a day in Detroit

Big A made plans for us to spend the day in Detroit today. My only big decision was what I should wear to the restaurant that wouldn't be too dressy for the Detroit Pistons game. Clearly, I don't go to games very often. I needn't have worried... most people wore team merch, but there were fancier clothes and the real (literal) rockstars were wearing furs and showy jewelry. 

The Detroit Pistons were playing the Toronto Raptors, and because the wonderful Nicole is from Canada too, this seemed like a sign about the scheme I pitched her about visiting Detroit-MI-the Midwest.

I'm reading Long Bright River for one book club and The Frozen River for another and am preparing to get the two thoroughly confused because both titles have "river" in them. Anyway, I was describing Long Bright River to Big A on the way home, and I used the term "addicted" to describe a character. Ever the humanist (and a volunteer doc in Suboxone clinics), he gently reminded me to use people-first language. I'm learning.

Pic: Waking up from a nap to Big A and Max looming over me. I know I tend to anthropomorphize our canine kids, but Max really does look so much like A here.

not normal

The images of devastation coming from the California fires (in Winter!) have been so hard to process. Homes, memories, histories... wiped out... just like that. I can't imagine. And yet, of course I've imagined it happening to me, to us, over here. It's not difficult. We're all just one disaster away. I'm holding space and grief for all the people, land, animals, plants, water, air, and atoms affected by what was preventable. 

Today has been hard. I turned in final grades for the online Gaza course. Of the eleven students who had registered for "Literature Survey 2," just two graduated. I lost touch with the remaining nine, and hadn't been able to get a response from them in months. I will never know what happened to them. I imagine the best. I imagine the worst.

Of the two who graduated, D, promised to stay in touch "God willing, as long as we are alive, to learn from you." The conditionality was chilling. F, turned in work late once and apologized explaining that there had been internet outages and that their tent had been bulldozed. It made me embarrassed to receive that email. 

None of this needs to be anyone's normal. 

Pic: via Praxis-Archives 
#RestInPowerAaronBushnell

scribbling women, dogs walking, dog-writing, and bitches

When I first watched Bridgerton, I was struck by this remarkable line:

LADY WHISTLEDOWN: "According to the much heralded poet Lord Byron: Of all bitches, dead or alive, a scribbling woman is the most canine."

And I meant to use it when I taught Women's Writing again (which is now). It is such a mash-up of Byron's famous misogyny, Hawthorne's hatred of "scribbling women" and Samuel Johnson's screed about women's composition--that it's like a "dog’s walking on his hind legs. It is not done well; but you are surprised to find it done at all.” 

Also, while I was looking for the precise quote, I went down some interesting theory rabbit holes. While I was aware of Animal Studies, I wasn't aware that there was a specialized field of "dog-writing" that studies the intense relationships of women writers with their dogs (Elizabeth Barrett-Browning, Virginia Woolf, and so on). (While I'm no Woolf or Barrett-Browning--in our family, Scout is known as my dissertation wolf and Max is my book puppy. I don't think I could have gone on without their steadfast attention, affection, and presence.) The word "bitch" crops up with increasing frequency in the titles of these works about dog-writing: "Bitch, Bitch, Bitch: Personal Criticism, Feminist Theory, and Dog-writing" or  Writing with the Bitches, etc. 

It feels like I've come full circle with the Bridgerton quote.

Pic: Snow falling in the "portal," which what L and I call this corridor of trees from her house to the street.

heart with the old

I just want to say yes            somewhere, I want 

since we must begin             to watch this again:                            

seeing my problem              through lit windows

and your proof                     where we're made 

                                                                                  without our own consent

                                                                                  like the worst bargain   

__________________________________________________________

Note: I liked writing and reading these couplets in columns, rows, and just mixing it up even diagonally. Somehow it seems to work as long as it ends up where we're born without our consent!

