Monthly Archives: October 2024

Pic of the Day


Moment of Zen: Kissing


Pic of the Day

@RileyWalkerXXX

📸: @briankphotog


Much Needed

Today is a much needed work from home day. After having covid the week before, working in the office this week has drained all my energy. By the end of each day this week, I felt like I was a battery that lost its charge. Working from home allows me to be more relaxed, and if needed, I can lay down and possibly take a nap. I need a weekend of nothing to do and nowhere to go. I need to rest and recover. I will probably answer and send some emails today, but I plan to mostly read. I have a presentation to make on Monday, so I will finish up the PowerPoint for that. It will be a short 5-10 minute presentation on a class I will be teaching next semester.

Here’s hoping for a restful and relaxing weekend. Have a great weekend, everyone!


Pic of the Day


Breakfast

I eat breakfast every day. That has not always been the case, but I often wake up hungry. The change came for one of two reasons. It’s either because I wake up earlier in the mornings and have time to actually eat before getting ready and running out the door for work. I get up earlier because I sleep better with my CPAP and feel more well-rested in the mornings, and also, Isabella is so insistent that she wants to be fed early in the mornings. The other reason I eat breakfast is that once my diabetes was under control, I woke up with lower blood sugar in the mornings and was thus hungry. The problem with eating breakfast every morning is that I don’t have much variety in what I have for breakfast. I do not like sweet breakfast foods except on rare occasions. If I am somewhere that serves good French toast, then I’ll have French toast. So, more often than not, I have a biscuit, cheese toast, or an English muffin. If I have enough time, I will make some grits, biscuits and gravy, or maybe even savory scones, but I usually only have time for that on the weekend and when I have done some preparation the night before. On rare occasions I might make some bacon and eggs, but as a general rule, eggs are not one of my favorite things and can occasionally make me nauseated.

This morning was one of those mornings when I looked in my refrigerator and freezer and thought, “There isn’t anything that looks appetizing this morning.” So, I made a cup of tea. I’m still waking up congested, so a cup of hot tea seems better to break up the congestion than coffee does, especially since I put cream in my coffee. As I write this, I have been thinking of what I want to make for breakfast, or do I want to hold off on eating until after I leave for work? If I hold off, I can go by Dunkin’ Donuts, McDonald’s, or stop at one of the local delis to get a breakfast sandwich. While I did wake up hungry this morning, I think I could easily wait to get breakfast on my way to work. When I finish typing this I will make my decision on what I will be doing for breakfast this morning. Tomorrow, I will be working from home, so I will have a little extra time and will likely either fry up some ham and cook a biscuit or two so I can have a ham and cheese biscuit, or I may make a bowl of cheese grits. This morning, I just don’t have the energy for either of those. 

I am still feeling a lot of fatigue from having Covid last week, so I will be glad to when today is over and I can be a little more relaxed for the next few days. Next week is going to be very busy as I am hosting some guests at the museum, which will likely have me working longer days than usual. I need my energy back to get through next week. The week after that, I will be gone for a conference all week. So, there won’t be much rest for the weary over the next couple of weeks.


Pic of the Day


I Need More Sleep

I wish I could have stayed in bed today. Going back to work these past two days has worn me out. I am constantly exhausted, and even though I was so tired yesterday, I felt like I could barely hold up my head last night, I had trouble falling asleep. Then, I woke up earlier than usual this morning with a migraine and could not fall back to sleep, especially since Isabella realized I was awake and wanted to be fed. I wish I could stay home today and get some rest; however, I have a couple of meetings in scheduled for to today. Plus, I was out four out of five days last week. I also have some phone calls to make and emails to answer. Anyway, as much as I’d like to crawl back into bed, it’s not a luxury I have today.


Pic of the Day


Ghosts

Ghosts
By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

    There are ghosts in the room.
As I sit here alone, from the dark corners there
They come out of the gloom,
And they stand at my side and they lean on my chair

    There’s a ghost of a Hope
That lighted my days with a fanciful glow,
In her hand is the rope
That strangled her life out. Hope was slain long ago.

    But her ghost comes to-night
With its skeleton face and expressionless eyes,
And it stands in the light,
And mocks me, and jeers me with sobs and with sighs.

