring Whole Foods, the Stamp Student Union, and the McKeldin Library. It's been the best way to end the work week and begin the weekend.
We even managed to sneak in a dinner date. We had intended to use a gift certificate we received for Christmas from two years ago (thanks K & B) to Marvin in the U. Street Corridor a few weeks ago. But instead, we spent the evening in the veterinary hospital with Ella who was attacked by a nasty, nasty dog on the Sligo Creek Trail (I'd love to track down the dog's owner who walked away rather quickly after the vicious attack and who most likely lives in one of those mansions lining the parkway... it would give me great satisfaction to present him with the $2000 bill!). Once Ella - and we - recovered, we decided to try again, and thanks to Grammy and Papa who came to sit with Henry, we were able to not only have a terrific meal but also join our friend E for her 30th birthday. I can't say that I've ever had a cocktail as delicious as the one I had that night (even if it cost $12 and took me 20 minutes to get). Unfortunately, I can't remember the name and googling "champagne" and "marvin" has produced ridiculous results.
In any case, that's a brief update from here. I realize that I'm long overdue for a post about Baby Beeton, but in order to do that, I need some photographs so that you can see our growing boy in all his glory (maybe today... we're headed to the pumpkin patch). Let me just say that lately, I feel a lot like I live in a zoo - "minou, minou, quack, quack, woof, woof."
Keep sweeping, Martha
Watched What to Expect When You're Expecting and Conception. (I realize that there's a theme here, but don't worry, dear readers, it means nothing. Believe me.)
9.18.2012
i went to sleep with gum in my mouth and now there's gum in my hair
Oh my. Things have been rough at the Beeton household as of late.
Have you ever read this book?
Lately, I feel as though I've been living it. Terrible. Horrible. No good. Very Bad.
If sleeplessness were as compelling a topic for everyone else as it is for me, I'd be on my way to writing my very own saga - think Twilight or Fifty Shades of Grey without the vampires or sadomasochism lite. But, unfortunately, tales of 4:45 am awakenings - complete with smiles and the practicing of new words - does not make for riveting drama, beyond the walls of our home, of course.
When Baby Beeton started walking, people told me to relax. Now would be the time that he'd really sleep like a log. He'd be so tired from racing around the house that he wouldn't be able to keep his eyes open come bedtime.
Well, I'm sorry "experienced" mothers. That's not the case at our house. Instead, we've got a wide-eyed baby boy come 1 am, 2 am, even 3 am, awake and ready to start practicing his steps.
It seems as though we have come to a crossroads. Up until this point, we've resisted any kind of sleep training, but it looks like Baby Beeton might need a little coaching in the falling-back-to-sleep-on-your-own department. Both Mr. Beeton and I agree that we want to minimize the crying - for our sake and his - so we'll be trying the go in, soothe, go out method. But we are going to try to stop rocking him until he falls asleep again. It's not doing any of us any good, I'm afraid.
Of course, all this sleeplessness colors each and every day. Forgetting your umbrella, jamming the copier, being completely ill-prepared for class - these all seem so much more catastrophic when you're operating on less than the ideal amount of sleep. (What's ideal you ask? For me, nine hours. Yup. That's how many hours I slept straight each and every night before Baby Beeton arrived. Maybe that's why this has been so tough.) It's hard to take a deep breath sometimes and laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation (having to borrow an umbrella of a student to run across the quad and make copies on the copier that you hopelessly jammed earlier for all your colleagues and which hopefully by now is fixed or you don't have a lesson plan).
Thank goodness for caramel lattes, crazy splashing in the bathtub, the public library, and Ella's pouches. It's the little things that make the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad a little bit better.
That and at least nine hours. Cross your fingers for me.
Keep sweeping, Martha
Have you ever read this book?
Lately, I feel as though I've been living it. Terrible. Horrible. No good. Very Bad.
