Lenses

I was a bit skimpily dressed for my meeting--something I realized only as I was actually logging into the meeting and got the camera preview, so I threw on a scarf I fortuitously found stuffed between the couch cushions. There's no AC in the upstairs library, so it was super uncomfortable, but obviously not as uncomfortable as 'office' inappropriateness.

My selfie (after the meeting) came out with old family pictures perched over my shoulder; I appreciated the notion of mom and aunts figuratively having my back as I undertook a South Indian dosa fest for dinner (dosas, sambhar, chutney, chick*n varuval, and the mandatory potato-peas stuffing). Let the record show that today's dosa yearnings were brought on by the "Don't Mind if I Dosa" episode of Padma Lakshmi's delightful series Taste the Nation on Hulu.

Cool Band Album Cover

We packed up a picnic and headed out to Point Betsie Lighthouse for the day. Long drive, gorgeous water.

Scout and Huck got overheated and anxious, so we didn't stay long. But Nu and At--I could (did) look at them all day. They always seem so effortlessly rock chic to me (Nu's light sensitive glasses help).

I've been giving my family's humans bird-motif shirts for years now, so it was only a matter of time before they all arrived downstairs synchronously wearing 'bird shirts.' Big A too (not pictured here as he was looking for a bigger bottle of water for the puppies who'd already slurped up  all we'd brought).

It was a welcome change from our pandemic ordinary, though At and Nu panicked about so many people without masks and wouldn't even go near the water. We saw lots of "Trump 2020" signs and a sign proclaiming "My governor is an idiot." I took some hope from a series of signs that promised "I'm a woman; hear my roar; watch me vote." Yeah.

Teensy Story

Once there was a blanket reading fort in little sibling Nu's room and I said to older sibling At--hey look, how cute, Nu made such a comfy reading fort. 

So At came and looked. And he asked--Am I invited? When Nu moved over, he crawled in and fell asleep until lunchtime with his bony feet sticking out.

LOLOLOL

The End.

On the outskirts of the ordinary

In case you can't tell, Nu got really dressed up... to go on a walk... with me... down our own driveway...

For a few minutes this morning, singing along to Lizzo (Juice) and rigging a bath lighting fixture out of things we already had like X-mas ornament hangers(!), I was blissfully happy--until the enormity of everything else stomped through my chest.

Big A has tummy pains that are terrifying in their intensity--I jumped out of the bath yesterday thinking I'd have to take him to the E.R. right away, but he won't go and he won't do alternative remedies like cumin-turmeric water, and he won't make an appointment with his doc. I don't know what to do, frankly.

At has been in a haze--some of it is allergies and allergy meds, but my sweet child has seemed sad, faraway, and unapproachable all day.

Scout has been acting like a puppy, playing tag extra hard and doing puppy things like he hasn't for years--chewing on pillows and running away with people's slippers.

Hucky? Hucky is always just Hucky. My Hucky bear never cares.

Be Loved

Slept fitfully--fairly standard for me when Big A works nights--and when I checked my phone once--we sometimes have chat fests in the middle of the night--I noted that Twitter had deemed it necessary to notify me at 3 am that Kelly Preston had died of breast cancer. A nice reminder that all our other health dangers persist and it made me very, very conscious of not trying to think of my own delayed checkups and treatments and trying not to prod my problem areas again. Ugh. I guess I was a bit anxious about Big A as well--he's had persistent stomach pains, chest pains, and vision problems since his Covid. 

Anyway, I know who Kelly Preston is, but I've never seen her in a movie, I don't think. But once upon a time, I loved this song--way back in 2002! Because Jane magazine had recommended the Songs about Jane album then. When "She Will be Loved" became popular a few years later and got a video, I loved the surprise of how Kelly Preston's character completely transforms it--she was the perfectly overblown, problematic beauty it needed.

Mostly here

I took an accidental selfie while trying to get a picture of Big A and the puppies the other day, and first, my skin can't really be that clear--what?! But also, my half face is a solid metaphor for my current fragmentation--how it feels a bit empty despite checking off most of my family, household, and self-care goals every day (I continue to lag on the professional front).

Eating my second nectarine in the hammock today was blissful, yes--but also, I could hear myself thinking--hey, look! I'm eating nectarines in a hammock! I'm having such a great time! My somewhat desperate enjoyment of summer, the urgency to do all of the summer things is partly Pure Michigan (ha); but surely, me trying to convince myself things are fine is related to our strange, sad, pandemic times?

1/2 2020 Sonnet

Fond of sun,
my children and I
our thoughts tail us--
or are afterthoughts--
quiet and still as stones
our bones are sinking, singing
their fantasy of thanks to the earth.

