Table, tummies, and hearts full.
Grateful to be ending January on this note.
Table, tummies, and hearts full.
Grateful to be ending January on this note.
Big A is away at work. I miss him and really dislike our new normal. I'm sure I'm going to be writing poems like a teenager soon. Ha.
CF came over for dinner and to keep us company. I pulled out a vegetarian shepherd's pie I'd frozen last month, because CF is a cozy, comfortable friend like that. I made a bean soup too, because it felt like a soup night. And then I saved the brown bananas by making almond flour muffins with blueberries and raspberries. Problem is, I don't like bananas--and now I'm hoping other people will eat them. Puppies really seem to like it! So dinner was fun, and then we watched a show and checked in and gossiped on the side while Nu was occupied.
I was supposed to be at work for an admissions event early this morning, but Bluey the car hadn't charged (and Big A was away, so no backup car), and I had to start the day with a sheepish phone call to the coordinator. Apart from that, today was alright.
Moments like this can make me forget how his hind legs aren't working and even wagging his tail is increasingly difficult for him. I'm proud of how this baby has found ways to move--scooting, sliding, stretching--to overcome his mobility issues. And I miss all the things he used to do--join me when I lit the pooja lamps, greet everyone at the door, etc., etc., etc... this list is really long. But I'm grateful for all he can still do--he has the kindest eyes and best snuggles always.
I'm also grateful that the neuro appointment we made last year, which seemed ages away--is now around the corner of next week.
I think I used to write about those early days long, long ago. In other news, I miss NYC.
In very serious news, which I've shoved to the back of my consciousness in order to function, my sister texted to say my mom has just tested positive for Covid (but not my dad... yet). Dreading the next few days.
And a welcome breakthrough on an essay I'm working on just as I was falling asleep last night. I was too tired to even scratch out a note for myself, but it lingered when I sat down to work the next morning. Like all the best solutions, it was there all along!
In other news, I'd sent out a flawed proposal and instead of being rejected, one of the evaluators messaged me backchannel to revise and resubmit--which I did. It reminded me of this story on bias I heard on the radio detailing how well networked people benefit from excuses and clemencies unavailable to others. I never thought, I guess, that I would be on the receiving end of such benefaction.
And of course, putting it all into perspective--the James Webb telescope has settled into its permanent orbit and I wonder what else we'll learn about ourselves.
But I went outside today. I started some good sabbatical habits--working steadily through the day until it was time to pick up Nu. Got a proposal sent off; whittled the chapter that was at 20K down to 11K. It needs to be at 8K--so I guess I know what I'm doing tomorrow.
I feel normal(ish).
Nu's long, fraught semester is finally over.
We had cuddly, chatty visit from At.
A soul-affirming planning meeting with the Tender Hearts Garden collective.
Started a good book: Lily King's Five Tuesdays in Winter.
Started an interesting show: Decoupled on Netflix.*
And... JG sent pictures from Hawaii where they'll be till April, and I've been encouraged to visit.**
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*Decoupled is clever and the skirmishes between protagonist novelist Arya and real life novelist Chetan Bhagat are uproarious. But the show tries to do that thing where it pretends like the only people who matter in India are upper-middle-class, English speaking folks. In fact, it treats people doing their jobs (security agents, wait staff, domestic workers) as the butt of jokes and that got a bit tiring for me. Also, in this day and age, even real people don't have to live with a name like Arya Iyer--so we certainly don't have to name a fictional character with every upper caste marker there is. Some of it is anti-South bias too? I mean, North Indians seem to think everyone from the south is Madrasi/Iyer.
**I don't think I will go--lately, I've seen too many indigenous Hawaiian activists begging mainlanders not to visit because of Covid. But it's still nice to have pictures.
Another day in bed and too much time to think... and it got me thinking.
How I haven't seen my parents in three years. How my mom is lowkey disappointed in me because one grandkid hasn't made it to grad school yet and another grandkid is transitioning. (She's stopped saying it out loud, and gets full points for being a supportive grandmom and using the right names and pronouns, but she'll still say perhaps I could "talk" to the kids and "help" them. This included a story of an uncle--a child psychiatrist (!!!)--who "talked" to his kid and she's not lesbian anymore? I tried to tell my mom that's not how sexuality works.)
Why the child who's applying to grad school won't take any advice from his parents when we have about three grad degrees each and could be good resources. We have lots of students and mentees whom we're honored to help, but our own child wants none of it. Why the child who's transitioning is still so unhappy and what else could we do.
In family therapy the other day--I shared my worry that when Big A begins commuting to Milwaukee in July, it would disrupt the family and all the little traditions and habits we'd built up over the years because can we still do it if Nu and I are the only humans left at home? And the therapist said that I was probably comparing what's left "with the family I used to have... and the family I wanted to have." 💯
I was able to tell time on the bedroom clock only via context. Is this 9:15/2:45? I'd been in bed all day, and it didn't really matter, but I had to crawl to my phone to figure out the right time.
Pic: KB came down to Lansing and I was SO happy to share my favorite woods with a favorite person.