If sleeplessness were as compelling a topic for everyone else as it is for me, I'd be on my way to writing my very own saga - think Twilight or Fifty Shades of Grey without the vampires or sadomasochism lite. But, unfortunately, tales of 4:45 am awakenings - complete with smiles and the practicing of new words - does not make for riveting drama, beyond the walls of our home, of course.
When Baby Beeton started walking, people told me to relax. Now would be the time that he'd really sleep like a log. He'd be so tired from racing around the house that he wouldn't be able to keep his eyes open come bedtime.
Well, I'm sorry "experienced" mothers. That's not the case at our house. Instead, we've got a wide-eyed baby boy come 1 am, 2 am, even 3 am, awake and ready to start practicing his steps.
It seems as though we have come to a crossroads. Up until this point, we've resisted any kind of sleep training, but it looks like Baby Beeton might need a little coaching in the falling-back-to-sleep-on-your-own department. Both Mr. Beeton and I agree that we want to minimize the crying - for our sake and his - so we'll be trying the go in, soothe, go out method. But we are going to try to stop rocking him until he falls asleep again. It's not doing any of us any good, I'm afraid.
Of course, all this sleeplessness colors each and every day. Forgetting your umbrella, jamming the copier, being completely ill-prepared for class - these all seem so much more catastrophic when you're operating on less than the ideal amount of sleep. (What's ideal you ask? For me, nine hours. Yup. That's how many hours I slept straight each and every night before Baby Beeton arrived. Maybe that's why this has been so tough.) It's hard to take a deep breath sometimes and laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation (having to borrow an umbrella of a student to run across the quad and make copies on the copier that you hopelessly jammed earlier for all your colleagues and which hopefully by now is fixed or you don't have a lesson plan).
Thank goodness for caramel lattes, crazy splashing in the bathtub, the public library, and Ella's pouches. It's the little things that make the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad a little bit better.
That and at least nine hours. Cross your fingers for me.
Keep sweeping, Martha
8.08.2012
rumble
Those of you who are loyal readers already know that two impending deadlines are fast approaching. The first marks the end of my fifteen month leave from teaching (one semester of family leave, one semester of sabbatical, two summers) - August 21st. The second is the upcoming deadline for my book project (don't get too excited... it's a scholarly analysis of food writing) - September 1st. In order to get things done and not crack up entirely, I'll be taking a little break from all things distracting - mainly the Internet.
But, I thought before I departed I would leave you with a photograph of the newest member of our family - Rusty James. Mr. Beeton tells me that Rusty was a stowaway who magically appeared in his school bag one day after being used as a model for one of the science summer camp sessions. As you can see, Mr. Beeton's made it quite nice for him here on Quackenbos Street, not to mention that someone else is quite taken with the PISH as well.
Keep sweeping, Martha
But, I thought before I departed I would leave you with a photograph of the newest member of our family - Rusty James. Mr. Beeton tells me that Rusty was a stowaway who magically appeared in his school bag one day after being used as a model for one of the science summer camp sessions. As you can see, Mr. Beeton's made it quite nice for him here on Quackenbos Street, not to mention that someone else is quite taken with the PISH as well.
Keep sweeping, Martha
4.26.2011
do not panic
The other night I had a mini-meltdown. I knew it was coming. Instead of being my usual moody self these past seven or so months, I've actually been quite content. It's like this pregnancy has given me happy hormones, which I love. But, the other night I lost it.
I think it's just been the increasing level of stress. It's the end of the semester. I've had research deadlines to meet. I've had papers to grades. And, we've had lots and lots of people giving us advice, which we haven't necessarily asked for. I know everyone means well, but sometimes, you've just got to let a girl and guy and a dog figure out their own way.
So, when I grabbed a pan off the stove that was filled with water (unbeknownst to me) and sausage grease, spilling it all over our already pretty disgusting (aesthetically and cleanliness-wise) kitchen floor, I kind of freaked. All of the sudden the hideous dining room light fixture, the half-painted nursery, and the partially completed guest room seemed too much to handle. I kept thinking, "I cannot bring Baby Beeton back here. We'll have to stay at The Hay-Adams for at least the first six months."