Lulled by sun,
my children and I
are adrift on a river of
unhurried afternoons straining
only with birdsong, brilliance, buzz.
We'd say we are quite, quite ruined for the past
why--even the ghosts who call shine bright with future.

Standing

Summer--like snow before--
remakes my world into
an unknowable
loving

In the vines' arch embrace
Leaves bloom, pat me
as I pass in lashes
of love

It seems you dream of
us in the wake of
these whispers--
hearing

Voices that are right, ready:
Justice is late in coming
but protest is already
here.

Purple Prince, Purple Prince

Beyond MSU Horticultural Gardens with L in the early morning and Napolean Dynamite with the kids in the evening, not much to remember. (Big A is working today and I barely saw him all day.)

I used my shadow selfie with "Purple Prince" as an opening gambit to my check-in with KB who's in Minnesota visiting her mom. "The weeks are beginning to beginning to blend together," she wrote back.

Same, gurrl; same.

* Also when I poked around on the internet, it turned out that there are lots of "purple prince" varietals--some of them from centuries ago related to purple being the color of royalty and all that. But there's only one Prince my socialist heart will allow.

Moments

A lunchtime visitor-nuzzler actually makes work easier for me in this picture. I wonder how people with younger/needier kids are faring.

I'm up by 6 most days. I have plenty of time to myself before the kids are supposed to wake up at 8:30. We start the day with a 'cuddle'--sitting in the rumpus room between At and Nu while they continue to wake up/tell me about their dreams from last night/plans for the day/random theories about Avatar or the world while Scout and Huck rotate for pets. This is truly the sweetest time in the day for me.

We start breakfast at 9 or there may be 'extensions' esp. as we're not allowed to get off the couch unless the clock is precisely at 9/9:05/9:10 etc. #RandomKidRules. After breakfast they're working on their projects and are technically on their own for lunch (usually leftovers or something microwaveable). I'll get visitors now and then and requests to play cards/watch a video/share some outrage especially if I work in the study, but the next time I see them could be at 4:30 when they're supposed to report to the kitchen to help me with dinner.

All this to say, the kids are quite low-maintenance for me right now, and I have *exactly* two months (we're supposed to start classes on August 24th) to make this time count for something.

Larger than they appear

The jumpy brown blob
(perpendicular to the top of my arch)

I thought baby frogs were tadpoles--I had no idea they could be juveniles this minuscule, but it turns out the internet knows all about them already. Not L and I this morning--we were surprised and incredulous and spent whole stretches trying to avoid squishing them accidentally.

Speaking of perspective and relative size, Bowdoin College appears to be taking a really interesting approach to Fall 2020 classes, with mostly just first years on campus. We're supposed to be forging ahead at Alma and it may yet all turn out ok--and I'm looking forward to 'normal' term especially as I miss my students and colleagues more than I usually do over the summer. But I was taken aback when KB asked--pointedly cutting through the fingers-crossed aspect of our planning--exactly how many deaths we were willing to suffer before we decide to move online. 

Over at Bon Appetit, Roxanne Gay talks about "cooking the bad news away." Or trying to, anyway. And yes, the privilege of it: "It is an immense privilege, and one I do not take for granted, having access to fresh food, having the money to buy it, having the leisure to track down ingredients, and the time to cook. I am overwhelmed by this privilege as I read the news each day, knowing that more than 22 million people are unemployed; that there are endless lines at food banks across the country; that people are getting sick and they are dying; and cities across the country are hampered by inadequate testing, no contact tracing, and an anemic federal response. It’s all too much, and feeling that way is also a privilege."

It's getting hot in here (SO HOT)

I've just embraced the non-AC-having, south-facing double-storied-windows-and-skylight having solarium as my personal beach: working on my tan, reading trashy novels, drinking cold drinks, and falling asleep in a sweaty heat haze. I guess it's not as hot as last summer because of the tarp over one skylight. which we're not fixing until next spring? I mean--I don't know if we'll get to a beach this summer. So I have some travel books up there too (Greece!). Sometimes I'll text the family chat to say, "at the beach--bring your books and drinks" and might get a kid or two to read with me for a while, but no one loves this sweaty lounge spot more than I do.


And yes--it always makes us chuckle that Nelly's transparent play to get women to take their clothes off has somehow been my (conservative, India-raised) mom's favorite summer song since At was a baby. But yes, it's a good idea to take off some clothes.

And it IS getting so hot--I was going to cook, but it turned out that we got some pizza from Art's instead.

All in a row

Red Cedar River
Are they on a field trip or something?

I'd looked forward to my massage all morning and luxuriated in the afterglow for the rest of the day. I'd been debating getting one on Monday (spas are part of Michigan's slow open this week) and then I pulled something during the yoga flow I've been doing for decades and that clinched it.