I've always loved Pongal, amongst many other reasons, for giving me a second chance at beginning afresh. And I definitely need it this year.
My mom calls the sun "pratyakshadeva"--the god who makes himself visible to us every day (not necessarily in Michigan, but you know...) and I love that.
I have to say, Hinduism comes back to me in unpredictable ways... Klara's literal sun worship in Ishiguro's Klara and the Sun didn't strike me as odd at all because I've been there. Ha.
While everyone was tested, masked, etc., this was still pretty risky. I'm glad I went because it was a very special moment for some very special people.
I am, however, feeling a bit nervous about consequences. I had a headache later in the evening (probably because of WINE!!) and a tummyache too (cheesy food!) and I kept asking Big A if he thought I might have Covid. Let's see.
We'd read The Lincoln Highway (which I didn't love) and as is my wont, I made a dish featured in the book--this time it was "Sally's Casserole," which was actually this although I, naturally, subbed Impossible meat for the beef. I had however, mentioned to L that I was thinking of making fettucine mio amore, another dish mentioned in the book, and L came up with the author's recipe! Then I spent way too much time going down the rabbit hole of other recipes based on mentions in books.
My most favorite part was the tour of JS's treasures from walks and hikes--pods and nests and dried flora (pic). I love how JS (a poet) finds treasure everywhere. Such a lovely evening and a memory to treasure in the months to come.
We made a decision yesterday about Big A's university offers after our tromp through the woods. We mulled over the same series of circumstances and determinants and possibilities we have for weeks now and decided to go for the offer closest geographically and to his dream position.
It means he'll spend 50% of his time in Milwaukee with the coming academic year.
Yesterday, L kept texting little things to show she was thinking of me, I had a good cry with my mom the day before that, and today--I told people at work so we could start brainstorming strategies to make single parenting possible in the Fall when I go back to teaching.
Looking at yesterday's first real day of time tracking really helped me see (a) I ought to prioritize work (b) separate emails from deep work (c) make time for work (d) I haven't yet a clue where this time will come from.
There are a lot of hours spent hanging out with the fam and hiking and soaking in the tub, but Non, je ne regrette rien.
My lovely colleague-mentor L had suggested that I disengage and use the sabbatical to good use--and I pared down campus engagement. But just today I got asked to join a search committee and a journal review board--and I said yes. It can't be helpful to anyone if I keep taking on every opportunity that flits across my timeline.
Sunrise over Lake Michigan on the Northside of Milwaukee (Atwater Park, maybe?). This was just lovely although the rest of the day was a drag.
If we could afford to live overlooking the lake, I might move. But we can't, and I won't.
We're headed to Milwaukee to check out one of the places that offered Big A a research gig... and I already feel like nothing good can come of this trip.
1) This past week, I've had some tough conversations with Big A (diminishing family time); Nu (screen time and schoolwork); At (patchy/magical Covid protocol) so I'm glad Scout thinks I'm just the greatest.
2) B.E.S. asked if I would officiate at their wedding reception... I love B.E.S. (student>colleague>friend) and am beyond honored... but also have also have no idea how to go about it.
3) Scheduled a professional WGS talk in March--I'm more confident of doing alright with this.
4) Lots of phone calls this weekend--in the absence of real meetups, these are the talks I love best!
I do not like this song, but since titling this post, it's my personal ear worm.
My parents were such huge fans of Sir Sidney Poitier, they had us kids watch all their favorites on VHS.
I must have thought of them as documentary, so imagine my horror and surprise when I got to the USA and realized that racism hadn't been neatly resolved decades ago.
But in these past decades, I've come to appreciate what an amazing trailblazer he was even "beyond stage and screen" as Bernice King notes.
Rest in Power, Sir.
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Vaguely related: I gave At this this Desmond Tutu apron for Christmas and the Rev. died the very next week; At gave me this edition of In the Heat of the Night and now Sir Sidney is no more. How jinx-y are we?
Yup, the anniversary of the most insane and scary thing I've witnessed in real time is tomorrow.
Anyway, Jamie Raskin's book about this week last year is in my checkout cart--but I'm not sure if I'm ready to read it.
Just his brave interview on Fresh Air nearly crumbled me.
I am still not over Tommy Raskin (I may never be).
Scout and Huck agree with me.
Nu had some friends over to celebrate NYE at home; At went out with friends; Big A and I noshed while the puppies went between pets in the rumpus room (Nu and friends) to naps with Mama and Dada. Also: We pro-conned and discussed a job offer which would take take Big A to another state.
We were supposed to do a whole family dinner tonight, but At's car ran into a curb and there's a weather advisory, so it'll be tomorrow (hopefully). I'm grateful everyone is okay-ish even while I will myself not to be superstitious about new year's day.
Poems from January 1 over the years:
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Pic: The soapstone sculpture LB and TB gave us for Christmas. It looks like a very loving couple, and I think that was their point. (It also makes me blush a little with its intense intimacy.)
I did not expect to be overcome by such crushing sadness today. I was happy to be headed home, but with the travel term and the wedding (two...