A Long Friday

It’s finally Friday, but instead of my usual work-from-home Friday, I’ll be at the museum today. I have a tour to give this morning. Normally, I look forward to giving tours, but I’m not particularly looking forward to this one. Part of the reason is that I’m still dealing with a migraine. The other reason is that it’s a long tour. Earlier this week, on Tuesday evening, I gave three tours back-to-back over a two-hour period. Today it’s just one group, but it will still be two hours—an hour in the museum followed by another hour in the basement collections.

The one advantage is that it’s a small group, so I won’t have to project my voice the way I do for larger tours. I can speak in a normal conversational tone, which should make things a little easier. I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I’m also not the biggest fan of the teacher bringing the group. Hopefully, the students will make up for that.

One thing I’ve learned over the years is that when I’m actively giving a tour, I can usually set the migraine aside for a while. Focusing on the visitors, the artifacts, and the stories helps me push through the pain. The downside is that once the tour is over, I usually crash, and the migraine comes back even stronger. If that happens today, I should be able to head home afterward, which is something I’m definitely looking forward to.

I don’t have any real plans for the weekend, and honestly, that sounds perfect. I need the chance to rest and hopefully get this migraine under control. If I’m feeling well enough, I may drive up to Burlington to see Grogu and the Mandalorian, but that will depend entirely on how I’m feeling.

I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend. Sunday marks the anniversary of the Stonewall Riots, and there will be Pride celebrations and parades taking place across the country this weekend. If you attend one, have fun, celebrate safely, and take a moment to remember those who came before us—the LGBTQ+ people who were forced to hide who they were, who risked everything to live authentically, and whose courage made it possible for so many of us to celebrate openly today. We owe them a debt of gratitude that should never be forgotten.

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Migraine Morning

This will be short because I woke up with a migraine and am heading back to bed as soon as I finish writing. I got up long enough to feed Isabella, send a text to my boss, and put together this post.

Some mornings are just like that. The best thing I can do is listen to my body, take my medication, and rest. Hopefully, a few more hours of sleep will help, and I’ll be feeling better later today. Until then, Isabella has been fed, work has been notified, and I’ve done the one thing I wanted to accomplish this morning.

Now, it’s back to bed.

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A Half Day

I worked late last night giving tours to kids attending a camp on campus this week. It was after 9:00 p.m. by the time I got home, which meant it took me a while to wind down for the night. Even Isabella seemed to notice. She let me sleep a little later than usual this morning, a rare gift from a cat who normally believes that breakfast should be served at precisely the same time every day.

I’d really like to go back to sleep for a while, but I know that’s probably not going to happen. Once I’m awake enough to feed Isabella, my day has effectively begun. She may return to one of her favorite napping spots, but she has made it very clear that I should remain awake and available. Instead of trying to go back to sleep, I’ll make a cup of coffee and something for breakfast before it’s time for me to stop eating and drinking because of the ultrasound.

The good news is that I’m working from home today, even though I’ll be back at the museum tomorrow and again on Friday, which is usually my work-from-home day. Today will only be a half day, though, since this afternoon I’ll make the trip up to Burlington for my biannual liver ultrasound.

Fortunately, my recent bloodwork showed that my liver has remained stable and has not gotten any worse. That’s always encouraging news. Even so, my doctor continues to order an ultrasound every six months to screen for liver cancer or any other signs that my condition may be progressing. It’s one of those appointments I never particularly look forward to, but I’m grateful that we keep a close eye on things. Catching a problem early is always better than discovering it too late.

For now, though, I’m going to enjoy a quiet morning at home, get some work done, and spend a little time with Isabella before heading north. Some days are busy, some days are routine, and some days are simply about being thankful for good test results and another ordinary day.

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Love and Death

Love and Death

By Lord Byron (George Gordon Byron)

1. 
   

I watched thee when the foe was at our side,
Ready to strike at him—or thee and me,
Were safety hopeless—rather than divide
Aught with one loved save love and liberty.

2. 
   

I watched thee on the breakers, when the rock
Received our prow, and all was storm and fear,
And bade thee cling to me through every shock;
This arm would be thy bark, or breast thy bier.