Nevermind that until Sunday night, we had made some good progress - especially for a pair of notorious procrastinators. We'd taken a breastfeeding class at the Breastfeeding Center of D.C. and signed up for a pumping class and an infant care class there in the next few weeks (what can I say? I'm a teacher... I love classes). We'd ordered our crib. I've been keeping up with my prenatal yoga classes (which I love ) at Lil Omm. We'd taken our labor and delivery class. And, we'd toured the hospital. Not to mention we'd scheduled an appointment with our pediatrician. But none of that mattered to me when faced with a greasy kitchen floor.
Today, though, things seem much better. I have only nineteen, 15-page research projects to go and only twenty-six rewrites left to grade. We've come up with a plan for finishing the nursery. And, today was the last day of classes for me until Fall 2012. So, really, what's a little grease on the kitchen floor, right?
Keep sweeping, Martha
I think it's just been the increasing level of stress. It's the end of the semester. I've had research deadlines to meet. I've had papers to grades. And, we've had lots and lots of people giving us advice, which we haven't necessarily asked for. I know everyone means well, but sometimes, you've just got to let a girl and guy and a dog figure out their own way.
So, when I grabbed a pan off the stove that was filled with water (unbeknownst to me) and sausage grease, spilling it all over our already pretty disgusting (aesthetically and cleanliness-wise) kitchen floor, I kind of freaked. All of the sudden the hideous dining room light fixture, the half-painted nursery, and the partially completed guest room seemed too much to handle. I kept thinking, "I cannot bring Baby Beeton back here. We'll have to stay at The Hay-Adams for at least the first six months."
Nevermind that until Sunday night, we had made some good progress - especially for a pair of notorious procrastinators. We'd taken a breastfeeding class at the Breastfeeding Center of D.C. and signed up for a pumping class and an infant care class there in the next few weeks (what can I say? I'm a teacher... I love classes). We'd ordered our crib. I've been keeping up with my prenatal yoga classes (which I love ) at Lil Omm. We'd taken our labor and delivery class. And, we'd toured the hospital. Not to mention we'd scheduled an appointment with our pediatrician. But none of that mattered to me when faced with a greasy kitchen floor.
Today, though, things seem much better. I have only nineteen, 15-page research projects to go and only twenty-six rewrites left to grade. We've come up with a plan for finishing the nursery. And, today was the last day of classes for me until Fall 2012. So, really, what's a little grease on the kitchen floor, right?
Keep sweeping, Martha
2.23.2011
it's the little things
Last week, we had some unseasonably warm weather in D.C. Of course, yesterday, we had ice and snow, but that brief burst of spring reminded me that it won't be long before it stays lighter in the evening and ballet flats will replace the knock-off Uggs.
Lately, I've been appreciating all kinds of little things. It's been hard to get anything big accomplished on the house with the semester having starting (though we did make some significant progress on the living room and guest room - for pictures, see here). And, though we'd like to spend our days researching baby gears and shopping for baby, grading lab reports and papers, planning classes, and updating announcements on Blackboard have taken over our days and nights.
But, despite our preoccupation with all things undergraduate, there's been a slew of little things making us happy lately - an independent study lunch at The Tabbard Inn, Lil Omm yoga, a fabulous 90th birthday party in Pennsylvania, flutters and kicks, Pizza Movers, a first trip to Babies R Us with Nana Beeton, all things housewives, maternity jeans from Old Navy, Valentine's Day dinner at Mrs. K's Tollhouse, aromatherapy candles, a brand new Roku, Baby Bargains book, raincoats with treehoppers, bugaboo strollers, Sala Thai.
Keep sweeping, Martha
Watched The Social Network and Georgy Girl.
Lately, I've been appreciating all kinds of little things. It's been hard to get anything big accomplished on the house with the semester having starting (though we did make some significant progress on the living room and guest room - for pictures, see here). And, though we'd like to spend our days researching baby gears and shopping for baby, grading lab reports and papers, planning classes, and updating announcements on Blackboard have taken over our days and nights.
