I was hoping to be in Vienna for a day and a half last week, but that didn’t work out, so I had just four hours (awake) there.

I didn’t get to any museums, galleries, or cathedrals.

I did have fresh pistachio ice cream.

I did not go to CATS.

I got myself off the main tourist lane, discovering a great city just a few blocks away.

I did not buy souvenirs.

I did wander into an independent jewelry store and bought a ring from the very woman who made it.

I didn’t know whether a waiter was teasing me when I asked him for cutlery and a napkin to eat my snack; he sounded surprised by my request. Do the Viennese eat sausages with their hands? (The confusion is because he winked every single time he spoke to me.)

I did have a lovely pasta caprese in a small Italian restaurant a block from my hotel. The husband cooked for me; the wife served me.

I did not feel lonely when I was the only person in the restaurant when they opened; I was eating ridiculously early since I had to be up at 3 a.m. to head to the airport.

I did make time to take a bubble bath in the luxurious tub in my hotel room and a glass of mini bar wine.

I did not have enough time there.

We’re still not sure how Graymalkin got out–we’re guessing it was when Dante took out the recycling Monday night.

So he was gone almost 48 hours.

Last night, we got a call from a guy a block and a half away. He had opened his door; Graymalkin was on his doorstep. He said they hung out for about twenty minutes because Gray was so friendly. Then he went to check his mail–and that’s when he saw our flier and called.

Knowing that Gray was friendly makes me feel a lot better.

He is traditionally skittish around strangers. He was absolutely terrified for three hours about a month ago when AT&T was installing a new cable line. Visitors have to hang out for a long time before he’ll decide they’re not a threat.

So we assumed that he would stay cowering somewhere, afraid to make contact with anyone.

I’m incredibly relieved that he overcame that–that he knew he needed to trust the kindness of strangers in a desperate time.

He got home a few minutes before book group started. Usually, when the nephews are here, he hides. Two year olds and blind kittens aren’t a good mix.

Last night, he lay down between the boys, in the center of the living room, and he didn’t freak out when he was roughly petted or when his tail got stepped on.

He was home, so he was safe.

I haven’t touched up my gray hair in three weeks, and I can tell. I was sitting here, after working on syllabi all day, trying to figure out when I was going to be able to do so before I head out of the country for a conference on Friday.

Tomorrow, I give my car to the mechanic, give my mind to teach a class, and then give my body to the pain doctor for a procedure to put anti-inflammatory stuff into the herniated disc (and hopefully not my spinal column).

This procedure to relieve pain is, ironically, very painful, so tomorrow’s out. And then in the three days remaining, I have to teach some more, prepare for the three additional classes that start the second I get back, have four other body appointments and a few other meetings, pack, do all the misc stuff like letters of rec and bills, book group, and book group night out to see Atwood’s fathom event. I’m also fielding some Atwood-related interviews.

And I haven’t even celebrated my Simpsons’ book being out yet!!!

So a little voice just said, “why not skip dyeing your hair for a while?”

It’s been many years since I wrote this blog about why I have been dyeing; maybe it’s time to change my mind.

It took a couple of years. There were literal tears, in addition to the proverbial blood and sweat. There was a too-quick last minute turnaround to the publisher that Denise had to handle when I was in Oxford.

But it’s here.

Once I got back from abroad, I was able to get back to my resolution about trying new recipes.

Lemon Garlic Chicken from Kitchn–excellent. Vanessa had recommended this on FB. It’s going into the rotation. I served it with linguine. A+

It’s been incredibly hot in Davis, so I was trying to find a cold noodle dish.

Rice Noodles with Shrimp and Coconut-Lime Dressing from Bon Appetit. This one didn’t really float our boat–there was something missing, but we couldn’t figure out what. C

Udon with Chicken and Garlicky Peanut Dressing from Bon Appetit. This one was better, though I wanted it to have more of a kick. B

Spicy Green Bean and Tofu Stir-Fry with Ground Bison from Food & Wine. I liked this one, but the tofu didn’t get a chance to soak up the flavor at all. Next time, I would marinate the tofu for quite a while first. B

Chilled Corn Soup with Basil from Neighborhood Roots. This was a hit at book group. (I didn’t strain it, though.) A+

Cioppino-style Soup with Shrimp from Food 52. Dante and I loved this one. We’re eating the leftovers tomorrow night for dinner. A+

Silky Tomato Soup with Corn from Cooking Light. Dante didn’t love it (he doesn’t like tomato soup to be interesting), but my friends all loved it and wanted the leftovers/recipe. A+

Thai Chicken with Basil from Food & Wine. This was exactly what it was meant to be–it made a great lunch over rice, but we wanted more sauce. B+

Cucumber Gin and Elderflower Martini from Kitchen Swagger. My chiropractor gave me lemons and cucumbers from his garden. This is one of the new recipes I tried with them. Yummy, if a bit sweet for me! A

Old favorites

I’m not sure where I got this one:

ANGEL HAIR WITH GREEN-AND-YELLOW-TOMATO SAUCE

• 2 tablespoons pure olive oil 
• 4 garlic cloves, minced 
• 2 large shallots, minced 
• 1 pound yellow tomatoes, diced 
• 1 pound ripe green heirloom tomatoes, such as Green Zebra, diced 
• 1/4 cup chopped basil 
• 2 sage leaves, finely chopped 
• Salt 
• 1/2 pound angel hair pasta 
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature, or 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil 

1. In a skillet, heat the oil. Add the garlic and cook over low heat until fragrant, 2 minutes. Add the shallots and cook over moderate heat, stirring, until softened, 4 minutes. 
2. In a bowl, toss the tomatoes with the garlic, shallots, basil and sage. Season with salt. 
3. In a pot of boiling salted water, cook the pasta until al dente; drain and transfer to the large bowl. Toss well with the butter; serve.

My mom’s Banana Bread

3 overripe bananas

2 eggs

1/2 cup butter or butter-flavored crisco

1 1/2 Tbs sour cream

1 tsp lemon juice

1 c. sugar

2 c. flour

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

Blend it all. My mom does it in a blender. I use a mixing bowl and beaters.

Turn into a greased or PAMed bread loaf pan.

Bake at 350 for 55-65 minutes.

Me: Where’s the bathroom?

Her: By the bar.

Me: My mother taught me to always pee before an adventure.

Her: That’s a good plan.

[A few minutes later.]

Me: Does the smoke ever bother you?

Hostess: [coughs for a while] I swear on my mom’s life that was real. Can I get you some champagne?

Me: I’m going to get some whiskey at the bar. If one is going to see a Scottish play-inspired piece, one should have Scottish whiskey.

Her: Yes.

[I hear multiple people ask her where the bathroom is.]

Me: You know–it would make your job easier if we hung the head of a traitor here. We could hang a sign on him that says where the bathroom is.

Her: I enjoy you.

[I get called into the performance space.]

Me: I wish you could go with me. Goodbye, dearest partner in greatness!

Her: [taking my hand] Goodbye, whiskey girl!

Yesterday, I had delicious cuban food, saw Oklahoma and Hannah Gadsby’s Douglas. (It was FREEZING in the second theater, and now I feel gross after spending 2.5 hours there.)

Today, I’m working on my presentation, meeting with a former student for breakfast, and then heading into Central Park. I’m hitting the Neue for sure. And then my back will decide if we’re doing the Met, which won last night’s informal poll.

And then: I get to go to a comedy club and see one of my former comedy students perform!

Today, I have set up appointments to meet with six former students who want to get advice for classes to take, for improving their writing further, for choosing a grad program, for life.

It’s Summer Session 2. I honestly can’t remember the last time I took a summer session off.* After many long years, I finally am. (Not the whole summer, mind you; I just got back from an intensive Summer Abroad course, teaching 8 units in 4 weeks.)

But I’m still answering messages from my students. And I’m still going to pay to park so I can hold some office hours to help them.**

Having office hours requires an office.

So imagine my distress to learn that in the current bargaining session with my union, you have proposed taking my office away.

The laws (and you) require that I keep my students’ confidentiality. As I’m sure you understand, students bring up confidential information when they meet with me. We discuss their grades, their health problems, their hesitation in coming out to their parents, their sometimes difficult relationships with other people here.

I am required to keep this information confidential, so I need an office.

Common decency requires that other things be kept confidential, though the law doesn’t say anything about it. Sometimes, they’re homesick, crying, angry, despondent. They tell me about how their dreams are being crushed, how their parents don’t want them to pursue what they care about, how they need help fighting for a new dream.

Honor requires me to keep this confidential, so I need an office.

You say I could do all of this without my own office, that I just need a locker. What about the student who needs to talk through how to survive college now that her parents have been deported? The student who is being sent back to China after failing too many classes? The student who doesn’t know how to talk about how he used to cut himself, but wants to try?

Yes, these students should talk to counselors, but some of them are told they have to wait to do so. And, quite frankly, they often come to me first. And in emergencies, I walk them to the counseling center.

It’s vital that these students can come to me in a safe location, not just try to catch me at my locker, so I need an office.

You require me to be a mandatory reporter, so I need an office.

You require me to keep any projects (which are confidential) they haven’t picked up for a year, so I need an office.

I teach twice as many classes (more actually, with the independent studies and freshman seminars) as my tenured peers, which requires lots of office hours, so I need an office.

Speaking of independent studies, the classroom for them is my office, so I need an office.***

Since I prepare syllabi and grade essays and grade homework, I need an office.

Half of the students in my always-full office hours are former students. Many of them end up asking me for letters of recommendation and for mentoring.

Since I still meet with and write for those former students, I need an office.

I am currently in charge of the Upper Division Composition Exam. Hundreds of confidential files live in my office and, at certain times of year, need to be spread out all over my desk. Lots of confidential conversations about the exam happen there as well. Thus, I need an office.

(There is a staff person assigned to assist me with the Upper Division Composition Exam. It would be awkward if I didn’t have an office but she did, so I need an office.)

I serve on several campus committees, so I need an office.

