From the desk of Professor Chicken

Anyone curious about life in my neck of the woods should see the excellent film Winter's Bone, which is set in a rural Ozark community that has some things in common with the area in which I live. The things that resonated the most were the unspayed, unneutered animals chained up outside in the cold and how it was normal for people to have guns, ATVs, and a horse but no food.

Before moving here, neither Eric nor I had lived in a place with this kind of poverty. In fact, we'd only ever seen this kind of poverty in other countries. According to a woman we know from the UU church, our area is the thirteenth poorest district or county in the U.S. But this community differs from Winter's Bone in that there's a university here -- although, as the UU person put it, it's not a "real school" -- and there are plenty of people who have money and live comfortably. There's even a golf course and some McMansions. But down the street from where we live is a house with cinder blocks on the roof holding down shingles and tar paper. On the way to this house is a derelict trailer park next to a stream where a sign reads "Do not throw trash into the creek." Last winter when a friggin' arctic blast kept temperatures below 30, I saw native kids without coats in the grocery store.

Speaking of arctic blasts, it was 19 this morning. One week ago today it was 75. It was over 30 by the time I left the house, but I was cold in spite of the gloves, fleece hat, two pairs of pants (I kid you not), undershirt, long-sleeved shirt, fleece pullover, fleece vest, and down jacket. I am convinced, perhaps irrationally, that I would not feel the cold so much in a blue state. Or even a swing state.

In lighter news, Eric's birthday a week and a half ago was quite the fiesta. I baked a cake and joined him and his colleagues for lunch, but the real surprise was the entire front office decorated in a Star Wars theme. Here is a picture of my favorite storm trooper. The next day, Sasha/Snåsa was featured in the Tulsa World. Yesterday I was at the university's Broken Arrow campus, and the director of the writing center asked, "Was that your cat in the newspaper?"