Like a Bouquet of Freshly Sharpened Pencils

I wanted to write a post dedicated to school starting again. This is supposed to be my last first week of school of my masters. The jury is still out on whether I'll actually graduate this semester. All that aside, this is also the first semester that I'm not actually in a classroom for my classes. My two graduate courses consist of thesis credits and an online Feminist Theory course. Thank goodness I am taking an Old Testament institute course and teaching the Writing Fellow Tutoring Practicum or I'd be done for. The feel of being a room filled with desks does something for my soul.

That being said, I am already feeling super duper ready to be done. I say "done" because I mean finished with the projects which have been haunting me for several semesters, mainly my thesis. This blog is not the place to vent my frustrations about figuring out a graduate thesis so I will move on.

So far this semester, life has been ideal. I get up at give with Neal, fix breakfast and see him off. Then I get ready and bike up to campus. I'm there before 7:30. The English building is quite empty at that time. In my spacious office I try to work on three projects: work, Feminist Theory, and thesis. By three I am so ready to go. I bike down the hill, stopping at the store if I need anything for dinner. I try to accomplish one major chore per day. And I cook dinner. Then Neal and I try to relax after a full and busy day. We sleep and repeat.

So by ideal I really mean exhausting, but productive.

Today I had Neal drop me off before he left for work, which means I had an even better perspective on the English building: 6 am. Boy was it...peaceful. The more work I do for my thesis early in the morning, the more I realize that mornings for me were meant for thinking, not sleeping.

But in the afternoons, I get to do the things that feel like accomplishments because I can actually finish them, unlike teaching or learning. So, here are some of the sweet moments Neal and I have enjoyed in the last week or so. Most of these are pictures from bottling some Early Alberta peaches with Neal, my mother, sister-in-law Christina, and two of my nephews. We were at my childhood home. To really understand the incredible accomplishments of my mother, I feel it important to first point out the space she had for cooking for seven children.

Here is it, the entire floor space of the kitchen. No where else has tiling or counter space.

Some of the lovely little peaches, ready to be scalded.

My favorite tradition: for her whole canning history, my mother has used a deep fryer to scald the peaches. The best part is that I've never ever seen her use the fryer for actual frying.

I love Manuel's photo bomb in the back. But really, Isaiah was responsible for my old job: making and pouring the syrup into the bottles, cleaning the rims, and placing the lids. It still may be my favorite job!

My favorite photo of our ridiculousness.

Peaches all ready to be processed. Aren't they beautiful with that rosy center?

Some of our end results. I've tasted some already; it's a delectable experience.

This is not a peach, nor does it have peaches in it. But it's a pizza with farm fresh peppers, squash, and tomatoes; homemade Alfredo and a whole wheat crust. Plus, you get a chance to see how we Whitlocks do pizza: Star Trek style!

Stuffed squash. It's amazing. Ask me for the recipe (or find it on my Pinterest page).

And last but not least, a small batch of whole wheat bread. I like this photo because it shows that I could make two regular loaves, but I choose to make one regular, one medium, and two tiny. The tiny pans (courtesy of Kamisa) are so Neal can take tiny sandwiches to school and eat them with a melancholy face. Then, he is to say, "sandwiches were so much bigger when I was a kid". We've got it all planned out. That's how we're going to make friends with his coworkers.

Well folks, that's all for today. Kinda rambly, but that's what happens during the first week of school.