Pics: Last year this calendar lived on my desk at work and brought me joy all year long. Each jar-shaped month was topped by a cheery sprig of flowers and as I shuffled the cards in the bamboo holder from month to month, the composition of the bouquet changed over the year. I was sad about having to throw it out. But I didn't have to throw it out. I cut off the calendar part of the cards and now it lives on as an arrangement of flowers. Perhaps I could add a small picture of Scout to it.

ready, steady, go...

And just like that the holiday break is over. 

I finally got the tree back to the basement yesterday--I coordinate 90%...maybe even 95% of the Christmas around here (almost everything except my own presents) so I was increasingly agitated I had to wait on this--but it is a two-person job. 

I spent most of today making sure everything would be ready for classes tomorrow. And now my classes have been published, syllabi have been uploaded to the Canvas sites, activities and diagnostics for tomorrow are ready to go, and I've just emailed everyone to welcome them to class. I've never been on a rollercoaster (too much of a scaredy-cat), but I imagine it feels like the mix of excitement, anticipation, and anxiety I'm feeling right now. I kind of love it.

Pic: Max and Huck were bored we stayed indoors most of the day. But also, I've always said Huck is half-puppy, half-kitty, and the way she drapes herself across the back of the sofa in the rumpus room proves my point.

Bending Meaning: Haiku, P.F.Chang, and "Peelings"

I'll never get used to hearing Big A talking on the phone to his colleagues and casually asking them to send him a haiku. Haiku is merely the hospital's internal secure messaging system, but it nevertheless sounds so charming. Although at other times I'm a bit stern and feel like if they're going to appropriate poetic terminology, they better be structuring their medical notes 5/7/5, you know?

*

Last year, Big A had a recurrent dream where Scout was accompanying him to a bunch of classes at Kalamazoo, his old undergraduate campus. In one dream, it was a poetry class where the instructor had displayed some of their published works on the desk at the front of the class. A can't remember the titles, but the poet's name was P.F. Chang--like the Asian restaurant chain. I wonder if Big A was thinking of Victoria Chang but was also a bit hungry?

*

I've been hearing this catchy Telugu film song on a number of reels and wanted to download it for my playlist. The song is about how the heroine is plagued by carnal feelings for the hero--"vochundai feelings-su" (I get these feelings). So I searched "Feelings" on I-Tunes, and nope, nothing. Turns out it's spelled "Peelings"--all the better to express the way it might be pronounced with emphasis in Telugu, I guess? Not really a word with a sultry vibe for me, however--it makes me think of dinner prep... or a skin condition.

Pic: The Red Cedar right behind L's house. From another walk this week. 

in a time before this one

I had just enough left over 

for flowers

~distant and beautiful as frescoes~

or some oranges 

~contained and remote as moons~

I could not choose between

          them then 

I had no one to ask 

          and also

no one to answer to

so bright and sonorous

was my ~solitude~

so replaceable and bold

my ~independence~

_____________

Pic: I thought it was cool how the Red Cedar river had flooded and frozen into a pane over autumn leaves here. (Seen on a  walk with L through the woods yesterday.)

bookends

I woke up to see that a writer friend had tagged me in her exhortation to read more books in 2025 because she'd used a picture of our Little Free Library. And of course the week has been full of various enjoyable year-end roundups of reading lists. Then Lisa wondered about my top books of 2024... The thing is, I don't have a digital record of my reading. Reading is what I've always loved doing but also kind of my work work. So it never made sense (for me) to quantify my reading by hours/pages/titles. When I read for pleasure, like other things I do for pleasure, I tend to do it rather whimsically and for as long--or as little--as I want to. It's not very efficient. But that feels perfect to me.

Lisa's question made me curious, though. So I went to check on my scribbly physical planner, where I usually note what I'm reading "for fun" to compile this top-12. (I think these titles are a mix of 2023 and 2024 and are in no particular order.)

Ta-Nehisi Coates, The Message; Catherine Newman, Sandwich; Paul Murray, The Bee Sting; Percival Everett, James; Kaveh Akbar, Martyr!; Sally Rooney, Intermezzo; Fady Joudah, […]; Tony Tulathimutte, Rejection; Emma Cline, The Guest; Yiyun Li, Wednesday’s Child: Stories; Tania James, Loot; Elliot Page, Pageboy: A Memoir; Teju Cole, Tremor. (Fun fact: Teju Cole used to comment on this blog a very long time ago.)

