It was a beast of a day. The college board has decided that with declining numbers they'll need to cut 33 full-time positions to stay fiscally viable. The sense of panic and grief was constant at today's faculty meeting and at most of the meetings leading into it. Tears, gallows humor, anger... I saw it all.
On top of the lowgrade panic of the election, this job uncertainty feels almost unbearable. The plan is to announce the cuts by December 15th, which is apparently the deadline the AAUP suggests so people can begin to look for jobs for the next academic year. (But also, with the state of higher ed, what jobs?)
The two bright spots at work were completing some more paperwork for the prison class (I always procrastinate on paperwork) and a mood-uplifting meeting with my student, faculty, and staff sisters on the Women's Board.
At home, it was Nu's actual birthday, and they seem kind of lit up from within. Heart eyes.
Pic: The evening sky on my way home from work. The wind turbines and the cornfields make this so innately mid-Michgan. (I cropped out most of the car--I know, I know, I shouldn't be taking pictures--it was just so pretty though.)
Nu turns 17 tomorrow and they have plans with friends, so we had our family celebration today with pizza, cake, and presents. Nu rarely wants things, so we collaborated on a list of 70 songs about 17-year-olds that they loved. Steph, did something like this for North, I think? We weeded out the more letchy ones (there are so many songs about adult men checking out 17-year-old girls!) and tried to find songs that described being 17. The top ones: "Seventeen without a purpose or direction, we don't owe anyone a fucking explanation" (The Rock Show, Blink-182); "You won't be seventeen forever and we can get away with this tonight" (Seventeen Forever, Metro Station); "Pack me up and put me in a time machine, so I can remember when we were seventeen" (Seventeen, Four Year Strong). There are so many songs about being 17, and Nu thinks it has something to do with the number of syllables in "seventeen," rather than the age itself. Also: The grandparents sent gift cards and cash, this Pack Rat puppet who carries a knapsack might be their new purse, they have a new speaker for their room, and a snack box from Japan.
Big A is working tonight, so he headed to bed after dinner while the kids and I headed out to see The Substance. It was a bit heavy-handed and the body horror was extreme enough to make me want to retch--but the kids thought it was all hilarious. What on earth have I wrought?!
After we dropped At off, Nu started to play Imogen Heap on the car stereo. I don't even know how Nu found this music that's now nearly 20 years old... I internally debated whether I should tell them that I had always thought of "Goodnight and Go" as my song for A (not the stalker-y bits, but the "must you make me laugh so much" section and also the oops missed the train home part). I ended up telling them, and then they earnestly asked me if I would be okay "sharing" the song with them. I guess the kids are alright after all.
(Whom am I kidding? I love my little humans to bits... I can't believe this may be Nu's last birthday at home.)
Pic: Nu's delicious (pumpkin cheese)cake looks like it has a hundred candles because there are candles spelling out "Happy Birthday" in addition to their 17 candles.
Friends and family in the path of Hurricane Milton are beginning to "mark" themselves safe; I hope that continues. For right now, it feels lovely to be back home where everything is normal and human-sized (as opposed to thousands of feet tall or deep à la Arches and Canyonlands).
And on my first full day back, these four beautiful encounters felt like blessings.
1) When I went to pick up the holy basil (Tulsi) plant from the people selling it, they turned out to be a South Indian mother-daughter pair who were so, so nice. The daughter was relocating to the U.K. and when I told them that I had done my doctorate in the U.K., she turned out to be an Oxford Alumna too. At that point, they--naturally--invited me to come in and have "coffee and tiffin."
2) Although it was mostly an intro to their online tech and learning platform (Moodle), there was a sense of solidarity at the Zoom meeting for the volunteer Gaza instructors. (The initiative is led by Lille University in France and hosted by AnNajah University in Palestine.) I gulped when the admin said it would be good to record lectures because students may not have internet access or electricity at class meeting times. Most of the other instructors were men, so when I spotted someone who appeared to be a woman, I Facebook-friended them like it was 2006. Then KK and I had a heartfelt exchange about why we were doing this and swore comradeship.
3) Finally, and for no reason I can think of, my masseuse AM decided to gift me today's massage. First I demurred, then I refused outright... but she shut me down by saying she knew I would respect her decision. This feels too, too much--massaging is strenuous work and a whole hour out of her workday is too generous. When I asked her, she merely smiled and said, "What goes around comes around." Which is inscrutable but fair, I guess. But she doesn't know much about me and I really haven't ever done anything special for her. (Although I clearly need to now. Ideas welcome.)
4) Pic: It's late in the year, but I think this is a fritillary? They were just soaking up the sunshine and doing that thing where they open and close their wings--as though in pure pleasure. I kind of felt like that myself at odd moments during the day.
This has already been a longer trip than our usual getaways, and I'm glad to head home, but I'm also sad to say goodbye. I would never choose to live in this rocky, arid place that is astoundingly beautiful and we have no plans to return in the foreseeable future as we have no family here and there are so many more National Parks to explore. So this is a proper goodbye for now.
Things that have been absolute lifesavers on this trip--sunhats, sunscreen, snacks, and a backpack hydropack (like Camelback). I may have to make an exception to my no-buy rule because I saw someone in the airport restroom who had a tote they were carrying like a backpack (it had both tote and backpack handles). And now I really want one! I've been a carry-on-only traveler forever, and I think I'd look more grown up with a tote instead of a backpack!
Also: I was embarrassingly in "little lady" mode on this trip. I'm usually an equal partner, but I was extra dependent on this trip what with my busted-up splinted finger and being unable to deal with lifting my own suitcase, not wanting to drive that beast of an SUV, and my freakout (freakouts? I'll never tell!) about falling. I hope this changes back soon.
Pic: Goodbye Colorado River! #LaterPost 10/10
Canyonlands National Park is 527 square miles so it can take an hour or double that depending on where one wants to enter. We went with the closer entry point, Island in the Sun, which is also where the visitor center is so we could get the kids their socks and our National Parks Passport stamped.
We did three hikes today: Murphy Overlook, Murphy Point, and the hike around the rim from Grand View Point. The heights are dizzying. And it was a nice literal reminder not to gaze too deep into the abyss. As we walked, I clarified my limitations about hiking around heights. If I can trip full length and then pick myself up and carry on, I'm fine with it; I draw the line at hiking on paths where a trip and fall might mean I fall off the cliff. That's reasonable, right? The geological scale of the depths at Canyonlands was somehow particularly terrifying--it was as though one would be falling down aeons and eras.
Pic: We took a few "ussies" with this view, but our heads were getting in the way of all this awesomeness. #LaterPost 10/10
While at Panorama* Point, we decided to return to the park at night to see the night skies without light pollution. I wondered if we should ask a park ranger when the right time to come see the stars would be and Big A said he knew when... "after dark." Har Har.
So we came back after dark... and goodness--I've never seen stars like that. They were so numerous, I couldn't even make out constellations--it was like I was looking at galaxies layered over each other. We just lay on the cold concrete benches in the lookout area looking up at the sky, holding hands, and marveling in sighs and silence and occasional exclamations.
Pic: A and me under the soar of Landscape Arch.
*Let me note that I always have to say this word in my head before I say it out loud. My mom's name is "Manorama" so I'm prone to mispronouncing "Panorama" to rhyme with mom's name. #LaterPost 10/9.
