7.63 miles of bliss

In general, everyone on the bike path is smiling. It's as if we're all members of a secret club, the club that gets to enjoy their commute on a scenic rails-to-trails tunnel of leaves instead of battling traffic to go the same distance in half the time.

After a long hiatus, I dusted off my bike in May, and began a once-a-week ride from home to office, 7.63 miles door-to-door, 40-45 minutes. My mood about going to the office instantly improved. I'm not a daily commuter, mind you, since I still haven't figured out a way to wear heels and a pencil skirt on my bike, and teaching when I'm a little ripe, dotted with bugs and slightly spattered with pine needles would no doubt negate my chili pepper status on Rate My Professor.

But for those days when the weather cooperates and I'm not especially visible on campus, I love this bike ride. It takes me over a gnarled wood railroad bridge, with spectacular views of the Connecticut River and the hills beyond; past a Polish deli, an ice cream stand, a book store where cyclists get 10% off, a bike store where they'll fix you right up if you mess up your spokes during Bike-to-Work week (ahem, so I'm told) and the Coca-Cola bottling plant that often smells like cherry or grape Kool-Aid; through tassels of corn, pastures of cows, dark woods and a field where buffalo roam; around toads, snakes, turtles, hawks, geese and songbirds. And it's flat.

I bring my bike into my office, since my request for a bike rack near my building was unceremoniously denied, and for the most part enjoy the envious stares of my colleagues and the complete ambivalence of students. This being New England, I know my bike commute days are numbered for the season, but for now, it's the most enjoyable way to get from here to there.

Back in the Summer of '09

The 3 County Fair (Um, Hampshire, that's one... and... and...) is under way, I'm finishing up the 930-page book I started reading in early July, my tomatoes are wilting, and the academic monkey suit comes off its hanger on Monday evening, so I guess the summer must be over.

Compared to last summer, when this blog saw a lot of Spain-themed action, I had my hands full in the last two months pulling together a manuscript. I sent it off to a publisher last week and finally cleaned off my desks (the ones in my home office, work office, and the always-cluttered one in my head). Now I wait to see if said publisher wants it, and, in this week before classes start, I've taken a few days "off" to recharge a bit before the semester. I haven't felt this free for two years. It won't last.

Writing a manuscript doesn't provide a whole lot of blog fodder, nor is it all that visually interesting, but it was a gratifying process that resulted in just shy of 95,000 words, 317 pages of piping hot prose, a deeper knowledge of colons and Chicago style, a newfound appreciation for epigraphs, an upgraded desk chair, a fondness for the air conditioning and the summer silence of the Smith College library periodicals room, and the sweet, sweet relief of a FedEx box in the mail. Huzzah!