Pic: OM's Facebook Reel of our Little Free Library. I did a quick search, and this is the first picture of it in the snow, I think. I love that our neighborhood keeps it so well stocked. It used to be all my responsibility in the other place where we had it from 2012-2016.

fitness all the goodness

Pic: Weird angle, but that's Engie and me after we finished Day Two of Prana with Adrienne on Julie's invitation. Thanks for introducing me to this yoga series, Julie! 

Yes! Engie visited me on her way to do important stuff and we hung out and it was lovely! It was like a snow globe outside with light, falling snow, and we also took a walk to some of my favorite gardens. They were all empty and wintering, but I did describe how things are in the summer. I'm sure it was just as good as the real thing. 

(Also, this yoga series is clear and easy and I did not realize there was so much available for free on the internet. I have a Mirror, which needs a subscription and hasn't been reliable in a while having been bought out first by Lululemon and then Peloton... now I'm realizing that perhaps I don't even need it?

Day 1, 2025

A quiet and cozy start to the year... 

Nu's guests are still camped out in the rumpus room, their ukuleles and guitars around them.

Back to work for real--but I hang on to emails so as to not be the weirdo who sends out emails when others are still on break. 

I take walks with Max and later with Big A. Everything is grey and leaden. Unrealistically, as soon as Christmas and the NYE have been celebrated, I expect the world to switch into Spring. This despite having lived in the midwest for close to two decades now. Climate change is making this happen sometimes, but that is a different kind of panic. 

I catch up with people on text and WhatsApp and calls. When the kids were younger, it was important to me that we were all in a family group hug at midnight. These days, it's important that I get some quality conversation in with everyone.... Yoga with Julie/Adrienne, some reading, some Arabic practice, some soaking in the tub, some putting Christmas away... I took care of seven (out of my million plants) and experimented with a couple of new thrift-shop projects...

I make lentil soup for dinner; the bakery croissants that people have been ignoring all week went on the dinner table nicely toasted... and thankfully vanished. The round shapes of the lentils are supposed to represent prosperity, and Nu decided to pretend that each circle is a million dollars coming their way. Everyone should start sending their wishlists to Nu. 

Pic: Early in the morning, out with Max.

new year thoughts

I finally finished the paper proposal based on disability in Jhumpa Lahiri's Roman Stories I've been embroidering in my head for a while. It's going to two conferences. I don't know if I can actually travel to both of them--but those are bridges for later.

*

Big A got a holiday bonus and I got to give away lots of it--most of it to PAMA and PCRF. But we dug up some more for Lansing organizations like the Refugee Development Center, our local queer community space--Salus Center,  and Nation Outside a Michigan-based advocacy group led by the formerly incarcerated. 

*

I started a poem (and then ran out of steam): 

accidents constellate our past

hope peoples our future

we need imagination

to survive

*

I survived 2024. I spoke up, and spoke my truth no matter how small my voice started or how repetitive I thought I would sound.

And I'm grateful for everyone who listened even when I didn't say the right thing or say things the right way. I hope 2025 lets me walk gently on this Earth in solidarity with other living beings.

*

And now, as Rilke says, we get to welcome the New Year "Full of things that have never been.” Happy New Year!

Pic: Nu was hosting some friends for NYE, so Big A and I took a walk to the rooftop bar downtown. This party was loud, but the music and drinks were strong. I thought I was getting a photo of the fireworks on the skyline, but I think I got one of the the first emergency vehicle of 2025 instead. It reminded me a bit of NYEs past in NYC and Chennai as we walked past choruses of people wishing us a happy new year on our way home.

here we are now...

On the cusp of the last day of the year...

I have hopes for 2025--high hopes. Despite the election results and the impending inauguration. Why not? Imagination is free after all. But also, when I tally my efforts I judge based on whether on not I did my best. I usually am doing my best, so I tend to be kind to myself even if the results aren't what I'd originally hoped for. 