But, despite our preoccupation with all things undergraduate, there's been a slew of little things making us happy lately - an independent study lunch at The Tabbard Inn, Lil Omm yoga, a fabulous 90th birthday party in Pennsylvania, flutters and kicks, Pizza Movers, a first trip to Babies R Us with Nana Beeton, all things housewives, maternity jeans from Old Navy, Valentine's Day dinner at Mrs. K's Tollhouse, aromatherapy candles, a brand new Roku, Baby Bargains book, raincoats with treehoppers, bugaboo strollers, Sala Thai.
Keep sweeping, Martha
Watched The Social Network and Georgy Girl.
10.24.2010
abbondanza
I'm re-reading Plenty today in preparation for a paper that I'll be giving at the Mid-Atlantic Popular/American Culture Association conference in Alexandria, Virginia this weekend. The book, which chronicles the local eating adventures of J.B. MacKinnon and Alisa Smith in Vancouver, far surpasses Barbara Kingsolver's local eating manifesto. Don't get me wrong. I love me some Kingsolver, but this co-written memoir is more deftly written, in my opinion, and much more compelling on a number of levels.
We've been in a rut here on Quackenbos. In part because it's that time of the semester when students seem a little less patient (and sometimes even less kind), when the work just piles up (preliminary exams, grants, grading, applications for sabbatical), and when the air starts to get a bit colder promising that winter is on its way. To add insult to injury, we've been feeling a bit under the weather, our appetites not what they used to be. What we needed was a little reminder of the plenty that still surrounds us in fall.
I headed up to the Takoma Park Farmers' Market this morning. Mr. Beeton was studying, but I needed some apples. Correction. I needed some apples, some cucumbers, the last of the garden fresh tomatoes, some sourdough bread, some sweet potatoes, and some string beans. $45 worth of fresh produce. Totally worth it. I toasted the sour dough bread and smothered it with tomatoes, garlic, basil from our garden, oregano, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar. I mashed up the sweet potatoes, melted some butter on top, and sprinkled them with salt. I made applesauce according to Laurie Colwin's directions (another author I'll be talking about in my paper). And tonight, we'll make a modification of Rachel Ray's tomato soup accompanied with grilled cheese on sourdough bread (of course).
Slowly, the stresses of fall are fading away. We've got plenty of other things to occupy our time.
Keep sweeping, Martha
We've been in a rut here on Quackenbos. In part because it's that time of the semester when students seem a little less patient (and sometimes even less kind), when the work just piles up (preliminary exams, grants, grading, applications for sabbatical), and when the air starts to get a bit colder promising that winter is on its way. To add insult to injury, we've been feeling a bit under the weather, our appetites not what they used to be. What we needed was a little reminder of the plenty that still surrounds us in fall.
I headed up to the Takoma Park Farmers' Market this morning. Mr. Beeton was studying, but I needed some apples. Correction. I needed some apples, some cucumbers, the last of the garden fresh tomatoes, some sourdough bread, some sweet potatoes, and some string beans. $45 worth of fresh produce. Totally worth it. I toasted the sour dough bread and smothered it with tomatoes, garlic, basil from our garden, oregano, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar. I mashed up the sweet potatoes, melted some butter on top, and sprinkled them with salt. I made applesauce according to Laurie Colwin's directions (another author I'll be talking about in my paper). And tonight, we'll make a modification of Rachel Ray's tomato soup accompanied with grilled cheese on sourdough bread (of course).
Slowly, the stresses of fall are fading away. We've got plenty of other things to occupy our time.
Keep sweeping, Martha
3.16.2010
race around the track
When I finished up with graduate school, the number one question I got asked by people in academia was, "Did you get a tenure track job?" I didn't, and I didn't care. My job pretty much has all the perks of tenure. I can become an associate professor, if I like, and I can also become a full professor, if I work hard enough. I scoffed at the naysayers. After all, they were the ones who said I couldn't write a dissertation on chick lit. I'd show them. I'm always happiest at the margins.
