Big Balls in the Sky

Moonrise yesterday was stunning.  Just after sunset, in the purple glowing twilight, a giant ball appeared caught in my neighbor's tree.  The Mister, not normally as excited by the moon as I am, returned from choir practice to tell me to go outside and look at it.

It felt distinctly springy standing there watching the colors of the sky change.  Our yard is riddled with croci and little iris reticulata, the daffodils on the north and east sides are blooming (those against the south wall bloomed and faded long ago), the buds on the peach and lilacs are swelling, and the air smelled faintly sweet as the golden currant started to open.  Another neighbor's Bradford pear is mostly open and an apricot and a cherry (I think) a block away are blooming in a backyard.

Watching the moon, which felt obviously full, rise, I wondered how it could actually be waning.  For I knew that yesterday was the spring equinox (at 4:58 p.m. local time) and I knew that Easter comes the first Sunday after the first full moon after the equinox (a piece of information I have always enjoyed because it combines solar time [the equinox], lunar time [a full moon], and human calendars [day of the week] in what I now recognize as a pleasant combination of my scientific, pagan, and Christian sensibilities).  So if yesterday was the equinox and Easter is not for another full month, then the moon must have been past full (otherwise Easter would be this Sunday).

This morning I looked this up to confirm, and the full moon was at 8:42 p.m. local time just after I was admiring it, almost four hours after the astronomical equinox. I wondered if the disparity was something to do with the full moon being visible in Jerusalem or Rome or somewhere, or the day of the equinox rather than the moment of it.  It turns out that by the Georgian calendar, Easter is set as the first Sunday after the full moon after March 21 (representing the equinox) rather than the actual equinox.  Fascinating. (To me, anyway, literally).

Big balls in the sky keep surprising me.

Seasonal Madness

As we were driving north to Kansas yesterday, only an hour or two after we completely changed our weekend plans and decided to drive north, the Mister and I were a bit giddy.  It felt like spring break! march madness! youthful frivolity! having a ball in ball year! to be driving almost 300 miles each way for a basketball game.
In truth, we had practical reasons to drive to central Kansas, and wonderful parents/in-laws happy to put us up for the night, but it was still quite a lark to watch the second round of the NCAA Division 2 tournament.  The games was a nail biter, with the students from my institution down most of the game, and was tied with 14.9 seconds left.  A last second 3 pointer put my students ahead and they move on to the regional finals tomorrow night.

I rather hate tournaments because they make it such that almost all players end their season (and their sporting careers) with a loss, but they are also very exciting.

The Mister and I had actually already seen the regionals (first three rounds) of NCAA Division 2 Basketball (when our West Virginia institution hosted in 2007) but driving to another state with the kids to watch a college basketball game was a new ball year experience.

Take your boys to women's balls

College Basketball: Ball Year Ball Game 1

One of the first events of ball year was taking the family to watch a college basketball game last week.  Amidst all of the costumes and pageantry--many types of "balls" have that in common-- we saw students from the college at which I teach play a great game of basketball and end their undefeated conference season with a 101 point home win. 

When Dianthus called my parents to excitedly tell them about watching the game, he never mentioned that the students we were watching were female.  I don't think it occurred to him that that's an important detail.  And that makes me happy.

When the movie Hidden Figures about Katherine Johnson and the black female "calculators" at NASA came out two years ago, something about all of the "take your daughters to see Hidden Figures" publicity made me bristle.  While I am always for the making (and viewing of) good movies featuring mathematicians, intelligent women, and the space program, much less the combination of all three, it is not just young girls who need to be able to envision black women successfully navigating STEM careers. Many sons, including mine, need the message as well.

International Women's Soccer: Impetus for Ball Year 2019
(Here in Frisco, Texas in October)

"Ball Year" came about this year because we have tickets to see women from Korea, New Zealand, Nigeria, Brazil, and Jamaica play soccer against each other in France (and I want to throw another gala dance party).  In fewer than 100 days (the US Team started advertising mid-week) we'll be part of a foolish mania celebrating the athletic teamwork of women. Fanaticism over women playing sportsball is no less foolish than fanaticism over men playing sportsball, I grant you, but I'm pretty excited that my sons will get caught up in it, just like they get caught up in other foolish things (mens sportsball, computer games, re-tellings of Greek mythology, baking, what have you).

Mardi Gras- Prepared for Another Ball

In other ball news, thinking it was going to involve dancing, The Mister and I attended a Mardi Gras Party at the American Banjo Museum last night.  Hall of Famer Debbie Schreyer played a mean four-string with the Dixieland Pickup Band.  I like watching women lead and I like watching talent worth following getting followed.

Debbie Schreyer at the American Banjo Museum Krewe de Mardi Gras