Right now feels a bit more stable than this time last year in terms of everyone's health (MIL may be mobile as soon as next week) and prospects, and I'll take that. The people in my life are my blessings and joys. The most important part is that I'm rich in human connections.

(And spiritual connections if my overcrowded altar is any indication. I tend to put everything people give me on it, plus it's a busy time of the year with both the nativity and the menorah out.)

Pic: My overcrowded altar yesterday. And I thought it was overcrowded two years ago... Additions have been Scout's picture, some new icons, the guide birds, and from this angle some of the holiday cards on the side table.

"Bitch, don't kill my vibe"

I was there for my family, friends, and community over the holidays...

but...

Gaza was never far from my thoughts. This is the second winter many families are spending in emergency tents that are falling apart. Many GoFundMes started for escape have now been reduced to appeals for tent repair or food. Israel bombed Kamal Adwan, the last functioning hospital, and arrested its medical director, Dr. Hussam Abu Safiya, when he wouldn't desert his critically ill patients. More World Central Kitchen workers have died, and more U.N. workers have died. Amnesty International, the U.N., the International Criminal Court (ICC), and the International Court of Justice (ICJ) have all concluded that this is against international law, but people continue to be killed every day, and infants are freezing or starving to death. It all feels too much. They say Reagan was able to end the bombing in Beirut with a single phone call, where is the political will to end the bombing in Gaza? Incidentally, President Carter, who died today, was a real one for correctly calling the situation in Palestine apartheid. (I am grateful for all his anti-racist work, especially post-presidency, and at dinner today, we were saying how he embodied the best aspects of Christianity--service and love.)

I kept muttering Kendrick's song title to myself so I wouldn't say anything inadvertently because I knew people were just trying to get through a difficult year for themselves. For many of my friends, the US elections have left a pall, my MIL broke her foot on Christmas day, and Big A's cousin's wife died on Christmas Day after being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer just three months ago. Big A hasn't seen his cousin in decades, but they used to spend summers together. Reading the eulogies about MS, I wish I had known her--she seems to have been a wonderful person who was a master gardener and friend to the unhoused. 

Anyway, I'll save my disquiet so I can fight another day. 

Pic: Today's rainy weather didn't help my mood or anything; but here's a memory of yesterday's blue sky. 

life is for everyone

oh friend, pain is trying
I so regret all  the things 

I didn't do with this body

in all its many instances 

and interruptions of love

to how my mother calls me

Kanna, my eye, and claims 

she loves both  her children

the same--how can I choose

between either eye--she'll ask
 
how sentimental  these stories

we tell ourselves, despite haste,

the blade clenched to scapegoat 

joy, awe--spliced by anxiety as

faithful as any real physical law

Oh friend, in  the heart  shapes

of our language, I hear how we

are larger  than  you, than  me, 

how survival means we live... 

not forgetting what we live for

_______________________

Note: On our walk today, Big A talked about his swollen, arthritic finger joint and it reminded me of when Lisa had posted a picture of her RA flare and broke my heart when she noted how it hurt when she held hands with her youngest because he's too young to know not to hold "too hard." And that got me thinking of friends and family who must consider/monitor/battle health conditions and how we all do our best with the bodies we've accrued over the decades. But also how the body is a stand-in for "more." I loved this article on how Kindness improves our health.  

Pic: KM and JB's wonderful collection of menorahs at their Hanukkah party. I wish I'd gotten a picture when they were magnificently lit up.

in the end if there is no end

I meant  to write  about sunlit Delphi,  the old gods secret in the shadows

but here in Michigan, the old  gods are past, and the sky does what it does 

whatever we dream will be better than this, better than here, better than now

I set out a place for my guru to sit in, laid out offerings of flowers and fruit

the grit of river sand, screams from my childbirths, and grief from our fights

I never knew the words to prayer, or I've forgotten, yet wait for fortune to fall 

for lives are libraries of restored light: take all you want, we're still returned here

 our words, oceans bending to belong in every mouth; other words lie under ours

 could this be our quiet power, our godly levitation--loving and freeing at once?