Until yesterday... when my reappointment files were due. Since I don't have a tenure track job, I have to reapply for my job every three years, which means writing a teaching statement, a research statement, and a service statement as well as compiling an enormous pile of extraneous material including past syllabi, writing assignments, and student samples. Since I take my job seriously (and since March marked the start of Women's History Month and our "capstone" event for our program), I patiently waited until the start of Spring Break on Friday afternoon at 5 pm to begin compiling these documents. It took forever. Forever.
Only now am I emerging from this trauma. The sad thing is that I just wanted to get it all done so that I could have some time to grade. That's what spring break is for, right? Okay... I lie. My calendar is also filled with doctor's appointments, a haircut, and having my taxes done. I'm looking forward to a slight reprieve at the end of the week when we head to the sandy beaches of the Lehigh Valley.
P.S. - A big welcome to Baby B! So glad you could make it in time for St. Patrick's Day!
Watched The Informant. Re-watched half of The Talented Mr. Ripley. Still watching Weeds: Season 5.
Until yesterday... when my reappointment files were due. Since I don't have a tenure track job, I have to reapply for my job every three years, which means writing a teaching statement, a research statement, and a service statement as well as compiling an enormous pile of extraneous material including past syllabi, writing assignments, and student samples. Since I take my job seriously (and since March marked the start of Women's History Month and our "capstone" event for our program), I patiently waited until the start of Spring Break on Friday afternoon at 5 pm to begin compiling these documents. It took forever. Forever.
Only now am I emerging from this trauma. The sad thing is that I just wanted to get it all done so that I could have some time to grade. That's what spring break is for, right? Okay... I lie. My calendar is also filled with doctor's appointments, a haircut, and having my taxes done. I'm looking forward to a slight reprieve at the end of the week when we head to the sandy beaches of the Lehigh Valley.
P.S. - A big welcome to Baby B! So glad you could make it in time for St. Patrick's Day!
Watched The Informant. Re-watched half of The Talented Mr. Ripley. Still watching Weeds: Season 5.
1.18.2010
surf's up
This semester has gotten off to a particularly rocky start.
I'm teaching three classes on two different themes this semester, which, in general, I'm very excited about. Two of the classes are themed around women and food, and the third class is about Mad Men. I'd envisioned a pretty enjoyable spring, reading Diana Abu-Jaber and contemplating Peggy and Peter's relationship.
But, due to a series of events outside of my control, I've had to rewrite the syllabus for all two of the classes that I am teaching this semester. Now, for most people, this wouldn't be a problem. But, in our program, we're required to have about ten pages of front matter. This, in combination with my own obsessive-compulsive desire to start every new semester off with a clear sense of my overall trajectory, makes for a fifteen-page syllabus when you add in my detailed calendar. Now, I'm in the process of reworking all my dates to accommodate the demands of "the Others."
When Friday hit, I needed to visit Surfside. This summer, when all was right with the world, we'd go there about once a week. They have all kinds of delicious food and even more delicious margaritas. And, the best part about it is that we can walk with Ella down to Wisconsin Avenue to pick it up. If we call on the way, it's ready when we get there. I ordered the Nevis; Mr. Beeton ordered the Andros. It felt like summer when we ate.
Perhaps all this beginning-of-the-semester stress is compounded by the fact that we began our house hunting yesterday. The most memorable house - the one with the creepy horror movie music coming from upstairs. The quote of the day - from our realtor who said, "I feel like I'm going to get shot," in the same house.
Keep sweeping - especially when you can't see through the dust, Martha
Watched 9 and The Proposal.
I'm teaching three classes on two different themes this semester, which, in general, I'm very excited about. Two of the classes are themed around women and food, and the third class is about Mad Men. I'd envisioned a pretty enjoyable spring, reading Diana Abu-Jaber and contemplating Peggy and Peter's relationship.
