quiet

The kind of quiet time I usually don't expect on a Monday... I used it for a midday hike with L and reading what she's reading (Olive Again).

easy like Sunday afternoon

For decades, the best summer afternoons have always been about lemonade, chatter, cards, snacks, sunshine, novels... Now I have puppies underfoot to make it even better. (And it's not even officially summer yet!)

(I needed this interlude today--I made an impulsive grocery trip to get some ingredients for Big A's Boss Day dinner and OMG all the unmasked people.)

Over on Scroll, a shortlist of seven philosophers who can help us build back a better post-pandemic world.

passing/passage

The blue blob is me with Scout's face wedged into my hip and what seems to be his preternaturally elongated body is actually part Huck. 

At went to Alma to visit friends (he's post vaccination and also an adult ¯\_(ツ)_/¯); Big A went to work; Nu had been irritable and took themselves off to bed early.

So this was me for the rest of the evening as I started and finished a novel--Brit Bennett's The Vanishing Half--in one long gulp. I read the parts about passing breathlessly--racial passing + gender/trans passing. And it began to feel like being an immigrant is also somewhat like passing--in the sense that you leave an old self behind, propelled as much by necessity and accident as by some form of selfishness/self-centeredness. 

conflict

Sometimes it's called a "conflict," but it may look like people asking for their right to live.

[Pic from At's protest outside Rep. Elissa Slotkin's office this week.]

context

breath is a hymn 
accomplishing joy
surfacing tree brown
I come back to my body
through the sacred,
absurd landscape
of patience

[Pic: Scout and Huck hanging out with me in puppy pose.]

focus

Lots of stuff going on--including working in my office, office visits at various doctors etc., but a walk with JG and a porch hang with KB and... hours of jabber and banter are the points I want to remember from today. 

(Spot the bunny in the picture!) 

shit shit shit

The first signal is my head turned 

sideways, listening for him

my dad too, listens to me,

he warns me of shit.

This was literal: he identified each 

congealed hazard on the trail.

"Look out for the dog shit,"

he said. "OK--horse shit."

Or sometimes even: "I don't know, 

kanna--some kind of shit here."

Huge oceans connect us now;

my finger tenses on redial.

------------

Red Cedar River, this morning with L.

plot twist

The day started beautifully with a tour of the MSU Horticultural Gardens (whence these decadent peonies) with L. 

It got better when Nu got their first shot of the Pfizer vaccine at a drive-through clinic excellently organized by MI state and operated by some lovely people from the National Guard. 

It got even better when the U of M adolescent gender services clinic called to set up an appointment for us next Friday.

And then like an absolute champion, I got all the student letters of recommendation I was working on--off to students/universities/programs.

It was when I was sending out those letters that I realized I had somehow missed the faculty meeting that was noted in my calendar and my online scheduler.

Whoops. 

dissonance

On the one hand: Getting to hang out with dear (vaccinated) friends at a brewpub (first time in 14 months); planning to get Nu to a walk-in vaccination clinic this weekend now that vaccinations have been approved for the 12 and above set.

On the other hand: Whatsapp messages on cousins' chat sharing fundraisers for treatment for people they personally know; Facebook posts about relatives in India sick and dying.

long day's journey...

L and I were absolutely transfixed by how different Baker Woods looks in just a week. The last time we were there, we saw a mess of ramps and lots of wildflowers, but the trees hadn't greened yet. I was excited for L to see it because I'd hiked at Baker with BS this weekend and was storing this up as a surprise to savor all over again with L. 

Headed up to Alma afterwards for meetings and things with At. He DJ-ed a podcast he wanted me to listen to about the Cuban revolution and and hearing about Meyer Lansky aligned nicely with segments of The Godfather Part II, which I'm watching bit by bit with Big A. 

Back home, we made dinner (last week's leftover rice, +beans, +a bag of 'power blend' veggies in a stirfry, a big green salad, and a mango-blueberry-orange fruit salad), set the table, ate, talked over music, and cleared up in just under 90 minutes--At called it "efficient." Nu headed to bed early after a few rounds of cards and the puppies and I napped together for a bit until it was time to send Big A off to work.

lift your lantern up

Vacuuming in At's room, I chuckled because he'd helpfully put his bungee-chairs and side-tables on top of his bed so I could clean easily without having to move stuff around. As I told him, my mom used to do the same with her cleaners so they'd clean more thoroughly. 

Anyway--his camping lantern had fallen to the floor, so I asked if he could "lift your [his] lantern up" and a look of total befuddlement came over his face. Turns out, he thought it was an axiom he hadn't heard before in the vein of that hymn "This Little Light of Mine"--I'm going to let it shine, etc. 😂😂

And then this little love of mine took care of some yard work unprompted. 🥰🥰

mmmmm morels

Big A mowed too aggressively by the morel patch last year so I was worried they wouldn't come back, but here are a few morels I found (in a spot he'd missed blitzing behind the elm). 