    There’s the ghost of a Joy,
A frail, fragile thing, and I prized it too much,
And the hands that destroy
Clasped its close, and it died at the withering touch.

    There’s the ghost of a Love,
Born with joy, reared with hope, died in pain and unrest,
But he towers above
All the others—this ghost; yet a ghost at the best,

  I am weary, and fain
Would forget all these dead: but the gibbering host
Make my struggle in vain—
In each shadowy corner there lurketh a ghost.

About this Poem

“Ghosts” appeared in the Poetical Works of Ella Wheeler Wilcox (W. P. Nimmo, Hay, & Mitchell, 1917), in the section titled “Poems of Hope.” In her essay, “Symmetrical Womanhood: Poetry in the Woman’s Building Library,” published by the University of Texas Press, poet and scholar Angela Sorby affirmed, “While Wilcox’s poems—with their ringing rhymes, facile forms, and inflated emotions—are clearly products of the genteel idealist sensibility, they are distinctive in one striking respect: they are rooted, firmly and explicitly, in the female body. Her poems neither veil the self in sentimental modesty nor escape into an ideal disembodied universalism. Instead, they make the author’s desires into a driving force. […] Ella Wheeler Wilcox embodies the contradictions of the period because her poems’ speakers are independent but also limited in their range of motion and emotion. Her poems are middlebrow, self-assured, daring (but not too daring), and committed to expressing specific ambitions that can be realized within a mainstream poetic framework.”

“Ghosts” is a poignant exploration of memory and the emotional remnants of relationships. The poem uses the metaphor of ghosts to illustrate how past experiences and lost loved ones continue to affect the living. The poem suggests that memories can be as powerful and persistent as ghosts. The speaker reflects on how these memories intrude upon daily life, evoking both pain and nostalgia. Wilcox delves into the enduring nature of love, emphasizing that even after a person is gone, their influence remains. The emotional bonds we create do not disappear; they linger in our hearts and minds. The poem captures a sense of solitude, as the speaker confronts these haunting memories alone. This isolation emphasizes the depth of the emotional impact that these “ghosts” have.

Wilcox employs vivid imagery to evoke feelings associated with memories and loss. The ghosts symbolize not just the deceased but also unresolved emotions and past experiences. The tone is reflective and melancholic, inviting readers to empathize with the speaker’s sense of longing and introspection. The “ghosts” symbolize both the past and the emotional weight carried forward into the present, highlighting the inescapable nature of our experiences. Overall, “Ghosts” serves as a meditation on how the past shapes our identity and emotional landscape. Wilcox’s poignant reflections encourage readers to acknowledge their own “ghosts,” recognizing that while they may haunt us, they also contribute to the richness of our human experience.

About the Poet

Ella Wheeler Wilcox was born on November 5, 1850, in Johnstown, Wisconsin. She was the daughter of a farmer and received a basic education in local schools. From an early age, she showed a talent for writing, often composing poems and stories.

Wilcox began publishing her poetry in local newspapers and gained wider recognition in the 1880s. Her first major collection, “Poems of Passion” (1883), was controversial for its candid treatment of love and desire but established her as a significant literary voice. She continued to write prolifically, producing numerous collections and essays throughout her career. Wilcox’s poetry often reflected themes of love, nature, and human emotions, characterized by a straightforward and accessible style. Her optimistic outlook resonated with many readers, making her work popular in her time. One of her most famous poems, “Solitude,” emphasizes the importance of self-reflection and personal growth.

Beyond her literary work, Wilcox was an outspoken advocate for women’s rights and social issues. She was involved in various reform movements and used her platform to address topics such as suffrage, education, and social justice. Wilcox married Robert Wilcox in 1871, and they lived in various locations, including Chicago and New York. The couple had one son, but their marriage faced challenges, including financial difficulties and differing views on social issues.

Wilcox continued to write until her death on October 30, 1919. Her work, though sometimes criticized for its sentimentality, has been appreciated for its emotional depth and ability to capture the complexities of human experience. Today, she is remembered as a prominent figure in American literature, with her poems continuing to resonate with readers.