On a day that refuses to end

My evenings are survivors

carrying--valiant as ants--

relics of their fallen friends.

They see me turn muddy, as I 

drink me (60% water, baby)

You'd think I am called grief.

I'm keeping an eye out for you  

yearning for you for when you 

are already inside (my head) 

First Day

Yesterday's Hawk Island hike with SS was magical. I came away with book and movie recommendations and the idea that I'm not the one who gets to decide who reads my stuff. Of course, I tell students this all the time, but I need to hear it too, sometimes.

Today was my first day back in the classroom since March. Yes, it's Sunday, but that's when the first-years start this year. My first-day jitters were keener than usual, but once back in the classroom, things settled into the usual. 

I don't think I have everyone's names yet as I usually do. Masked, even people I already know are hard to recognize; memorizing the names of new students when half their faces are out of view is going to be quite a challenge. Bless everyone who smiles with their eyes and nods in class.

Quieting

This lush, deciduous forest all around me, so vibrant-green and teeming with birdsong in the Baker Woodlot--although I'm never more than a mile from busy roads and traffic. 

My temptation to marvel at the richness of the canopy has to be balanced with the need to pay attention to my path crisscrossed with wayward roots and embedded rock. I look up for beauty, I look down for safety.

What lies ahead is revealed only in small glimpses. But...  my feet are on the path and I remember that the path has worked before. It can lead me from the cool breaths of solitude back into the warmth of messy but eager life. When I am ready.

Senior moment

Every year I keep expecting it to get easier when At heads to college. But it doesn't. It was awful that first year. And the second. And OMG, the third was a real sucker-punch.

The big difference is that At is now so like a grownup (I mean--he IS 21), and our dynamic has shifted enough that I don't have to try to hide my sadness anymore. I just embrace my old, needy mama role. 

He was dawdling over breakfast while I watered plants and I was sharing that I wasn't sad because of him leaving in the pandemic even--just sad about him leaving; how I had expected it to get easier; and who knows what next year might bring--again not because of the pandemic but because of grad school etc. and how far away THAT might be. He was so sweet, listened with empathy, and hugged me so tight--and I had myself a good (great!) cry. 

We packed his car together but then it wouldn't start. If it is possible for a face to both light up and fall at the same time, I think my face may have. But At was able to jump start it and proudly used to it reassure me of how he's a capable champion at life and then he set off for senior year.  💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

Nu and I had a sleepover in the rumpus room with Scout and Huck because, that's how we've been distracting ourselves since year one. 🤗 🤗 🤗 🤗 

Alright; Back to school

Lots of chronologically fixed and geographically immovable chores today--as in I had to show up at precise times to specific places and do stuff (pick up Nu's school supplies, check out my classroom tech, get COVID-tested, and lots of etc.). I felt so much anxiety driving to work (and every Trump sign spiked it/spooked me). 

Anyway, I had lots of new cuttings and plants with me since it had been months since I was last in my office, and I assumed my office plants wouldn't have made it. But they had all taken advantage of my overwatering the last time, and  although they looked so sad, they had survived. Yay! I supplemented some of the emptier looking planters, and then I had plenty left to make a nice welcome gift for a new colleague.

I picked up the college-issued safety kit from my mailbox and it had some very useful supplies (Alma plaid mask, thermometer for our mandatory daily health reporting, etc.) though obviously, the hand sani and anti-bac wipes aren't going to last very long. 

The COVID testing was weird, uncomfortable, overly intimate, and ugh. Earlier today, L had said that if she had to get tested every day as the White House staff supposedly does, she'd turn in her resignation. I chortled at that--"Yeah, L;" I teased: "THAT would be the reason YOU wouldn't work with this administration."

Back to School Party

At goes back to college on Friday and Nu starts school (online) on Monday, so it was time for my little monsters to have their annual back-to-school party. 

I made a playlist to share with them; they got some loot--a clean-start calendar, chakra stones to keep under their pillows, essential oils to boost immunity, lucky bamboo for the rest of 2020, water bottles for hydration (listed like that, I can see I skewed pandemic new-agey there!); and got pampered with facemasks and a mama pedicure while they watched a movie. 

All they had to do was pick out dinner and a movie. The dinner pick was easy-peasy (mint chicken), but picking out a movie took some time. They cycled through Ten Things I Hate About You and Clueless and Mean Girls and Napolean Dynamite and School of Rock. 

And then they began to improvise--Inglorious Basterds? I mean he taught Hitler A LESSON." Hahaha. I love my babies. They finally settled on Monsters University. 

