In the course of my anthology research, I've been learning about a Australian poet named Oodgeroo Noonaccul (formerly known as Kath Walker), who was a prominent Aboriginal activist as well as a poet and a painter. In 1974, as she was returning from a conference in Nigeria, her plane was hijacked on the tarmac at Dubai's airport. The tale is amazing and awful, and the University of Queensland's Fryer Library site tells it better than I can. Suffice it to say that Noonaccul is the author of "Australia's only literary work created on a sickbag at the point of a gun."

I had a wonderful morning teaching 9th and 10th graders yesterday, with the only downside being a room clock set to the wrong time. And I thought I'd been pacing myself so well.

In other news, on Saturday I will be providing live entertainment at the Harmony craft fair. Yes, you can drop by and listen to me sing and play carols with my friend Dave as my son Paul hawks brownies and whoopie pies to the crowd. Also, you can criticize my cooking: I will be responsible for a vat of corn chowder and several dozen rolls. According to my 3 a.m. subconscious, something will go wrong with them, though my 9 a.m. conscious can't remember what.