But, due to a series of events outside of my control, I've had to rewrite the syllabus for all two of the classes that I am teaching this semester. Now, for most people, this wouldn't be a problem. But, in our program, we're required to have about ten pages of front matter. This, in combination with my own obsessive-compulsive desire to start every new semester off with a clear sense of my overall trajectory, makes for a fifteen-page syllabus when you add in my detailed calendar. Now, I'm in the process of reworking all my dates to accommodate the demands of "the Others."
When Friday hit, I needed to visit Surfside. This summer, when all was right with the world, we'd go there about once a week. They have all kinds of delicious food and even more delicious margaritas. And, the best part about it is that we can walk with Ella down to Wisconsin Avenue to pick it up. If we call on the way, it's ready when we get there. I ordered the Nevis; Mr. Beeton ordered the Andros. It felt like summer when we ate.
Perhaps all this beginning-of-the-semester stress is compounded by the fact that we began our house hunting yesterday. The most memorable house - the one with the creepy horror movie music coming from upstairs. The quote of the day - from our realtor who said, "I feel like I'm going to get shot," in the same house.
Keep sweeping - especially when you can't see through the dust, Martha
Watched 9 and The Proposal.
1.13.2010
11.05.2009
brushing the dusky window
Fall is here. It's chillier. The sun feels different. It's dark when my last class ends at 5:30 pm. Halloween came and went. With homemade costumes and trick-or-treat.
And now, we're headed - full force - into the most hectic time of the semester. Students are frantically researching, furiously writing, and often sighing loudly when I ask, "And how are you adding to the conversation?" Soon it will be Thanksgiving. Their papers will be done, and life will get a lot simpler.
Generally speaking, I don't care for colder weather. I like summer. The hotter, the better. But, I do love food in the fall, particularly this Chickpea Hot Pot recipe from 101 Cookbooks. It's one of the best vegetarian recipes I've ever eaten, too. And, since I know one of my only loyal readers doesn't touch meat, I thought it was a doubly appropriate post for November.
Don't try this one in summer. It just tastes weird; I'm not sure why. We made it the other night after crunching through the leaves with Ella. Perfect for fall.
Keep sweeping, Martha
Trying to read Twilight. Took about 15 college students to see Where the Wild Things Are.
9.24.2009
daily sweets
This week started off with a bang and is ending with a whimper, thankfully.
This summer, I wrote about how author, Joanne Rendell, contacted me about reading an advanced copy of her book, Crossing Washington Square. Monday night, we were very honored to host her on our campus for a reading. While the event itself went fabulously, the days leading up to her visit were not so smooth. They included a realization on Friday that no food had been ordered for the reception and a trip on Sunday to Georgetown Cupcake to cut in front of a crazy-long line to pick up three dozen of their tasty treats.
The madness was worth it, though. Joanne agreed to eat dinner with a few students at Figs on MacArthur Boulevard before heading over to her reading. She talked for a bit about the novel then called on a few eager students to assist her with the reading. Afterwards, the audience asked questions, enjoyed the cupcakes, and chatted informally with each other and with Joanne. Quite a few of my students came, as I had hoped. They read a piece ("Unschooling") in class by Joanne and were excited to see the face behind the words. The next night, I took a few up to the Borders in Friendship Heights where Joanne gave a repeat performance.
After the first event, I had a student email me to say that she had never before met an author whom she had to read in class. Her email ended with the declaration, "I love college." The second night, a male student (mind you, I teach a course themed around women's autobiography and, very often, my male students are a little disgruntled) told me that another male student, who had attended the reading the first night, texted him to say that it was "totally worth it" and that he should head up to the Borders if he had time. Sometimes, students can be so sweet.
The cupcakes, though... they were definitely the icing on a truly terrific two days.
Thanks, Joanne!
Keep sweeping, Martha
Watching Real Housewives of Atlanta and The Rachel Zoe Project. Not reading fast enough.