3. 
   

I watched thee when the fever glazed thine eyes,
Yielding my couch and stretched me on the ground
When overworn with watching, ne’er to rise
From thence if thou an early grave hadst found.

4. 
   

The earthquake came, and rocked the quivering wall,
And men and nature reeled as if with wine.
Whom did I seek around the tottering hall?
For thee. Whose safety first provide for? Thine.

5.

And when convulsive throes denied my breath
The faintest utterance to my fading thought,
To thee—to thee—e’en in the gasp of death
My spirit turned, oh! oftener than it ought.

6. 
   

Thus much and more; and yet thou lov’st me not,
And never wilt! Love dwells not in our will.
Nor can I blame thee, though it be my lot
To strongly, wrongly, vainly love thee still.

About the Poem

There is something profoundly moving about Byron’s portrayal of unrequited love in this poem. The speaker recalls moments of danger, illness, disaster, and even death itself, and in every circumstance his thoughts turn toward the beloved. Love is revealed not as a fleeting emotion but as a steadfast devotion that persists through fear, sacrifice, and suffering.

What strikes me most is the poem’s ending. After all that devotion, the beloved does not return the speaker’s feelings. Yet there is no bitterness here. Instead, there is a painful acceptance: “Love dwells not in our will.” We do not choose whom we love, nor can we force another person to love us in return. The speaker recognizes this truth even as he continues to love “strongly, wrongly, vainly.”

During Pride Month, this poem resonates in a particular way. Many LGBTQ+ people know what it means to love without certainty of being loved back, whether because of social expectations, fear, distance, or circumstance. Byron’s poem reminds us that love itself is not shameful, even when it is unreturned. The courage to love honestly remains a beautiful thing, regardless of the outcome.

“Love and Death” was written by Lord Byron, one of the leading figures of the Romantic movement. The poem explores themes of devotion, sacrifice, mortality, and unrequited love. Through a series of dramatic scenes—war, shipwreck, illness, earthquake, and death—the speaker demonstrates the depth of his attachment to another person. The final stanza shifts from heroic devotion to heartbreak, revealing that the beloved does not share the speaker’s feelings.

The poem is often included in discussions of Byron’s love poetry because of its emotional intensity and its recognition that love exists beyond conscious choice or control.

About the Poet

Lord Byron (1788–1824), born George Gordon Byron, was one of the most influential poets of the Romantic era. Known for works such as Don Juan, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, and numerous lyric poems, Byron cultivated a reputation as both a literary genius and a scandalous public figure.

Modern readers often recognize Byron as a significant queer historical figure. His letters and journals reveal romantic and sexual relationships with both men and women, though such aspects of his life had to remain largely hidden in the society of his time. His poetry frequently explores themes of longing, desire, passion, and emotional conflict, making his work particularly resonant during Pride Month and in conversations about the history of LGBTQ+ lives and literature.

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Summer, Vermont Style

It’s Monday again, and a new work week begins.

Yesterday was the first day of summer, but you’d never know it here in Vermont. Once again, rain is in the forecast, although at the moment it looks like most of it will hold off until overnight. Even so, we’re expecting a cloudy day with a high of only 71 degrees.

Back in Alabama, it’s a very different story. In Montgomery, today’s low is 73 degrees, which is actually warmer than our expected high here in Vermont, and temperatures are forecast to reach 91 degrees. I’m very glad I’m not in Alabama. I’ve never enjoyed hot weather, and getting overheated and sweaty outdoors is one of the things that can trigger a migraine for me.

Curiously, exercise doesn’t seem to have the same effect. If I get hot and sweaty during a workout or spend time in a sauna, I’m usually fine. There’s just something about oppressive summer heat and humidity that my body doesn’t appreciate.

So while Vermont may not offer an abundance of sunshine, especially compared to other parts of the country, I’ll happily take cool temperatures, cloudy skies, and the occasional rainy day over Alabama’s summer heat. For me, it’s one of the many reasons I’m grateful to call Vermont home.

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