Treasure

B dropped this jewel of a blanket off on the front porch for me today. I don't know what I did to deserve it. I rightly don't even know if this is knitting or crochet. I just know that it is absolutely beautiful and it must have taken hours on hours of work and love to make.

When I called Nu to see it, they thought something was wrong because I looked a bit shellshocked--I think I am, actually. I've known B as a student, colleague, and friend, but this new iteration as sister might be the best one yet. 

All the work and enough play

Scout gets so much love just being Scout! I'm not that lucky, so I have to work hard to make sure people are happy with me. 

But I worked so super hard today, I'd accomplished all the work stuff that needed to get done. And it was just 2:00 pm. I'd even managed to email all my students AND advisees AND independent scholars in a serious yet supportive way (or so I hope). 

That was the point at which I decided I deserved a massage. Big A was grilling for dinner, so I managed to bag an appointment with someone new, and off I went. 

I made it back in time for icy lemonade and coconut-y tomato gravy and dinner jokes. Long after everyone went back indoors, I hung out by myself listening to distant traffic, taking snapshots (memory/camera) of the sky, and pulling together songs for a 2020 playlist. 

Discoveries

Walk-and-talks with At and Nu (frequently up and down our driveway) are full of insights, jokes, and discoveries, but I guess we didn't expect actual physical discoveries like this mossy rock just off the path.  Was it always here? How did we not see it?

Here on the magic rock, is my little woodland Nu dappled in sunlight and lost in thought (they're very into plague doctor philosophy and aesthetics right now).

Another discovery: the story "Amma" by Sindya Bhanoo in Granta, not just set in my hometown of Chennai, but IN MY SCHOOL! OMG.

Tick-Tock

Outside at the picnic table (it's sad the playset it came with stayed behind two whole houses ago) my parents gave us when Nu was a toddler. 

The weather is perfect and the days are golden, and... At goes back to college in exactly one week.

In preparation for the goodbye, I binged Watchmen with At, which meant I had to watch a recap of the Alan Moore graphic novel and have At telling me every hour or so that Alan Moore is an anarchist and pointing out anarcho-stylistic elements I missed. I have no doubt that in two weeks I'll be thinking of this fondly as "good times." 😝

Love looks like...

I had to take Big A to the hospital today, and it freaked me out, so I'm posting something from a draft earlier this week.

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It is Big A's great basement reshuffle of 2020 (part 65 or something like that) and the raggedy ghouls who used to go up on the driveway in the days of Halloween parties past have neatly been hung up. 

I mentioned yesterday that I found their faces very creepy when I'm down there, and today I found that happier decorations--hearts and pumpkins, easter eggs and orbs--have completely blocked off the scary stuff.  😍 😍 😍 😍 😍 😍 😍 

Anthropo(s)cene

At and I found this bird's nest by the bike shed on our walk-and-talk on Monday. It seems quite late anthropocene in style, with bubble wrap woven into its construction! 

Actually, we've had a bit too much nature in the house. Last night we found a bat in our bedroom and then later--(another? the same?) one in the library. We couldn't find them this morning, though. I even doused rooms in mint essential oils and played high-frequency recordings, to no avail. Then as I woke from a nap this evening, I noticed a bat roosting about five feet away from me between two beams. We opened the front door and encouraged it to leave, and it did after endlessly stupid loops all around the living room and kitchen.

Pizzzzzzzzaaaaaaaa

We were all looking forward to Big A's pizza at dinner--handmade, made-from scratch crust, homemade sauce, personalized toppings, and all. But while the kids were showing me a video essay on D.B.Cooper (wild, that!), Big A popped in and sheepishly asked if I could help him with something.

"How do you turn on the oven?" Kind of the cliche-est of man questions, but not really as our oven has a multi-step process involving dials and several buttons--a process I'm liable to forget myself without regular practice. So I started to breezily and oh-so-cockily show him--but umm... nothing. The panel wouldn't respond at all; the ovens just wouldn't turn on. So much for my lady-expertise.

So here we are, all lined up at the counter,  getting ready for Big A's newly-invented, cast-iron griddle fired, stovetop pizza. 

And it was delicious. 

One-Way: 8/∞

It seems days move only one-way

away/anyway 

My shadow is mingled with flowers

ohhh whore/for hours

It will be difficult to go home after

now/noon/no

I have caught madness and sunshine 

in the air/in my hair

And all my machines are dying--even paper 

even pen/pain

Small feelings

Small feelings

The Other Side

These signs mandating face coverings on MSU's campus (indoors and outdoors!) have just popped up: I'm so happy to see them; I'd be so much happier if all the panting runners and cyclists would wear masks already. 

