Category Archives: 40DaysOfGoodShit

40DaysOfGoodShit, Biographical, Text

Stars and bacon

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(Lent is over but I can keep looking for #40DaysOfGoodShit. So this is Day 9. There’s probably a blog post in the idea that one might “honor Lent in my heart and try to keep it all the year”.)

So here’s the good thing, which needless to say I watched first thing in the morning…

And in the comments, someone talked about the fact that their morning routine is to put a vinyl record on while they drink their coffee. A long time ago, I tried something similar (except with cassettes), so I took that specific comment as my motivation.

Lemme be clear: I hate it. I liked waking up in a warm bath made of content. I liked my brain slowly coming up to speed as I play games on my phone or scroll a feed of “content”, snug and sleepy under the covers.

But consciously choosing not to be on my phone first thing is making me aware of how much the phone makes me time-blind. And I do not like the “oh shit!” moment when I realize that the morning is getting away from me, when I’m late and everything has to be rushed, when the first thing I really feel in the morning is guilt.

I rather like feeling that I’ve been conscious all morning, that I know what time it is, that I’ve made meaningful choices before I even get to work.

I like choosing to walk the dog, instead of remembering that I have to.

I like the fact that this is reminding me that I don’t do my best listening early in the morning. (Heck, I can’t even pick a new album some mornings… it’s been The Allman Brothers 3 times in a row and I’m proud that I managed to flip the record once.) But at least that has motivated me to do some intentional listening in the evenings.

I swear my coffee even tastes better when there’s no Facebook in it. Or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that now, my coffee tastes.

40DaysOfGoodShit, Text

Easter Lily

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It’s late on Good Friday and I’m walking the dog and I remember a new U2 EP just dropped.

Completely unpredictable that this would be an album about longing and remembrance and the afterlife.

It’s a solid mid-tier U2 album, jangly and muscular, big ideas and big melodies. And walking in the dark, looking up at the sky, the opening tracks acknowledge grief and absolutely refuse to let it drive out joy. Anthemic tributes to connections that last.

I look to my right, toward the mountains where I feel my father. The moon is coming up, but it’s edges are obscured by trees. A pyre of blazing orange, a beacon in the east.

Featured image is “Lilies” by Bart Everson, CC-BY-2.0 at https://flic.kr/p/eya8TY

40DaysOfGoodShit, Images

Nothing but flowers

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For #40DaysOfGoodShit days 5-7, I’ve been noticing flowers.

Dead Nettles

According to the PictureThis app on my phone and Pl@ntNet on the web, this is dead nettle. Looks pretty lively to me.

The lawns in my new neighborhood are full of the stuff. This makes me very happy – these large clumps of low-lying flowers coming up as a sign of spring. I’m sure plenty of people would define these as weeds and perhaps a sign that the builders of the development cheaped out when laying the sod, but I was pretty glad to see these purple eruptions instead of just watching brown lawns slowly turning green.

IMG_3878

I just like this shot because I feel like it gives the scale of the flora better.

And then the very next day this happened.

Tulips in the snow

At the same time that I am done with this winter, something about the variability we’re getting this year feels like home to my Washingtonian heart. If you don’t like the weather, wait 15 minutes.

Berea College has a pretty public commitment to trying to keep its grounds resilient and biodiverse (while also tidy and safe). So it was unexpected but not surprising to discover that the lawns are full of springbeauty.

Springbeauty

This doesn’t begin to get the scope of it. There’s literally blocks of the stuff. Like the dead nettle, it’s lovely to see that everything doesn’t have to be just so.

Also, according to Pl@ntNet, springbeauty is formally known as Claytonia virginica, which sounds to me like a magnificent character name. “Claytonia Virginica Walsh sipped her tea, looked at the baseball sitting just inside her fence, and tried to decide which child would be brave enough to open the gate and retrieve it. It looked like the older boys were going to make the little squirrelly one do it.”