_____________________

Note: I know what I want the last line to do, but it's not doing it right yet... I'll keep fiddling. 

Pic: The Red Cedar this afternoon--icy, grey, and deserted. The snow has receded, temperatures are climbing, and everything seems wet, grimy, and sodden. 

What it is/What is it

* At stopped by this morning and helped me address and stamp the remaining holiday cards and I got to hear more about their time in Seattle a couple of weeks back as we worked. I loved the story of how they were going to do a last-minute visit to the Kurt Cobain memorial bench before their 12 am flight back when they met someone interesting... it was such a meet-cute--Cinderella-esque midnight deadline and all!

*  Nu, At, and I took our Flu and Covid shots! (Big A got his at work ages ago.) We got the Novavax, and so far, so good. I've not fallen apart or taken to my bed like a Victorian lady... yet. 

* Hanukkah started last night! This is yet another year I'm using birthday candles for our menorah. I'm good at making them stick with a bit of melty wax, but it's not ideal. Big A's the one with Jewish heritage, so I'm going to put him in charge of getting the Nerot next year. 

*I've jumped back into work via email, phone calls, and light editing again. Is it too early? It feels too early.

*Pic: The whatsit I got at the thrift store when I took Nu to shop on Monday... I love birds and found this lidded container irresistible especially because it cost all of 6.06 and was also "on sale" so I paid less than 4.00 $. It says "Made in Italy" on the bottom and is so intricate... and impractical. Like what would one put in it?! (Nu's tongue-in-cheek suggestion was soup.) A reverse Google image search suggests it's a "trinket dish." I might use the bottom as a cache pot for a plant and the top as a frame for mint, moss, or a succulent that could grow out of the openings? Ideas?

from the other side of Christmas

I'm not sure how it happened, but when Nu came down for Christmas--and while I was still listening to carols and checking on the Christmas breakfast pudding--Big A decided to tell them how much baking soda you'd need to mix with cocaine to make crack. 

But the rest of Christmas was more traditional (for us, anyway). Big A was off Thanksgiving this year, so he's working over Christmas--this is the standard E.R. scheduling tradeoff. But the kids have learned to accommodate celebrations around his schedule over the years. I started to wake the kids up when A was on his way home from work after his night shift so when he got home and decompressed for a bit, we could go to cider, stockings, presents, and then Christmas pudding brunch, lazing around, snuggles, napping, movies, biriyani, and so on.

It kind of felt like the nicest Christmas in a few years. The kids have had a couple of rocky years recently, but we're on the other side of that now one way or the other. It's also our second year of Christmas without Scout--no one approaches his level of enthusiasm for Christmas, which will always be bittersweet. 

I put LifeStraws in everyone's stockings including my own (during an anxiety-prone week is my guess). I'd wrapped everyone's presents long before I left for Greece. That was a while ago and I lowkey forgot some of the details, so I was nicely surprised as people opened their presents too. Ha. As for myself, my massage budget has been replenished, and I've been promised a trip to the Grand Canyon in October! I'd mentioned to Big A that I had poetry accepted to three anthologies this year and that I'd like to maybe get a book of poetry out into the world in the coming year--and I got a stack of autographed books of poetry including Mosab Abu Toha's for inspiration. That was the sweetest present.

Pic: Nu being a silly Christmas elf, and all of their siblings--Max, Huck, At--looking at them adoringly. There's a sliver of Big A still in scrubs in the corner and the clutter of opened and unopened presents all around them. 

P.S. In the comments to yesterday's post, Nance used the term "sanitation worker." I'm not sure if it was intended as a gentle correction, but it worked as one. It immediately sounded like a more courteous term, and when I looked up how the relevant union refered to themselves, it seemed the term of choice. So it will be what I will use going forward. As the better Maya said, "Now that I know better, I [can] do better."

