It doesn’t happen often, but every now and then, the words just… stall. Maybe it’s a bit of stress at work. Maybe it’s mental clutter. Maybe it’s simply that there are seasons when nothing feels particularly profound or pressing enough to turn into a post. For someone who writes almost every day, that can feel unsettling.
Writer’s block has a way of whispering, you’ve run out of things to say. But I know that isn’t true. Life is still unfolding. Thoughts are still forming. They’re just quieter this week.
And maybe that’s okay.
Not every week has to be a carefully crafted reflection. Not every day needs a tidy moral or an eloquent conclusion. Sometimes we’re just tired. Sometimes we’re in between ideas. Sometimes we need to sit in the stillness and trust that creativity, like everything else, moves in cycles.
I suspect the words will come back soon. They always do.
In the meantime, I’ll leave you with something that never fails to bring a bit of peace into my life—a few Isabella Pics of the Week. It’s been a while since I’ve shared one, so here you go. 🐾
Sometimes, when the words won’t come, a quiet companion is more than enough.
There’s something quietly powerful about a shower. It’s such an ordinary part of our routine that we rarely stop to think about how much it does for us beyond simple cleanliness. But the truth is, a shower can invigorate, restore, and even heal in ways we sometimes take for granted.
If you’re like me and usually step under the water first thing in the morning, it becomes a ritual of renewal. The warmth, the sound, and the sensation of water hitting your skin have a way of waking the body more gently than any alarm clock. It’s a moment to start fresh, to clear away the last traces of sleep, and to steel yourself for the day ahead. On mornings when you feel sluggish or unfocused, a shower can be just the pick-me-up you need to get moving.
But showers do more than energize. They can be deeply healing, too. When you’re fighting off a cold or just feeling run down, the steam can open your breathing and make you feel like you’re cleansing from the inside out. After a workout, the water soothes tired muscles and helps your body begin to recover. Even when I have a migraine, standing under a steady stream can take the edge off the pain and ease the tension in my neck and shoulders. There’s a comfort in that simple act of letting the water run over you, as if it’s carrying away the strain.
And then there’s the end-of-day shower. That one feels different. It’s slower, calmer. It washes away the stress, the frustration, the lingering weight of whatever the day has thrown at you. By the time you step out, your body is relaxed, your mind is quieter, and sleep comes more easily. It’s restorative in the truest sense.
Of course, there’s one other thing a shower is famously good for. When your mind won’t stop wandering somewhere it probably shouldn’t, a brisk turn of the dial to cold has a way of bringing you right back to your senses. It’s amazing how quickly clarity can return when the water gets just a little bit icy.
A small word of advice, though: shower sex can sound hot—and sometimes it is—but it can also be risky. Water washes away lubrication, and many lubes aren’t suited for use in the shower, which can lead to discomfort or irritation. Add in slippery surfaces, tight spaces, and awkward footing, and it’s easy to lose your balance or end up with a fall instead of a good time. Sometimes it’s better to keep it simple—washing each other’s bodies and letting your hands roam can be hot and intimate enough all on its own.
Now, I’m off to take my shower. Have a great day, everyone!
Another work week begins—unless you’re in the U.S. and lucky enough to have Presidents’ Day off. I am not among the fortunate, so it’s business as usual for me. Wednesday will be the busy day this week, but unless something unexpected pops up, the rest should be fairly easygoing. I’ll take that.
The bigger story, though, is the weather. We’re supposed to climb above freezing nearly every day this week. Not enough to melt all the snow, but enough to make things sloppy. And since it’s February, this would officially mark the arrival of Vermont’s first Fake Spring.
For those unfamiliar, Vermont doesn’t really have four seasons. We have eleven:
Winter → Fake Spring → Second Winter (usually worse than the first) → Spring of Deception → Third Winter → Mud Season → Actual Spring (which lasts approximately 4–8 days) → Summer (gorgeous) → False Fall → Second Summer (also gorgeous) → Actual Fall.
Right now, we’re squarely in that hopeful, misleading stretch where the sun feels warmer, the air softens just a bit, and you start to believe we’ve turned a corner. We haven’t. Second Winter is lurking. It always is.
Still, I’ll enjoy the small mercies—slightly warmer afternoons, a bit more daylight, the sense that we’re inching toward something brighter, even if it’s two or three fake-outs away. Fake Spring may live up to its name, but I’m willing to be fooled for a few days.
I hope your week is steady and kind, wherever you are in your own seasonal cycle.