*It’s conceivable that’s Claytonia caroliniana, but that’s not nearly as good a character name. I suppose Claytonia Caroline, who goes by Cat, could be a detective in a cozy mystery series, but I’m not impressed.

40DaysOfGoodShit, Text

I’d rather just call him The Man

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My father passed away two and a half weeks ago.

There’s more to say. So much more to say. But in an attempt to rejuvenate my #40daysofgoodshit practice, here’s Day 4.

My brother did an amazing job on my dad’s obituary. He asked me for editing assistance, most of which he didn’t need, but I’m honored to have been part and I did add a detail that felt important. My other brother and mother also contributed.

And then it occurred to me that it was drafted in Google Docs and posted on an obituary site that we don’t control or even know how long it will stay up. And I’m also doing a lot of thinking and feeling about self-archiving and digital hoarding and backups and “lots of copies keeps stuff safe“.

This website still lives on a server I don’t control, but at least I do have the keys. And so here it is. I’m achingly, desperately proud of both my brother’s writing and my father’s life.

Joseph Aloysius Murphy

September 2, 1938 – March 3, 2026

Joseph Aloysius Murphy, 87, of Rockville, Maryland, died peacefully on March 3, 2026, following a long illness.

He was born in Nanticoke, Pennsylvania, to Joseph and Sophia Murphy, and was raised in Ashley, PA.

A lifelong devout Catholic, Joe attended St. Leo’s high school in Ashley before studying chemical engineering at the Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., making him the first member of his family to have ever attended college. It was here that he met his beloved Anne Reilly and began a love story for the ages.

It was also at Catholic University where Joe tried his hand at boxing. It was not a successful venture.

Despite this setback, Joe went on to an accomplished vocation as a nuclear engineer. He dedicated his entire career to working for the federal government at the Atomic Energy Commission (later known as the Nuclear Regulatory Commission). His employment frequently took him overseas, unlocking a lifelong passion for international travel. His career included frequent work in Taipei, Cologne, Frankfurt, and Paris; together with Anne, he also traveled to Ireland, England, Italy, and Russia, among many other destinations. Each trip aroused his lifelong curiosity, filling him with stories of amusing local customs, breathtaking museums, and, most of all, exotic local cuisine.

Travel was but one of Joe’s passions. He was a voracious reader, most often studying Irish history and reading Irish authors and poets, but also inhaling any spy novel in arm’s reach. He was a dedicated member of the Knights of Columbus, where he served as Grand Knight of the Rock Creek Council, and held numerous chairmanships for the Maryland State Council. He loved baseball; boxing; dogs; jazz, folk, and country music; photography; wine; Guinness; and restaurants, where he would often hold court in the company of his family.

He was a master storyteller who passed along his love of humor to his children. His stories might end in a pitched fit of laughter, or a cocked eyebrow for a more subtle ending. It was a true joy for his family to hear him laugh – a high pitched, oscillating howl that was in every way discordant with his steady, baritone voice.

At work, in the Knights of Columbus, and at home, Joe was known as a generous mentor. He recognized talent in others and offered time, space, and advice to help it grow.

He is survived by his wife of 56 years, Anne; his “three turkeys,” Joseph (Alison), Thomas (Jennifer), and Kevin (Colleen); and his nine grandchildren: Molly, Bridget, Lilly, Jude, Jack, Katie, Fiona, Calvin, and Lina. He is preceded in death by his parents and six of the most loyal and charming Irish Wolfhounds God ever gifted to mankind: Finbarr, Aulin, Shannon, Jupiter, Siobahn, and Rebel. He was steadfastly devoted to them all, even the humans.

Joe died surrounded by family who were alternately singing, praying, and sharing their memories in his final hours. He slipped away while they were distracted and laughing at old family stories, making his a true Irish Goodbye.

A public wake will take place on Sunday, March 8, from noon to 4:00 PM at Devol Funeral Home, 10 E Deer Park Dr, Gaithersburg, MD. A full funeral mass will be on Monday, March 9 at 10:00 AM, at St. Mary’s Church, 520 Viers Mill Rd, Rockville, MD, where he had been a faithful parishioner for 56 years.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the Rock Creek Knights of Columbus or to the Catholic University School of Engineering.