All of the grad students in my building have offices, whether they’re teaching or not, whether they’re staying away from campus for the quarter or not. I work with some of them. The idea that I would have to go to their office to talk about their dissertations because the university sees them (but not me) as deserving of one is absurd, so I need an office.

I am an official mentor for the Guardian program, so I need an office.

I am an unofficial mentor for lots of other students, many of whom encounter me through the work I do with STEP, so I need an office.

I am the faculty adviser for a student group; I am with the students at least once a week, so I need an office.

When I publish the peer-reviewed journal I edit, “UC Davis” is behind my name. When I publish articles and books (I have two books coming out this year!), “UC Davis” is behind my name. When I present at conferences (nine this calendar year!), “UC Davis” is behind my name. When give guest lectures, “UC Davis” is behind my name.

Taking away my office implies that my research has no value here, even though you’re happy to feature that work in your publicity.

I’m assuming you would rather I keep saying “UC Davis” instead of “Independent Scholar” when I do these things, so I need an office.

To keep my job, you require that my teaching be “excellent.”**** What makes me “excellent” is the time and attention I give my students, not just my in-class performance. To remain excellent, I need an office.

I am an award-winning teacher, partially because I have an office in which to do all of these things.

My fellow lecturers in this system all do much more than just teach and go home. We care about our students–we work with them, listen to them, guide them, and inspire them, and we strive for excellence in everything we do, so we need offices.

Endnotes:

*This letter is not about how you only pay me 60% of my class rate when I teach in the summer, even though I have to do the same amount of work as I do in a regular term.

**This letter is not about how you charge me hundreds of dollars to park at work every year.

***This letter is not about how the students pay you to do independent studies with me but how you not only refuse to pay me, you refuse to consider these extra courses when I ask for raises. It is also not about how you’re trying to change the guidelines so I can never get another merit raise again.

****This letter is not about how you are also trying to change my contract to say that I can be fired at any time, with no notice or cause.

Students, if you’re reading this and wondering whom to talk to about how all of your teachers, not just tenure-track professors, need offices, here’s where to start:

Professor Kristin Lagattuta, Chair, Academic Senate, 402 Mrak Hall,
University of California, Davis, 95616, (530) 752-4919, aschair@ucdavis.edu

Gary May, Chancellor, Fifth Floor, Mrak Hall, University of California, Davis
(530) 752-2065, chancellor@ucdavis.edu

Janet Napolitano, President, University of California, 1111 Franklin St., 12th Floor, Oakland, CA 94607, president@ucop.edu

Eleni Kounalakis, Lieutenant Governor, State Capitol, Suite 1114, Sacramento, CA 95814, (916) 445-8994, https://ltg.ca.gov/contact/

Assemblymember Cecilia Aguiar-Curry, State Capitol, P.O. Box 942849, Sacramento, CA 94249-0004,
Tel: (916) 319 2004, https://lcmspubcontact.lc.ca.gov/PublicLCMS/ContactPopup.php?district=AD04

Senator Bill Dodd, State Capitol, Room 4032, Sacramento,  CA  95814, (916) 651-4003, https://sd03.senate.ca.gov/contact

[If you’re not from Davis, you can look up their representatives here: http://findyourrep.legislature.ca.gov]

“No one else is here,” he said. “Do you want to see the private rooms?”

Of course I did.

The official tour of the old Theatre Royal in Bath was at an end. The tour guide and I had spent a delightful hour and a half together already, since no one else showed up.

The Theatre Royal got its name because it got a royal seal–it was the first theatre to do so outside of London, which legitimized it. It opened in 1750 and had to undergo a lot of renovations–there just weren’t enough seats to fill the demand, especially when a young actress called Sarah Siddons took the stage.

The theatre closed in 1805, but the building became a Catholic Chapel in 1809 (to 1863). Catholics in Protestant England at this time were not allowed to be buried in consecrated public ground, so they were buried in the basement.

The spirit of the theatre held, though, since one of the priests was a famous orator; non-Catholics would attend his homilies just to hear him.

In 1865, the Masons made the building their home in Bath. Unfortunately, after WWII bombing damaged the building, the city wanted to demolish it. The Masons raised enough money from within to save the building themselves.

I hadn’t known much about Masons before taking this tour. I mean, I’d seen the Stonecutter episode of The Simpsons, but that’s about it.

Luckily, my lovely guide was a Mason. He explained that the reputation for secrecy came from Masons in long-ago centuries always being in danger of being kidnapped. Were you a rich man who wanted a castle or a wall but you didn’t have a Mason? Apparently the answer was to steal one. Thus, the secret meetings and handshakes were to keep themselves safe.

Today, the Masons are largely a philanthropic organization.

I learned The Knights Templar are an arm of the Masons.

Besides getting to be in a Templar prayer room, the Masons’ private meeting room, and the basement of artifacts and old tombs, I was also shown a part of the building that has not been excavated or restored–it’s part of the basement too damaged from the bombings. There are certainly some ancient Catholic bodies there.

I am so thankful that the Masons have kept this building and its history alive.

And I’m even more thankful that no one else showed up for the tour.