Updates with Cow-noes, transitions, and zombies

Life continues to be rich and full here in Enoughsville. This week we've been particularly rich in all the random stuff that May is!

(I tell young professors:  May does not exist.  You think that because your classes end in April, that in May you will catch up on your missed sleep and start to work on your research projects, but instead you will get to the end of May and think, "I feel like I have been very busy all this month, but I can't remember what all I did!"  That is because May does not, actually, exist.  Or at least because it's the month that is the catch-all for things that we didn't do in the semester or need to do before the summer).

So, to kick off some of the randomness, I offer a picture I just got from my sister.  She wrote, "Kent and I were at a canoe festival last weekend and this made me think of you."

A "Cownoe".

I love this very, very much.  It reminds me of the times Inkling sends me photos of "things I didn't buy for you".  And yes, it's a compliment that someone says, "I saw a cow-thing, and it made me think of you."

On a related water theme, I've missed having Gosling's dogs in the newsletter, and I'm delighted they're back.

Summer is here!  

Gosling:  Guinness and Watson enjoying the water today!

Kinderling:  Love it!!! Happy dogs!!

Gosling:  Very

Wet dog.

Nelson is not in the water, but he's having fun with sport (basketball, in particular, of course). 

picture of the travel team

And segueing from travel team to travel (ooh, I've got some kickin' transitions between photos this week!), Inkling and OfSnough went to New York for their various New York-y things.  

"Traveling with Dude and knitting in Times Square"

As for me, back at home, I submitted grades last week, and then had a student lie to me, pretending to have turned something in that he hadn't.  Ugh -- what I won't miss about teaching:  students lying to me about work they have (not) done.  I had no plagiarism cases this semester, but I won't miss those, either.  At any rate, today we had graduation; I read the names of about 140-ish students, mostly getting the pronunciations correct, and that was wonderful but also simultaneously wiped me out and made me feel brain-dead for the rest of the day . . . which is a perfect segue into the next topic, which is  . . .  Zombies!  

You may or may not remember that I'd set myself a goal of learning Michael Jackson's Thriller dance this year.  I started mentioning this to friends, several of whom offered to join in the fun.  I found space in our dance studio (there was a highly amusing back-and-forth about this:  "What group is this you're representing?" Uh, me and a couple of friends.  "Who are these friends?" Mostly employees . . . "Okay we'll get back to you!"  [A week or two delay] . . . "We've had a committee meeting and decided to approve this, but you'll have to fill out a contract.  We will charge you $0.00.  Also, everyone needs to fill out a waiver."

I sent out a campus-wide email about this, and as of now, I have about 20 people who say they want to come participate in what we're calling "Thriller Thursdays" this summer.  I've dutifully promised the powers-that-are that anyone who wants to come dance with me will have to fill out a waiver that says, in part, 

I acknowledge that the nature of the Activity or Trip may expose me to hazards or risks that may result in my illness, personal injury, or death, and I understand and appreciate the nature of such hazards and risks.

In consideration of my participation in the Activity or Trip, I hereby accept all risk to my health and of my injury or death that may result from such participation. 

These words sound a little ominous in the face of a dance about zombies rising from their graves, but maybe they'll add to the ambiance (?!).  That being said, I'm not planning to venture into the realm of personal injury or death during these gatherings, and I'm looking forward to being silly with lots of people.   Or thrilling.  Or something. 

May might not exist, but the Zombie Thriller dancers will soon exist, and I'm feeling particularly rich in my adventures.  May you and yours be similarly prosperous.