time flies, and another term is over, this one packed with 20-hour weeks, grammar tests, driving across town to schools and karate etc. so i finish the last of two monster finals, grade them and am almost ready to seal up the grades and walk away, tomorrow: but, i've been invited to tesol, and might review & renew a presentation, or even make another. life moves on; i have to do something. but i'm slightly put back that so much of what i wrote, toward the end, is disorganized; it's as if having too many children, and some of them in such disarray, has scattered an already over-scattered brain. i must deal with this. but not now; it's almost break.

so in the news there are two great stories. one is the story of bob feller's life; he died, and while that's tragic, it was also inevitable, and now we get to read all about him, as he really was an amazing character. threw the "van meter heater" - fast ball of all fast balls, mostly because he'd thrown so many walnuts at trees. in iowa. this was my kind of guy. and loyal to the indians, all the way, regardless of their mascot. he even died in the cleveland area, i noticed; this is probably something i won't do.

the other is the l.a. times' claim that the vegas bank robber got away with next to nothing, since $1.5 worth of chips could only be cashed at a single casino which now will be very careful and certainly catch him if he makes as much as a single move. but i remain skeptical. did they catch him? did he not get away with $1.5 million worth of chips? how much would it cost them to change the logo on all their chips? isn't that what they'd have to do to catch him?

the world being fleeting, as it is, with people stealing each other's words, or thoughts, or chips, or even images, one never knows what one is dealing with. my money, i've noticed, has become pink. but that's worked in, in a subtle way, with the usual dark gray and dull green that have been there forever. it's like the world's valentines, to give you a pink message, as you sit there in the coffee line, waiting for a stiff cup of dark-roast seattle's best, trying to concentrate on wretched grammar.

and it's off to california on friday, and the calendars not even done, though the cards & letters i just finished today; the shopping is not even partly done. nor the tree, or the decoration, or anything else. it's a bad time for us academics. we will get a tree, though, i'm sure, maybe tomorrow. though an ice storm is coming in, and it may be dicey for a few hours.

so that shows a little, how life goes. the ice storm cometh, here in carbondale. grammar finals, castle-park calendars, pink money, in fact, i have stolen another day from the jaws of certain dullness, but i've stolen it successfully; i'm surely not bored, and california, at least where we are going, will be interesting, if nothing else. it's way up the mountain, the sierras, so high a person could push himself and see if one could just go over the top, to the dry side, to the nevada side, but i don't really know, having never done it, and it might be closed in the winter. in any case there's a lot of snow, both out there and here, and a two hour drive at least, at both ends, no matter what, and a layover in san diego of all places. back here i think of the walnut and the tree, and a certain tendency toward wildness, but a windmill delivery, a competitive edge, a faithful wife. would have liked to have seen the indians win it all; yes, i also would have liked that, but i still yet have a chance. it's not over 'til it's over, as they say, or maybe it would be better put this way: one should not cash in one's chips lightly. and why would anyone be carrying chips around in the first place?