20150213.0757

I am aware that my writing has been somewhat ragged this month. I have skipped days and made all-too-brief entries other days. Things are busy for me, as I believe I have indicated, not only from the work of teaching and grading (and I have a major assignment hanging over my head at the moment as one of several weekend events), but also from the work of freelancing (I have a job to do in that regard, another weekend event), my own ongoing research (just getting a book chapter finalized, which I appreciate greatly; the short piece which I need to make into a video presentation for Tolkien Days; as well as setup for Kalamazoo; seeing about getting things together for SCMLA, since I am chairing a panel and want to present on another; and possibly putting together something for MLA itself), ongoing job hunts (I have an online interview today, and I have been sending out applications in rapid succession for a while, now) and the work of maintaining Sherwood Cottage, particularly with Ms. 8's first birthday coming up in less than a week. The head-cold, which is currently trying to move into my chest despite my ramping up my fluid and vitamin intake, is not helping.

Still, I ought not to complain. I have work to do, and that I keep getting asked to do the work by people who are prominent in their fields (I was invited to participate in the Tolkien Days thing, and the folks organizing it are eminent scholars of medievalism--my kind of people) bespeaks the regard in which I am held. (If it would translate into a tenure-line position, I would be grateful.) The more "normal" work keeps money flowing into the household, and it supports medical, dental, and vision insurance, the last of which my Mrs. and Ms. 8 will use today and I will use next week. (Since my wife and I both wear glasses from need, as do our parents, we expect that Ms. 8 will end up needing to, as well. Best to accustom her to the optometrist early.) There are problems, certainly, but there are always problems, and those I face are far easier to face than others I might name and which are faced by others not too far from where I sit as I write this. I work to resolve mine, because the fact that they are less bad does not mean they are not problems, but this morning, at least, I have a sense of perspective about them.

It is not often that I have such a sense. Like many, I grow easily myopic, consumed with the small part of existence that is mine, failing to see beyond it. My world is restricted, partly because I have chosen a way of life that is often cloistered, and although my walls are not living jet, they yet circumscribe but little, and the doors within them are small. It becomes easy to forget what lies outside them when sight or sound of that outside rarely penetrates them. I and others will do well to remember better.