rising up to meet us

there is nothing but dusk and the dust to make it 

I marvel at the unreality of wonder in our world

flowing from one dim meaning to the next one 

you are afraid I will never make it safely home

scattered in the grass are the scars of reckoning 

how we are leaving this country of hesitation

to fly to a country of hope, our hands like wings

feathery and wide with prayer, holding nothing

only blossoming like blessings along the main 

all of us dreaming just as hard as we can dream 

__________________

Pic: I witnessed a sweet exchange on the bike path earlier this week.

doubt enters the room as if it were light

A lot of work-related travel in the upcoming weeks and my mind is on home.

I called BigA in a panic from the airport bus, because I wasn't sure if I'd shut the back door and was worried Max and Huckie would be in danger, if I'd turned off the stove... and a few minutes later if I'd shut the front door. Thankfully, it was a Thursday, so he was working at the addiction clinic and could check on everything on his lunch break. (Everything was, in fact, fine.)

Last night, I woke from a dream where my mom had changed/rearranged the coffee table and was finding my entreaties amusing... (I get my homing vibes from her, so she wouldn't have, but dreams are an exercise in the unexpected.)

Lots of good panels, a blogger meet, worked the caucus table, attended a college committee meeting remotely, and worked on the paper I'm presenting. NWSA seems quieter, but maybe that's just because many of my regulars aren't here this year. OR it could be because so many programs were cut last year that there actually are fewer folks around. Or some combination of the two.

____________________
Pic: The wobbly pic BigA sent me to reassure me that Maxie was safe.

We're not in Michigan Anymore

I headed out to the National Women's Studies Association (NWSA) conference today. It's always right after the election, and I remember being in the airport in 2016, wondering how many of the people around me disliked me on principle, and then when I landed in Montreal where the conference was that year, the Canadian immigration officer joked about granting me refuge. There was so much impromptu organizing at the conference that year!

This year when I said I was headed to Atlanta for a conference, my first-year writing kids gave me a list of people to meet that included Playboi Carti and Lil Baby 😂 and I had to tell them I wasn't going to be hanging out at the clubs. (I wouldn't at all mind running into Andre 3000 or Childish Gambino though!)

I was laughing about this in my head, but then I remembered that I met Ronnie Devoe (of New Edition, Bel Biv Devoe) when I was at the NWSA in 2023!

Pic: The traffic in ATL is wild. My driver Y (rightly) complained all the way.

happy (and snarky)

A Latina woman was elected governor of Texas, a Black woman was elected governor of Georgia, A Native American woman was elected governor of New Mexico.

So many firsts!  First openly gay man (Chris Pappas)! First Muslim (Abdul)! First out Black trans woman in a state legislature (Jaelynn Scott)! It's wild that we still have "firsts." In 2026.   

Time to acknowledge the rush of hope and possibility Zohran Mamdani brought to politics and grassroots organizing.Time to thank Zelensky for taking out the Russian bot farms sowing discord leading up to the elections.

And it's time to really get to work. I hope the dems won't squander the moment.  I hope they undo the harm, prosecute the crimes against humanity and corruption, and really change people's lives. Please let's have no more business as usual, empty words, and being spectators to our own government. 

Why are Schumer and Jeffries taking victory laps for a grassroots movement they had nothing to do with and tried to deter every chance they got? They're so enmeshed with everything that's wrong here. (For starters, Schumer's kid is a consultant for OpenAI and Jeffries takes secret meetings with Kushner.) Enough. The best they can do is please step aside and pass the baton. Van Hollen? Ro Khanna? Elizabeth Warren?

Pic: My Voting sticker from yesterday. Sassy is how is feel. There was supposed to be a neighborhood bonfire tonight to celebrate (WILL LAWRENCE, OUR DSA CANDIDATE, WON!), but we got rained out... Boo.

so woke

I was cautiously optimistic and am now (way past midnight) heartened by the American decency that is showing up at the polls.

All the reports of people leaving their "I voted" stickers at the Alex Pretti, Renee Good, and other ICE victims' memorials is making me tear up... I hope we can move back to kindness--I'm so tired from the constant cruelty, and depravity, and chaos. 

And so many wins to celebrate--Deb Haaland, Amy Acton, Annie Andrews, Troy Jackson, Keisha Lance Bottoms, Sherrod Brown, James Talarico, Gina Hinojosa, Chris Pappas... Still waiting to hear decisively about Abdul in our state. Angie Nixon called herself a socialist and nearly won in Florida. I'm counting that as a win. She could have really won too, if only the Dem establishment had extended any support. I really do hope Dem leadership is listening to what the people want and will stop playing their tired old duopoly games.