My tour yesterday seemed to go exceptionally well. I could feel the energy in the room, the attentiveness, the thoughtful questions. When the university’s social media featured the tour afterward, it felt like a quiet affirmation that the work we do matters. Moments like that make the preparation and effort worthwhile.
One thing I’ve learned about myself over the years is that I can usually immerse myself in something like a tour and push a migraine to the back of my mind. Adrenaline and focus carry me through. The problem is what happens afterward. When the event ends and things go back to normal, I tend to crash—and the migraine comes roaring back, worse than before. That’s exactly what happened yesterday. I ended up going home and going straight to bed, letting my body do what it needed to do.
Thankfully, I’m feeling better this morning and can take it easy while I work from home. I’m grateful for that flexibility.
And then there’s the calendar: today is Friday the 13th.
I’ve always had a touch of triskaidekaphobia—the irrational fear of the number 13. My paternal grandmother was wonderfully superstitious, and she passed more than a few of those notions down to me. Not black cats—Isabella would never allow that—but other things.
She was adamant that if you were walking with someone and the two of you came to a post, a tree, or any obstacle, you must not split and pass on opposite sides. If you did, you had to go back and pass on the same side, or something terrible might happen. If you killed a snake, it had to be draped over a fence to guarantee rain. And the strangest superstition of all: if you sneezed at the dinner table, you had to get up and walk to the door before you could sit back down—otherwise, a family member would die. More than once, I pushed my chair back, walked solemnly to the back door, touched it, and returned to my plate before I could resume eating.
Looking back, I smile. Those rituals were strange, yes—but they were also part of her world, her way of trying to exert a little order over an unpredictable life.
Interestingly, my mother and her mother both considered 13 to be lucky—after all, they were both born on the 13th. Maybe the number isn’t so ominous after all. Maybe it’s simply a reminder of the women who shaped me.
Hopefully, today will be entirely uneventful.
And since today is Friday, February 13th, that means tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. I want to send my love out to everyone who reads this blog. I keep writing each day not only for myself, but also for you. Your quiet presence, your comments, your encouragement—they matter more than you know.
So wherever you are, and whatever tomorrow looks like for you, know that you are appreciated.
I woke up again in the middle of the night with a migraine. I was able to take some medicine and get back to sleep, but when I woke up this morning, it was still there—lingering and stubborn. My throat is still sore too, so I made a cup of tea with honey to try to soothe it before heading out.
If I didn’t have two important things to take care of at work today—things I can’t really hand off to anyone else—I would probably call in sick. I’ll give my VIP tour first thing this morning and finish a few preparations for next week’s program. After that, if I’m still not feeling better, I’ll head home and rest.
I’m hoping the migraine eases as the morning goes on. Fingers crossed that everything goes as planned—and that if I need to leave once the priority work is done, I can do so without a problem.
I woke up in the middle of the night with a migraine—something that rarely happens. I was able to fall back asleep, but the headache lingered into the morning. On top of that, my throat feels raw and sore, and yesterday my voice wasn’t very strong. I kept feeling like I couldn’t quite project at a normal volume. I’m drinking some hot tea this morning in hopes of soothing my throat and giving my voice a little help. I’m hoping whatever this is passes quickly.
I have a follow-up dentist appointment this afternoon for the root canal I had last month, and I’m not putting that off. More importantly, tomorrow morning I’m giving a VIP tour of the museum. My guest is a nationally known political figure—no, not Bernie—but someone a bit more controversial.
It’s encouraging to know the university asked me to lead the tour. After more than ten years of giving tours at the museum, I should be able to handle it. I’ve led generals and admirals (both U.S. and international), diplomats, and politicians through our galleries. Years ago, a visit like this might have made me nervous. Not anymore. I know the collection. I know the stories. And honestly, I look forward to these opportunities.
Now I just need my voice to cooperate so I can give the kind of tour they’re expecting.
It was so hard to get up this morning. I went to bed on time and didn’t wake up during the night, but it still felt like I needed a few more hours of sleep. Maybe it’s because I had to go to work, or maybe it’s because it’s –7 degrees outside and the bed felt especially safe and warm.
Some mornings just carry that extra weight—the kind where your body is awake before your spirit has caught up. I know I’ll make it through the day. I have a meeting this afternoon that I can’t miss or reschedule, and responsibilities have a way of pulling us forward even when we’d rather stay still for a little while longer.
