Ora et Labora

The town on the other side of the road denied a zoning permit for a new mosque, citing zoning concerns, all the while social media posts and the public comment period were dominated by conspiracies.

Today: Wrangling courses and fully planning as much of the semester as I can and finally taking down the Christmas decorations after being gone last week.

Status: I’ve successfully avoided the flu this season but picked up the lovely cold that always gets me and it’s lingering, flonase, sudafed, and everything else be damned.

Reading: The Blood in Winter: England on the Brink of Civil War, 1642, Jonathan Healey. It’s been an engaging slog, but a slog nonetheless and it’s well overdue to the library.

Listening: The Unclear and Present Danger paid patreon and Panic World to help explain points at everything

Last Watched: Bits of the city council meeting on the mosque.

Vespers are the evening prayers, said at dusk each day as a way of giving thanks for the day left behind. Religion aside, the idea of a meditative pause as darkness settles is lovely. So with the new semester, might as well make it a regular thing. 4 classes, 200ish students, one me and more trying to find a balance of teaching in the era of AI.

After a week away with family with arrived home to find the books we packed in our checked luggage were ruined due to water damage from being left outside during our connection. I shouldn’t be nearly as annoyed as I am given it’s four books but I’m mostly mad at myself for not doing the smart thing and packing them in the carry-ons.

At the same time it’s a depressing reminder that we’ve got basically four carriers and in many places less than that and because of that none of them have much incentive to actually care about customer service. My damage claim ($50 would buy a lot of goodwill) is likely to go unanswered as did my very committed desire to never fly American again. Because they know I’ll either have to come back or they’ll get another passenger in my place.

Finished reading: Fen, Bog and Swamp by Annie Proulx 📚

Jess Love: “Nothing is ever simple. Nostalgia protects and nostalgia poisons, and still we go back for more.”