In other news, while waiting for my 11:00 am meeting to start, I snatched about 40+ minutes to do some work on a writing project and that felt really, really, really good. 

I didn't get a lot done, and I definitely didn't get great work done, but I got started! I'm glad I didn't let the lack of scheduled time or the fact that that the clock wasn't precisely aligned at the top of the hour throw me off (this is a ridiculous but real procrastinating trigger for me and has been since grade school days). A good lesson to remember for tomorrow if our departmental meeting goes on for longer than planned and I have some magic minutes before my noon meeting. 

And I'm getting in some sustaining one-on-one time with the human kids--the alternating walk-talks have hit a rhythm and I watched a couple of good movies--Misery with At the Stephen King fan and Never Let me Go with Nu who at 12 read the Ishiguro novel last month. (Yes, bragging; sorry! Byeee.)

Building

At what point does a row of bad days become a bad week? 

It feels like I'm busy all the time yet progress I can measure seems infinitesimal and ephemeral. 

I need the heuristic spirit of those who artfully build/balance these cairns in the Red Cedar. 

My focus and karma for now must be action not reason; the work itself, not the outcome.

Forever?

It's August and we're still having multiple daily work meetings spaced out all day. The rest of the day is building each class and syllabus manually on our new platform, Canvas. While all this counts as doing the necessary--perhaps even as accomplishing something new--I didn't get a chance to settle in to 'deep work' or dream up projects this summer.

There are days of dread about what might be in store and today was one of them. Would I worry less if there was an end in sight?

Synchrony, serendipity, sweetness

 

A long meander through MSU arboretum early this morning with L, T, and R while the rest of the fam slept in. Moving up and down the line I overheard bits of conversations as one does. But today, two things. 

First, L said she loved lantana. And so, later today, I was able to make her a teensy posy with some of my last blooms for the season. 

Then, R mentioned she'd been spending a lot of time on the Russ and Daughters website looking at all the things she wanted to order and that she was tempted to order the smoked sablefish, but it cost 55$$$$. Now, earlier this week, when picking food for my Imperfect delivery, I thought I had ordered some black cod, because that Nobu dish is a highlight of our lives. As it turns out, what I had actually ordered and had delivered yesterday, was smoked black cod or (the package informed me) sablefish. Exactly What R wanted! So the package made its way to R, much to her delight.

We ended the day with the brownies from bestie LB--some with walnuts for me and Big A and some nut-free for Nu and At. Some small sweetnesses from today.

A Different Season

Perhaps I asked the wrong question 

of this place

at such a time

Imagining what we've become

at that time

in this place

Discovering us borderless 

I open to shelter

--maybe laughter?

Like a wave in our spacious sky 

--I who cannot swim

see my shadow float

Life as busy-work

Our governor has closed indoor bars and has limited indoor gatherings to <10 ahead of campuses reopening, and is rightfully getting some love on the capitol lawns as EG's photo shows. Lots or ire too, I expect.

We figured out some glitches with Nu's Khan Academy sign-ins and established some house rules for timely work. Then Nu and I worked like friendly but respectful office buddies for a large part of the morning. Big A set the kids to work on clearing the front drive and they may or may not have had a leafblower battle, but they did a great job. Our long driveway was cleared by the time Big A and I set out on our riverwalk (we did a 'full Sparty' today--all the way to the football stadium).

I've needed to read something light after heart heavy reads earlier this week, and picked up and abandoned a couple of books before I decided on Kevin Wilson's Perfect Little World.  Among those abandoned--The Dinner List. I was slightly irritated by the 'Indian' name "Sumir," which while plausible, is so close to names like "Samir" or "Sumit" that it seemed like a typo. Then I was full-on irritated by another ostensibly Indian, but nonsensical name "Swani." OK, c'mon; how difficult would it have been to appeal to your social media hivemind or do a google search to find actual names?! Another book I abandoned was something donated to our Little Free Library--I had been forbidden to read it when I was a teen, so I went into it with high hopes, but it was very disappointing, and even determined skimming didn't turn up anything smutty. 

And finally after dinner, At took us through  Starship Troopers in an abbreviated (liberal fast-forwarding) and annotated ride (connecting to Umberto Eco's work) and then we retreated to our books, screens, and alone time. As Nu said somewhat wistfully earlier this week when they came to say goodnight, "And another day is done."