Here in Portland in November, it’s the peak of the fall foliage season. All the hardwood trees are ablaze in color. The imported maple trees are bright red. The leaves cover the lawns and sidewalks. City workers carrying blowers are blowing them into piles.

This morning El and I went for a walk with her dog Sally in a wooded area adjacent to Reed College. Say what you want about the students being a part of an elitist meritocracy, this would (in my estimation) be a great place to go to school or, better yet, to teach. I wish that I’d gone here. The campus is quite peaceful, what with its long stretches of lawn and its forested setting. The buildings are not at all obtrusive – I pictured students in classes, all participating in scholarly discussions.

And at the same time, I pictured El laughing at my mental image because, after all, this is an elitist institution – there is no getting away from this.

Sally

I found myself wishing that I’d gotten a teaching job here, but I discovered that if you do as I did, and go to state colleges, you will end up teaching at the same. This is a given. Amazingly, no one I have ever met has acknowledged this. I also wouldn’t have looked or acted the part.

This afternoon El had her friend Jane over – El had spent considerable time preparing for the afternoon activity, which was rock painting. She’d gone to Michael’s art supply store and purchased all the supplies, paint and brushes and pallets included – and even had a drop cloth on hand for her kitchen table. And, of course, she’d gone rock collecting, and prepped the rocks so the paint would stick to them.

I was so overwhelmed (I can’t think of a better word to describe my feelings) – that I could not do a good job painting my rocks I ended up painting over what I’d painted. In retrospect, I should have drawn out what I wanted to paint before I painted it.

Afterwards, El and Jane and I played Scrabble. The pressure was on – El has always considered me to be a good Scrabble player. At the same time, she has become extremely competitive, while I have become less so.

I did win. I wasn’t even paying much attention to what I was doing. I just had good letters and got lucky. I would not have cared if I’d lost.

I am, of course, extremely homesick. I read in the online paper, the Anchorage Daily News, that the weather on the home front is really bad. The report indicated that the Mat-Su Valley is experiencing rain and snow and high winds. Power lines are down. I hope that all the critters on the home front are okay. Most likely, the roads are bad and no one is going anywhere.

So I’m lucky to be here, enjoying the fall colors and the milder temperatures and hoping that when it’s time for me to fly home that the skies are blue and windless and precipitation free.

Next: 307. 11/8/23: Pick A Religion, Any Religion