40DaysOfGoodShit, Daily Create, DS106, Images, Text

Stand in the place where you work

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Daily Create #5162 asks where we sit while we do our Open Education work. So here’s a picture of the new office.

Pictures on the wall

In part, I’m just glad that I got those pictures on the wall reasonably straight and spaced without actually measuring. (My home walls have not fared quite so well.) And they tell a little story – the panorama is Cal Ripken’s last at bat, a nod to growing up an O’s fan and paying more attention to baseball in the 1990s than I do now. I picked up “Artist vs Star” at a campus art sale at Kenyon because I liked it and it struck me as edupunky/DS106-y. The Hot Licks Blues Fest poster of Taj Mahal is for my musical side. And the framed poem was a going-away gift from my friend and colleague Chris Gillen, biology professor and poet. It’s titled “How we got through Covid-19 and the times before and after” and it is up there to remind me that I’m actually pretty good at this pedagogy support thing.

Which is nice, because it turns out this is also bell hooks’ first office at Berea. And that reset my impostor syndrome real good. I mean I’m not filling her chair in any literal or metaphorical sense but… see earlier comment, I don’t not-believe in signs.

Anyway it’s neat to imagine Dr. hooks also enjoying this exact view. (Photo taken in December).

Berea College in the snow out my office window
40DaysOfGoodShit, Images

Long as I can see the light

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On December 8th, I started a new job at Berea College and found out that my office is in the same room as the Danforth Chapel.

Later that afternoon, we had a family-and-doctors Zoom call about my father’s declining health and the need to start having end-of-life discussions.

I don’t believe in signs. But I don’t not-believe in signs.

It’s a bit of a cheat to call this #40DaysOfGoodShit Day 2, since the photos were taken the Monday before Lent, but it’s my second post in the series and there you have it.

We had another call that day, with a hospice team.

I walked into the chapel after the call. There was a break in the clouds outside such that the sun came streaming through one window and not its neighbor.

Sun coming through the window in Danforth Chapel, Berea College (retouched)

And the colored light fell on the podium in a way that was almost tangible. Illuminating the air itself. Not quite ghostly but perhaps Holy Ghostly.

Light on podium, Danforth Chapel, Berea College (retouched)

I post these, partly to share them with you because it was beautiful, and partly to ask for tips on photo editing. Below you can see an album of the originals of these photos and the retouched versions (as well as an alternate angle which frankly I just don’t love as well). I’ve tried to boost the colors and diminish the brightness a bit to make the light stand out more, like it did in person. It’s not entirely successful at recreating the ethereal effect, but that may just be a limitation of moving from 2 dimensions to 3 (and/or taking photos with my cell phone). But if anyone has ideas of other ways to edit the photos, I’d love to hear them. Actually, they’re all CC-BY-NC; you’re welcome to have at it if you just want to tinker.

Light on podium, Danforth Chapel, Berea College
40DaysOfGoodShit, Text

That I should rise

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#40DaysofGoodShit, #1

The hospice where my father is staying has a full-time music therapist on staff.

A ruddy young man with a neat reddish beard. He asked my father what he’d like to hear and Dad said “anything Irish.” He said he knew “Joe Murray” would have some Irish in him, took his guitar case off his back, and hit the ceiling fan with it.

He played us The Wild Rover and When Irish Eyes are Smiling and Danny Boy and something about St. Patrick’s Day in New York City and one more I can’t remember. And then he sang one we’d never heard before and he said he’d only heard once, about “where’ve you been, Bridey Flynn.”

Dad smiled and tapped his foot the whole time.

And the music therapist went to pack up and tapped the ceiling fan with the head of his guitar again.

The photo “Guitar Scales” is by Alan Levine, CC0 at https://flic.kr/p/RDaeis