Pic: As the red and black stripes in the background might indicate, this is Nu's voting sticker. BigA and I voted after I got home from work this evening and went to stock up on emotional support snacks afterwards. Nu is off at the Will Lawrence watch party (that's not looking good, but we could still pull it off!).

a lack of an ending

When Nance recommended May We Feed the King, of course I got it right away, and then of course, I spent a lot of the book wondering if this is why Nance had recommended it to me. There's a part where the narrator talks about how people lose patience for grief after a year, and I was fairly certain that was one of the reasons.

But also it is so rich. The sumptuousness of the language is so perfect for the time period and the archival recreation it describes. 

There is a lack of ending in this poetic novel that I feel is me right now... especially today, which seems to be all about waiting for the future.

_______

Pic: A hazy, golden path ahead...
 

Oh, say...

...do you see the baby buck waiting for us by the garden shed at the end of the driveway? Max and Huck sure didn't. It surprises me how oblivious these guys seem to be to the world around them. They're mostly interested in family, other humans, *sometimes* other dogs, and like to chase squirrels and birds for fun. (And they're hilariously surprised when they find them stationary!)

In other silly baby news, I wished everyone a Happy November because that's something my mom used to do every month, and now it's up to me to carry that on.

May it be a happy November! (I won't be having a watch party, because when we moved into this house in 2016, one of our first parties was on election night, and... uh-oh, I might be scarred.)

Pic: Us returning home from an evening walk.

halloween (hallucination)

Trying to say "yes" to more things, right now, so I went to the damn Halloween party.

But I still hate on AI. My costume is an "AI Hallucination." I'm meant to be a Snow Queen (which is why I'm wearing my actual wedding tiara), but AI misunderstood it as "Snow Cone" hence the rest of my weird costume.

Pic: With L.
 

sanctuary

skies always open

they haven't quit in this warm October

their voice in an inaudible present 

clouds are normal

it is wisdom that whimpers, collapses

naming days, trauma, traditions

trees are informal

stopping by, breeze-ruffled, reminding 

me of the hard ringing in my heart 

stars are waiting

like bits of every song you ever knew

not young, not old... eternal 

_____________

Pic: Walking home by myself; feeling sheltered.

all there is

gone as sudden as sound

lost

thoughts and things weep

secret

the debris of years reach  

stretch

out the empty logic of loss 

ruin

time's understudy at the door

______

Pic: A balancing act on the Red Cedar River.

my assumptive world order

I think this photo is from when At committed to Alma, and everyone dressed up in college gear to celebrate. I miss when my parents used to live with us for half the year (I miss when my mom was alive).
 

FB is going to be killing me softly for evermore with memories, I guess.

It's ok; I can take it. I'm glad there were happy times. I'm smiling back at these loved faces.

I can't imagine a world without these loves in whatever physical or spiritual form they are and how lucky am I to always have some part of them. 

Pic: FB sent me this memory from "10 Years ago" as it says at the top of the photo.

externalizations

I shouldn't take photos from the car, but only the brave deserve beauty?

Also, between Amma and my small accident last month, I think I've got a case of survivor defensive externalizing in a way that comes off as arrogance and carelessness.

And also apropos of nothing, on our walk today, JG was beginning to worry all over again that I haven't seen my doc or had any cancer screenings in ages... and then looked at me and called it: "You are never going to get cancer treatment, are you?" Who knows how I will react if confronted with that choice... But as of now, that is the plan. Yes.

Pic: Sunset on The Maple River.

twin (de)lights

Driving Nu back to the dorms this morning, and both of us gasped at the size of the full moon in the morning sky. Nu is very much a "I’m going to take a picture with my eyes and keep it in my memory” person, so this photo is evidence of Nu being so kind to my more pedestrian sensibilities.

Also kind--Nu coming in this weekend to spend time with Max and Huck so Big A and I could go to his college reunion.

I love long car rides and freewheeling chats with this baby. By the time we got to the college, there was a brilliant orange sun behind us, but I knew better than to ask for a photo of that too. I know the limits. Ha.

Pic: That streetlight seems to be giving the moon some competition here, but that wasn't the case in real life.

after fall

It's rich irony then that I feel like a ghost

alive, haunting every hang of time 

asking, if is this all there is

the bruise of the moment

the body sinking down

anchoring absolutely

nothing but me

this is a story I actually don't want to tell 

I'd rather retract into porous sleep 

or silence--providently waiting 

just past the gate the miracle

or watching and loving 

all I ever had to do

was show up

_________________________

Pic: I could barely believe that the orange balls in the dirt were pumpkins... Where are the vines? Why am I such a city bumpkin?