At some point I’ll feel more awake. Coffee and the morning news will come first, easing me into the day, and then a hot shower before getting ready for work. It doesn’t all have to happen at once.
I hope everyone has a gentle start to their week and finds small moments of warmth—whether that’s a hot drink, a quiet moment, or just the reassurance that we don’t have to be fully “on” right away.
I’m so glad today is a work-from-home day. Tomorrow I’ll be in early for a special event, so having this quieter morning feels like a small gift.
Since I’m working on Saturday, I had yesterday off—and because I’m working from home today, I’ll still need to head in early to get everything set up for the program I’ll be doing. It’s one of those in-between days: not exactly a day off, not quite a full workday either.
I only wish today’s weather was what we’re expecting tomorrow. Today will warm up to about 23 degrees—the mildest it’s been in weeks. Tomorrow, though, is a very different story. We’re under a severe weather advisory, with wind chills expected to drop 20 to 30 below zero. At least the museum should be warm.
I have a few things to take care of while working from home today. Tomorrow’s program should wrap up by around 10 a.m., and after that, the rest of the day will be paperwork and taking things easy until it’s time to head home.
Some days are about bracing against the cold. Others are about finding the small comforts where you can—and today feels a bit like that.
* 🚨 * 🚨 * Red Alert * 🚨 * 🚨 *
🖖 Possible spoiler ahead…
Starfleet Academy Update
Y’all know I’m a Star Trek fan, so you’ll just have to get used to at least five more weeks of me sharing my thoughts on Starfleet Academy. My favorite Star Trek series has always been Deep Space Nine. It’s one of the most complex and intriguing of all the Treks, and I’ve watched the entire series dozens of times.
I think we all have a movie or TV show we return to when we need something familiar—mindless comfort, a pick-me-up, or just a way to quiet whatever’s rattling around in our heads. For me, that show is Deep Space Nine.
So when I read that this week’s Starfleet Academy episode was being described as a “love letter to Deep Space Nine,” I was—needless to say—very excited.
There were definitely things I loved about the episode. The little bit of gay drama between Jay-Den and Kyle was fun, and Darem’s jealousy was about as subtle as a photon torpedo. Drag queen Jackie Cox appears, Tawny Newsome guest stars, and we get to see Cirroc Lofton again—who has grown into quite a handsome man.
That said… there is one thing about the episode that genuinely pissed me off.
If anyone’s curious what that was, let me know in the comments. I’m happy to answer there, or I may save it and talk more about it on Monday—once everyone who wants to watch the episode has had time to do so.
Some mornings, the words just don’t line up the way I want them to. Today is one of those days. I’m sitting here with thoughts drifting past, but none quite willing to settle into sentences.
That’s okay. Not every day needs a polished reflection or a carefully shaped idea. Sometimes showing up is enough.
I hope your day brings you something steady and kind—a good cup of coffee, a moment of quiet, a laugh you didn’t expect. Wherever you are and whatever you’re carrying, I hope today treats you gently.
Some days don’t arrive with an argument or an insight. They just show up.
Today is one of those days. The week is halfway over, which somehow feels both reassuring and slightly disorienting. I’m off tomorrow, though I’ll be working Saturday, so the usual rhythm of the week feels a little skewed—time folded in on itself.
Work today is steady but manageable. There are several things I need to get done, but nothing especially heavy or consuming—just the kind of tasks that move projects along without demanding all of my attention.
Thursday will be simple and practical. A short doctor’s appointment to finish something we couldn’t quite wrap up earlier in the week. Nothing dramatic, just a loose end being tied. After that, Planet Fitness—probably just thirty minutes on the treadmill. No grand workout plan, no pushing limits. Just walking, moving forward, letting my thoughts drift while the minutes pass.
I usually read while I’m on the treadmill. It makes the time go faster and keeps my mind from constantly checking in with that familiar question—how much longer? When I’m absorbed in a page or two, my body seems to take care of itself. I don’t think as much about balance or movement; I just keep going.
The part of the day I’m most looking forward to comes later: spending the afternoon with an older male friend I don’t get to see nearly often enough. We usually talk nonstop—about books, art, history, museums, and whatever else the conversation wanders into. Those kinds of conversations are their own kind of nourishment.
Not every day needs to be productive in obvious ways. Not every post needs a point. Some days are about maintenance—of the body, of routines, of friendships. And that’s enough.
Sometimes, halfway through the week, showing up quietly is its own accomplishment.
Joe
The Closet Professor 