All Posts By

Jennifer L. Holberg

Essay

Flies and Tomato Blight

So…about that famous fly at last week’s vice presidential debate. Turns out, it was simply joining a long line of illustrious Musca domestica. I know this because this summer I received a copy of Bob Hudson’s wonderful new book, The…
Essay

Meeker Mornings

Midweek. I find myself muttering “how is it only Tuesday?” Perhaps your life, too, is a little bit of a whirlwind at the moment. I don’t have time to read long posts (even really good ones), and I definitely don’t…
Essay

Teaching: Year 30

This morning—perhaps even as you are reading this—I’ll be beginning the new academic year. My 30th as a college teacher. And fittingly, I think, I’ll be in the same course at 8 a.m. as I was in the fall of…
Essay

ICYMI: Summer 2020 Edition

I actually thought I'd watch more TV in the pandemic than I have. I'm not sure why I didn't--maybe because I spent so many of my days looking at a computer screen that I just couldn't look at another screen…
Essay

All That We Behold

I try not to say this too often or too loudly, especially out of recognition and respect of those whose lives are very different, but I have actually loved staying home these last months. Despite what most people seem to…
Essay

A different kind of sheep

I have to admit that I’m rather perplexed at how mask-wearing has become such a hot topic. Admittedly, it didn’t help when the pandemic first appeared, and we were all told to not wear them in order to have sufficient…
Essay

#Amplify

When we had to postpone the Festival of Faith & Writing this spring, one of my great sadnesses was that we had so many amazing writers booked, and we’d have to wait a year (and hope for their continued availability)…
Essay

A Matter of Course

It wasn’t until my thirties that I even considered not wearing a slip. This is not, perhaps, the most shocking admission, though it may be one that results in some of you not continuing this essay, either because it strikes…
Essay

In Feast or Fallow

Tomorrow is my mother’s birthday. She would have been 77, and you would have known it was her birthday because she would have told you--probably very soon after you had become friends with her. She loved her birthday. And she…
Essay

Written Together

I admit it: after all these days at home on my own, I’m growing tired of words. Maybe not “words,” exactly, and certainly not books. In fact, I’m probably not reading as much as I’d hoped, what will teaching and…