9.10.2009
missin' the kitchen
Watched I Love You, Man, Coraline, Obsessed, the first 10 minutes of Gigli (rhymes with really), and Adventureland (4 stars).
8.26.2009
mastering the art of the slow cooker
School starts. Monday. I can't believe how incredibly sad I am to see summer go. And how much summer stuff I still want to do. But, it's time to shift gears, make syllabi, attend faculty retreats.
Mr. Beeton and I tried our hand at some crockpot cooking in preparation for the school year ahead. For our wedding, we received an obscene, All-Clad Deluxe Slow Cooker (not on our registry). I was incensed. We have very little room in our railroad apartment for pots and pans, let alone a slow cooker that could easily feed twenty. Plus, I already had a lovely, small crockpot that my grandmother had given me. Mr. Beeton didn't want to exchange a gift we received for cash; he felt strongly about it. So, we kept it, and I fumed, frequently bringing it up in arguments that we'd have, even if those arguments weren't about slow cookers.
But, I made peace with it last winter. It's actually a fabulous way to cook a meal when you don't have a lot of time, and plus, it provides us with plenty of leftovers. During the school year, this is particularly ideal, so we are planning to put a slow-cooked meal into our regular weeknight rotation.
The recipe we tried the other night came from one of my mother's magazines. Overall, it turned out well, but I'd recommend adding an extra apple and, if you have the Super-Deluxe slow cooker, toning down the cooking time. Ours got a little mushy after six hours. Start it in the morning and eat it in the evening. That gives you a whole lot of time in between to work on that syllabus.
Keep sweeping, Martha
Watching Entourage: Season Five.
6.26.2009
sweet and sour
As I may have mentioned, while I'm a homekeeper at heart, I'm an academic by day and spend most of the year teaching and writing about women's literature. With academia comes highs and lows - as with any job, I suspect. This summer (so far), I've been on one long high (despite the revise and resubmit letter I received today for an article about Sylvia Plath that I have written), working on a new project about food writing, specifically the work of women food writers.
While I suspected this summer would be all about reading about eating, it started off with a reminder that I haven't left my old love of chick lit behind. In early May, I received an email from Joanne Rendell, whose written a new book entitled Crossing Washington Square. Her work, from what I gathered, was chick lit about academics, which, of course, immediately appealed to me. And, her new novel, which will be released in early fall, is about a chick lit scholar and a Sylvia Plath scholar who find themselves at odds and are forced to confront some misconceptions that they have about one another and the literature they love. Joanne contacted me to see if I'd be interested in reading an advanced copy. Of course! I replied.
You see Sylvia Plath was the author who really launched my whole graduate career. I had enrolled in graduate school in English only because I desperately wanted to complete a Museum Studies degree and work in the education department of a museum upon graduating. At the graduate school that I attended, you were only allowed to receive a certificate in Museum Studies if you were enrolled in a degree program. I picked English because I loved to read. Naive, I know.
Something curious happened, though, as I sat in on classes and began to teach. I found out that I really wanted to be a professor. And I found myself thinking critically about literature in a way that I never had before. I wrote a paper on Sylvia Plath and The Bell Jar (which I've since revised more times than I can count and which is the ill-fated essay that I spoke of earlier); I got interested in food and literature; and I discovered chick lit - a contemporary women's genre which is all about consumption (food, sex, shopping). Despite discouraging remarks from an older, female faculty member who noted I'd never get anywhere writing about "beach reading" (shame on her! bad feminist!), I wrote my dissertation on chick lit, looking at British and American novels - from Bridget Jones's Diary to The Cigarette Girl - and analyzing the way in which the books engaged with consumer culture, particularly women's advice manuals. So, I found it freaky when Joanne said her new novel was about a Plath scholar and a chick lit scholar - my self, split, it seemed. But, her book wasn't freaky at all. It's actually very, very good and speaks - on a fictional level - to a lot of the issues that I discuss in my own work.
