As of yesterday (actually, as of last week, but I was sworn to secrecy pending the announcement), I have a nifty new job. It’s actually very much like the nifty old job I got several months ago, but it’s not fixed-term, it is tenure-track, and it pays considerably more. So I like it much better. Which is saying something, because I really liked it before, too.

It’s a happy feeling at age forty-five to be able–finally–to say that you love your job.

More later. I’m at work now.

Monday Night in Winston-Salem

A note to my very sweet (but slightly overachieving) neighbors:

Please note that the assorted crabgrass and weeds have now been trimmed to a more manageable height. I realize the yard isn’t likely to impress you–or hell, even to placate you–but I hope you at least appreciate the gesture on my part. I even swept some of my trimmings off the street and disposed of that pile of leaves by the garage.

That said, please don’t look on this as a sign that I will be spending the rest of my weekends this spring and summer vacuuming the grass and steam-cleaning the driveway, as you apparently do, nor do I need a suggestion about which specific Disney animators you hire to make sure you have only the most attractive birds in your trees. Priorities, you know? I’m not a yard person, and this is the best I can am willing to do.

Thank you,