Musings of Professor Fox

I had to take a test. Writing this memory in the middle of a pandemic makes me remember fondly how easy "hard" things were to get accomplished not that long ago. As part of the application materials to get accepted into Graduate School, I was required to take the Graduate Record Examination or GRE. I mentioned in my last post that it had been decades since my last standardized test, and I was quite nervous about it. Nonetheless, online I went to select a testing center and an available date. The closest available option was about 120 miles away and three weeks or so away. I put in my information, entered my credit card number, and my adventure was set. Now, how to prepare?? A quick Google search revealed any number of study guides and aids, but I opted for the free download from the GRE site itself and worked carefully through the examples. Very quickly, I proved to myself that I had forgotten quite a bit of information from my last academic adventure. Forge ahead I did thoug...

Deep into the summer of 2016, my wife and I were sitting on the back porch, enjoying the view, talking about life, and sipping our respective beverage of choice. I had been struggling for years with the decision about whether or not to go to Graduate School and earn a higher degree or be satisfied with being unsatisfied with my job. Really, many things were on the table and she finally just said: "If you are going to do it, now would be the best time. Figure out what to do and do it." At some point, I think I had just hoped that someone else would make the choice for me and the clouds would open up with the booming voice that said, "You are going to do THIS." That moment never happened, but I did start to move forward with some planning.  Many years ago, I made the decision to pursue industry certifications instead of advanced degrees mostly because I felt they were more useful to my job. In hindsight, and if you work in a University setting, go with the advanced de...

I am by no means a baking expert, but I do enjoy finding new recipes and eating the creations when finished. I probably get this from my grandmother (either one actually). Both of my grandmas had many hand-written and print recipe books. Some of the contents handed down in the standard way from mother to daughter, and then mother to daughter again.  The only way to keep some of these family traditions alive is to continue the chain. For those recipes we enjoy as a family, we have taught our children how to make them, keeping that connection to the next generation alive. I imagine that most, if not all, families do something similar. I am reminded of the days, weeks, and months after my wife and I got married. She had favorites from her family, and I had favorites from mine. Funnily enough, we both disliked a fair amount of the other's contributions.  Working through this, we created our own "culture" and maintain the joint things we both like to eat. Now, when one or the ...

 once upon a time  time was a figment figment of a people  people who loved loved to engage engage and inspire inspire the spark spark of a dream dream of a world world in a pen pen on the page  page to the end end of the time time that was once 

 the night flew by without notice conversation engaging as the barriers disintegrated leaving each other  open and vulnerable to chase whimsical transgressions into the dark horizon  over five-minute hours as dawn faraway broke gently into their soul-baring revelry 

 the trees in the forest  are placed ever so  delicately by random chance offering  umbrage to the smallest traveler on the unmarked  paths winding and twisting  over and under deadfall old becoming new  with natural sincerity

One major adventure that poses a challenge during this time of year: the ice and snow covered sidewalk. How best to navigate the landscape, stay upright, and reach the destination safely. I generally fail at one, two, or three of those options and end up staring at the sky wondering how I got there. I have bought a pair of the Yaktrax for my shoes before, and I have also considered buying a pair of weather walking sticks (they look an awful lot like ski poles) just to be on the safe side. All of this makes me wonder... If anyone is reading this, do you have a particularly successful method for preserving your butt during this season? If you have something that is your go-to and works, leave me a comment. I would love to hear from you. It's funny that on the opposite side of that coin, I love to go sledding and throw all caution to the wind and look for the iciest, steepest section of the sledding hill. "If he dies, he dies," to quote Rocky IV.

  The day was unusally calm for mid-September in the Rocky Mountains, but she would not complain. Serena Michaels was bound and determined to make it home at least once during these crazy pandemic times. She had her bus ticket in hand, and made her way from the office, where she had the most wonderful chat with the kind ticket agent, to the platform where the great steel beasts were parked awaiting their passengers. The compartments underneath Bus 1023 were open, and the driver was guiding passengers to place their suitcases according to their seat assignments. Since Serena had requested the very back row, she quickly moved to the farthest compartment, stowed her single suitcase, and then moved toward the door. She would keep her backpack with her since her entire life and career were stowed safely in the padded compartment. Her laptop. She never let it out of her sight. Looking back quickly to remember the compartment number, R4, she walked toward the front of the bus and climbed ...

Planted long ago, the tree had seen many seasons come and go. He marked time as his world cycled from wet and green to frozen and white, and he always looked forward to a nice winter nap when the leaves finally finished showing off their rainbow colors and floated to the ground. At some point, the curious-looking two-legged creatures living behind him started planting friends for him. Cherry and Peach and their sisters were his favorite. They always spoke the kindest, and they brought the funny little buzzing creatures that landed on each blossom during the wet and green time. They would occasionally buzz around him, but since he had no flowers, they quickly got bored and moved off. His favorite time was during the really warm part of the cycle. The smallest of the two-legged creatures would spend hours playing in the soft green stuff at the base of his trunk. Occasionally one of them would stand really close to him with their head pressed against his bark and utter strange incantation...

  The temperatures are fluctuating, and the skies are dark in the morning which signals the start of another January semester. I will admit to feeling the same feelings as a professor that I once felt as a student: excitement, apprehension, nervousness, fear of the unknown. Added to the normal issues faced in the academic environment, we are in, what, month 22 of the COVID-19 pandemic? Since I just turned 50, I have set myself some goals for the next decades, or at least as many as I'm given. One of these goals is to "justttttttttttt do something". In light of that, welcome to my space of exploring my inner mental monologue. -Professor Fox

The older man summoned his son to inspect the ground where the newlywed's house would be built. A fine plot of land set at the edge of the valley. His new daughter-in-law would be able to sit at a specially designed window seat facing south and observe a rainbow of colors as the seasons progress: white in the winter, greens of all shades in the spring, deeper greens and golden browns in the summer signaling harvest, and a rainbow in the fall as nature shed her leaves. “I want to show you something that I learned too late in life,” the father said as he pointed to four stones he had placed, one in each corner of the foundation. As they walked around together, the son noticed that words were carved into each stone carefully. Beginning in the northwest corner, the young groom saw the word “LOVE” in red letters. The father spoke, “Love is an important foundation for you two to build your life upon, and since the normal color associated with love and passion is red, well, I had it paint...

  The hours flip by—much like the card clothes-pinned to the spokes of my childhood bike frame offering an exhilaration and feeling of speed.   I sit and ponder the feeling of hearing the thwip-thwip-thiwp in rapid succession as each contact briefly touched the aluminum and let go.   The calendar taunts me from the top of my desk. 2022. Fifty years ago, I started this adventure poor, naked, and cold.   Along the way, I met a partner so imperfectly perfect that my life was altered irreversibly and set on a path full of joy and sorrow, agony and ecstasy.   Never had I thought to gather such emotion and meaning from a single word— a fundamental, foundational change both inwardly and outwardly.   Tipping the imaginary hourglass on its end forcing the unnumbered grains from one bulb to the other, sliding unaffected through the neck to reside in a new home.   Day after day, week after we...