Nate the security officer warned me it was coming but we have had such a balmy autumn I was lulled into a false sense of security. Over the past two days the temperatures have dropped, and the Simon and Garfunkel line ” going home/ where the New York City winters aren’t bleeding me” has taken on a new resonance. I just can’t get that song out of my head – it’s become an ear worm.
It’s easy to remain unaware of the changing season when you’re hermetically sealed in the overheated college building. And then you come out and your nostrils stick together with the cold. The woollen caps and snoods are out and I’m seriously considering finding some kind of headwear that will keep me warm. But you have to be careful about that kind of thing at a certain age. One particular breed of New Yorker are the elderly ladies with the quaint hats, and as much as I admire their style I’m not ready to become one of those just yet. There was one yesterday in the supermarket dressed like Charlie Chaplin, complete with bowler hat and bright red lipstick. This being New York, nobody batted an eyelid. My eyes swivelled at first, because basically I’m a just a small town girl (♫ ♫) and still getting used to the wonderful freedom here. But despite her unusual appearance she chatted away aimiably and helped me choose my soup as if she had been my Aunty Gwen. Anyway the hunt is on for a hat with chutzpah.
Last assignments are being finished, including a beast of a project renowned among students as a rite of passage that will make you or break you. It consists of designing a test, and making explicit the test construct, specs, design, and other procedures. Then you administer it to some hapless evening class. After scoring you do a statistical analysis of the findings, demonstrate how crappy your test was, and say how you would improve it the next time. All this stretches over 13 weeks and is written up in a paper about EIGHTY PAGES LONG. The saving grace is that you work on it with a partner so that you share the anguish. Kevin and I are on page 75 and are putting this large baby to bed by Sunday.
Next week when classes finish, the holiday celebrations begin. And then its homeward bound for Christmas.