Solo Bouquet

After a long day at the campus, I drove home knowing that my camera did not contain even one photo. We are in Week 3 of the new semester, but I have not yet felt the urge to blip anything about school.

I'm frustrate about having to move my campus office location; the chaos of this transition has been taxing. I'm sure this is due in part to the necessity of sharing an office and then the first office we were offered isn't big enough to turn around in. So we've now been offered a small conference room on the outskirts of the campus, which will be an inconvenience because of its distance from the classroom where I teach, the Writing Center, all faculty meetings, and the mail and photocopy room.

The only bonus in all of this is that my office partner will be my friend Dr. Arend Flick. He is a gentleman and a scholar and the two of us shared an office for many years in the days when the campus was younger and we were too. I think that spending time with Arend will be the silver lining in all of this upheaval.

So how does that lead to a yellow rose bud? Well, when I arrived home at almost 5:00 p.m., Mr. Fun had been gone without a stop at home all day, so Chloe and her friends were ready to exit their crates and we all walked around the backyard. Correction -- they ran, pranced, danced, and hopped all over. As their excitement subsided, I reached into my pocket, pulled out my point and shoot, and starting hunting for a target.

Then I remembered that the yellow rose bush was about to blossom. So I walked toward the fountain side of the backyard and there it was -- one single rose bud.

Its simplistic beauty and its glow -- whether the rain pours, the wind blows, or the sun shines -- gave me perspective. So for a moment I just paused to marvel at its loveliness.

Along with the new month, this solo bouquet has arrived -- when I was a child we thought of March as the season to fly a kite. That would be fun.

Good night from Southern California.
Rosie (& Mr. Fun and Chloe & her friends), aka Carol