Also, it's our wedding anniversary! Perhaps sometime later this year, we'll be able to get away for our yearly 'honeymoon' trip, but not just yet. Big A and I made our wedding anniversary dinner and a big pitcher of margaritas together, Big A ordered us yet another cookbook (Jubilee by Toni Tipton-Martin), then one of our jokey family dinners, followed by our nightly two eps of Avatar. Things are getting tense in the Airbender's universe, and At and Nu gave me a severe warning about reading up on how it ends. They're in bed now; just saying.

"The second best time is now."*

Friends went in on a Kousa Dogwood tree as a group gift for my March Fo(u)rth birthday. The birthday note said that they'd picked the Kousa Dogwood because--like me--it too is hardy, likes company, and is a late-bloomer. 😍

Last week, L took me to Horrocks and Van Atta's to pick out the perfect tree and this week, the kids helped me plant it.  Here it is! 

In the before times, we'd planned to have a second celebration with friends as we planted the tree, but it turned out to be just us.

Look at Nu go! (At, Scout, and Huck--also in this picture in various attitudes of repose--appear to be taking a break 🙄😂.)  

____________

*“The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now.” 

A Long Way from Home/Normal/Ideal

 Big A is in front of the tree;
Nu and At are in the foreground...
for the kids, their first time out of the house since March!

NAACP march to the capitol today. We heard several stirring and compelling speeches; the youth speakers were especially impressive. I wish this time our momentum results in change that will support rather than punish BlPOC.

And I wish I could say it felt good after, but I came home and fell apart: I had a thunderstorm-induced headache, cried because an article had to be changed from MLA to Chicago style, and  couldn't even rouse myself to make dinner... At made grilled cheese for himself and Nu,  Nu fed Scout and Huck, Big A got some delivery, I ate a tub of colorful chips... everyone survived.

I feel like I did a A LOT of railing, crying, and whining (mostly to a very kind and listening Big A), and the kids seemed to play a lot of video games and sang a lot of "It's a long, long way to Ba Sing Se"--ostensibly to cheer me up.

Sketch-y

Commissioned a drawing of Big A and the kids for Father's Day (it's looming!). Love how in this sketch everyone looks racially ambiguous. Right? Or maybe I'm just being fanciful. Not to suggest my multiracial babies automatically embody equality or possibility, but they're lovely beings. Mostly intentionally.

Spent most of yesterday and today in FYS planning workshops--twice the usual work to do since we have to plan for several contingencies and just two months to do it all...

And now I have to go write a kind note to the colleague who said that they had been "g*pped" and hope they take it the right way and didn't already use that kind of language around students.

Toughness

I'm flailing at everything today. Hope others are doing better. 

"Indian Non-Binary Menarche Celebration"

Perhaps there was something portentous about the red lilies Nu planted this week... we celebrated with the red velvet cake they decided was appropriate. Big A made them a card with a "Congratulations" followed by a giant period and we all thought that was hilarious--that morning's laughter was definitely a celebration. But the South Indian in me needed to celebrate Nu more.

I googled "Indian Non-Binary Menarche Celebration" and got nothing. My own menarche was marked by a wedding-level gala replete with catering and professional videographer--but it was too focused on "womanhood and fertility." (It wasn't as lavish as this video I found online, but quite close!)

So we did things our way. We got grandparents and aunts on video calls and read Nu a dedication that focused on their maturity, strength... their ability to reinvent themselves. We kept some elements of the traditional ceremony--anointing with turmeric but connecting its deep roots and healing capabilities with family; playing Carnatic music, but especially Bharati's song about his "kannama" hoping Nu would appreciate the fluidity with which he uses this feminine form of endearment for Lord Krishna. At brewed them a pot of spearmint from his own veggie plot, Grandma S made them a slideshow, the Bangalore grandparents and A Pinni beamed the whole time, N Pinni read them Maya Angelou's "Still I Rise."

Nu got the traditional trays of offerings (fruit, pampering products, books, and a ton of girlie presents), and we added rainbow-themed sandals, bag, visor, and sweetened the deal further with unlimited screen time for the rest of the day.  I think the pictures do a good job of demonstrating my earnestness and Nu's own enjoyment in all the ceremonial love. 😍 😍 

Goodbye (photo-note)

"not gonna cry, not gonna cry, not gonna cry"

"love you, pups! love you"

Out and About

We were just coming back from our afternoon walk when we ran into R, T, and L--who  took this picture from across the street. I demurred when she brandished her phone, but she growled: "Just stand with your husband, Maya!" Big A and I are still chuckling about that hours later. I love L so much.

Big A has two flights booked for NYC tomorrow so he'll be able to get to his first shift on Friday even if one flight gets canceled. We've made so many contingency plans like this trying to manage all kinds of risk. I have to admit it all still feels pretty unreal. He'll leave first thing tomorrow.