So... how did I arrive at food memoirs this summer? In my disseration (which later turned into a book - out in paperback this month!), I had a chapter devoted to domestic-advice publications, like Martha Stewart's Living. My current project is slowly growing out of that chapter as I search for interesting food memoirs to read and write about. I've got a whole stack in my back room right now that I'm waiting to devour. It should prove to be quite a yummy summer.
Keep sweeping, Martha
Finished reading The Professors' Wives' Club and Crossing Washington Square by Joanne Rendell. Also read Shark's Fin and Sichuan Pepper: A Sweet-Sour Memoir of Eating in China by Fuschia Dunlop.
4.30.2009
dust monsters
Ever heard of dust bunnies? Well, we've got dust monsters. They are huge, and they are growing under every piece of furniture in our apartment - the telephone table, the record player, the tea cart. It's disgusting. I want to get rid of them... I honestly do, but I don't have the time. I'm working my way through a stack of papers. And, when I'm done, that's when I'll go head-to-head with the dusty monsters.
Keep sweeping, Martha
Watched I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry.
4.19.2009
delicious
Let me confess. This weekend did not start out so well. It's the end of the semester, so I've got research projects to grade and source packets to sift through. Plus, I allowed myself to be convinced by a colleague that allowing students to do an optional rewrite of one of their earlier papers was a good idea. "Hardly anyone ever takes me up on it," she claimed. "But it's a great way to help students feel as though they have some control over their final grade."
I had 22 students take me up on the offer. So... 41 research projects + 22 rewrites + 41 final papers = unhappy Mrs. Beeton.
There were some tears on Saturday morning. But, the sunshine melted them away as well as a stern scolding from Mr. Beeton. ("If you spent half as much time working as you do crying and complaining about work, then, maybe then, you'd make some progress." He's right.) So, I sorted through the source packets of one class and then allowed myself a long walk in the sunshine.
Mr. Beeton and I headed to Georgetown. We had some errands to run, and I wanted to show him the famed line at Georgetown Cupcake. They didn't disappoint. The line was almost around the block, filled with Georgetown students and young tourists who all seemed to think MTV's next reality show was being filmed in the District. After stops at H&M for a quick return, Kiehl's, and Aveda, we decided to stop in at Christ Opportunity shop on Wisconsin and then over to Dolcezza for ice cream. It tastes as good as the photograph on the homepage and was declared, "The best date place in D.C." by a Park Slope-dwelling buddy of ours from graduate school. We each got two flavors and shared.
Then, we decided that, since the weather was so nice (and there really isn't anything quite like that first, true Spring day) that we would plant some herbs out back and grill. Mr. Beeton decided on tandoori chicken with tabouleh salad. I decided on lemonade mojitos. When we returned to our apartment, we dug in the dirt, planting cilantro and a boysenberry bush (we already have mint), grilled up our chicken, and relaxed in the hammock. Our lemonade mojitos even gave us enough energy to head down Wisconsin with our friend, The Chemist. It was a perfect night to sit out at Breadsoda and enjoy sherbet.
Summer's just around the corner, my friends.
Keep sweeping, Martha
Lemonade Mojitos
- Crush some fresh mint in the bottom of a pint glass.
- Cut a lime in quarters.
- Squeeze the juice of two lime quarters in the glass. Throw in the lime quarters for good measure.
- Add ice.
- Fill the pint class a quarter of the way full with Captain Morgan's spiced rum.
- Fill the rest of the glass with lemonade.
Tandoori Chicken Kebabs (Skewers Optional)
Compliments of the special grilling issues of Everyday Foods (July/August 2004)
Note: Mr. Beeton can recall several other tandoori chicken recipes which he has tried. He claims this one is the best.
- Martha Stewart says, "In a blender, puree 2 tablespoons of lime juice, 4 cloves of garlic, 1 piece of ginger, and 2 jalapeno chiles. Add 1 cup of plain yogurt, and blend until smooth."
- We say, "Pour your puree in a glass pan. Dunk your chicken pieces in and refrigerate for at least 2 hours. Grill and enjoy.
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