At and I ate a couple, and the rest have gone to good homes, where the whole family appreciates morels (Nu and Big A won't eat 'em over here). 

Nothing quite like the first year we were here, or even the rainy spring of 2019... Still so much better than last year's poor showing, when I appear to have found just two. 

Everything was worse last year. 

"maybe-you're-just-like-my-mother" day

The human kids helped me clean and restock our Little Free Library and then all the kids worked in the garden--digging, clearing, weeding, pruning, and planting in the veggie plots. There are piles of autumn leaves everywhere, but the paths are now cleared and we'll need not fear running out of spearmint and/or peppermint (which came back strong over the winter) any time soon. Ha.

I had a walk with EM planned and the kids had planned to take me out for a walk later, but it looked like a downpour, so we stayed in, and they made me a big pot of tea, which we drank in the tea garden while we did a puzzle and then played cards.

Dinner was personalized mezze platters everyone helped to make. 

It was such a lovely day.

This is only a test

I got home from the weekly grocery shop, predictably getting a bit carried away in the greenhouse buying (mostly inexpensive) begonias, geraniums, vinca vines, and spikes. In this test of my devising, unpacking the car--in the absence of a potting table or potting shed--I (hilariously) stuck the tiny pots into the frames and gutters of the Big A's precious ladders. Now to wait for his reaction. Would he: 

A. clap his hands in delight and pronounce it charming (no chance of this)

B. shake his head with a rueful smile and ask me to move them soon (probably)

C-F. any response less loving/indulgent than B. 

(Dear Diary, he got a B.)

"even doves have pride"

First business appointment today was Zoom court, where JL's PPO (personal protection order) against their stalker ex was upheld and extended. Abusers are really their own worst enemies--the judge was visibly deprecating of his disrespect and narcissism (I was too). 

Some committee work + paperwork + unfinished business... Then a lovely, supportive, mentoring all-women meeting. We're opening up the previously faculty-only group to staff and admin; I want to get athletics, facilities/janitorial, and our catering staff involved too!

A kind shoutout from Mel at Stirrup Queens, a heads-up that an old poem had been published in The Scriblerus Spring Issue, and a Google scholar alert about an essay that was picked for an anthology and is now in print round off the writing updates for the week. 

____________________________

Pic: Two weeks or so ago, our cherry blossoms at their peak.

day/break/out

Daylight--it wounds the sky, gashes the clouds
--a jail/a madhouse would feel like a vacation
today. J/K; joke! I'm timid, presumptive
 
I send a few glances out--sort of as envoys,
like lighting small candles everywhere 
as though entertaining--protest

I think my mother once had hands like mine,
to measure submission as it crept up on us
--in the flicker of a lazy lizard eye

In my head, I just want to keep assembling 

these lines, ironically, un-wrinkling words

I don't know--back into distraction

____________________________

Meme from Twitter; TBH, the day is as gray as this picture.

promise

this is where i will love you

this is how you're spoken for

i will surround you with care

i will celebrate you with song

you will be stronger for my love

all i say to you will be only kind

you will know you are important 

find comfort when you "just can't"

we'll still need the earth for this body

as we fill the sky with soul and dreams

if they fall into a net, i'll make you a nest 

even should you falter, i'll believe in your best

Mostly a promise to anyone who needs it, even if it's mostly me. 

The nice things I've done for myself recently (pedestrian objects alert) is (a) get toothbrushes with tiny heads--perhaps they don't renovate my mouth, hasten world peace, etc., but they also don't constantly bump up against my gums and teeth; (b) get sporks--so easy to use esp. when multitasking and all the better for cleaning my plate/bowl.

Second-vaccine-shot, college-graduation, and birthday weekend for this guy

 

"alone in a world so cold"

the world changes in the next line 
not in a full way/just kidding
but I summon/succumb

start assuming our story as reality--
no--a fantasy--something festal 
--or elastic as seasons

and still--don't know where I'm going
but I'm going and I'm arriving
where you will embrace me

-----------------------------------

On this windy, spring day: At graduated today with honors in Poli Sci and History. Jim Daniels as commencement speaker was a pleasant surprise.

limen

every dead thing is sainted 
even if impermanent 

as sadness, staining breath,
straining glass

while our faces sigh into it--
an empty staircase 
of smoke, of panic, prayer 
rising, now howling

"open the door, open it"
gasping, holding on

to memories, remembering 

doors used to open

Arundhati Roy: "We are witnessing a crime against humanity"