Christmas bonuses

Christmas is extra special because At spends Christmas Eve here. The kids didn't want to go to the candlelight service at the UU (I guess that was always me), but they still enjoy getting their Christmas Eve pajamas, fuzzy socks, and ALL THE books.

Speaking of bonuses, I set out the gifts and cash bonuses for the trash collectors and mail deliverers this morning. In the past, our trash was collected by a team of two so I set out two of everything for them. But I guess the team has been reduced to just one person because only half the things had been taken when I went out later. I'm blown away by the uprightness of this! I would not have known or cared if the one person had taken it all. People are just so amazing. (This person is doing all the work and they deserve all of the cash bonus; I plan to get the remainder to them next week.) 

Pic: Nu and At in their fuzzy pajamas. I'm proud of the old copy of Susan Faludi's Backlash I found for At and the copy of Michael Kimmel's Guyland I found for Nu. Classics both. 

colorful leftovers

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve! Today was just making sure everything was ready for tomorrow. Nu didn't have presents for everyone, so we went thrifting as we had missed all the craft bazaars and Nu doesn't like big box stores. 

I've gotten really tight-fisted about spending money on things, as extra money goes to GoFundMes and E-Sim top-ups. But spending money on celebrating community is a joyous loophole. Planning and coordinating an event is also a welcome distraction when I'm trying to fall asleep. Guests from Saturday's party shared pictures with me and it got me thinking back, and I thought I'd record my favorite parts for next time. 

Of course, it was because of all the people who came that it was a lovely afternoon. It was so great to see faraway friends from Grand Rapids, Midland, Alma, Manistee, Mt. Pleasant, Ann Arbor, Detroit, Flint, and more. By far, the best thing I did was use my quarterly massage budget to ask my therapist if she could be at the party to give guests mini massages. She was amazing and people loved it. (It sounds like I made a big sacrifice, but it's Christmas now and my birthday soon, and don't cry for me, Internet--I will probably have a massage budget again when my fam finds out.)

Table: I used a fuzzy green blanket someone had given me as a tablecloth (lol) and had to move some of the decorative elements off the table as people brought in so many cookies. I made the Christmas Toffee that Nance recommended. (Also, I can't say how much I respect and love Nance for not using the more common name for that snack.) By far, the prettiest thing I made was a similar hummus Christmas Wreath and it took all of five minutes (you can kind of see it at the far end of the table). I spent a good part of Friday bugging Big A and LB if my Christmas Tree goat cheese actually looked like a Christmas Tree (Big A: Kind of?" LB: "Sure, Maya"), so it was a relief the wreath immediately turned out like a wreath and I didn't have to bug anyone for validation.

Playlist: New this year was Finneas "Another Year" ("I don't believe that Jesus Christ was born to save me/That's an awful lot of pressure for a baby"), Charlie Puth "December 25th" (the beginning sounds so much like "Last Christmas!!"), and RuPaul "Hey Sis, It's Christmas" (If you want nontraditional interpretations of "gay" and "ho"). Not really Christmassy but wintery songs like Fleet Foxes "White Winter Hymnal" and my favorite British-American bands--Slade "Merry Xmas Everbody," The Pretenders "2000 Miles," John Lennon and Yoko Ono "Happy Xmas (War is Over)," and Lindsay Buckingham "Holiday Road'. Plus a bunch of Diana Ross, Aretha Franklin, Cher, Norah Jones, and Linus and Lucy suites from A Charlie Brown Christmas to round things off sweetly.

Pic: AS's photo.

roUGH and toUGH

Discussions from the annals of today's family chat:

Don't cross the picket line. Starbucks Union baristas are calling for customers to boycott Starbucks through the 24th as they strike for respectful negotiations and fair wages. (This is easy for me since I don't drink coffee and am notoriously [hilariously] intimidated by situations where I have to order in a line when people are waiting behind me.)

Social media realities. This was a shoddy book (I flipped through it) and a shoddier movie (probably). Still, now I have to pay attention to this million-dollar misogyny machine nonsense to review how P.R. can distort social reality. The guy developed a feminist reputation, despite being a predatory harasser and retaliatory creep and then hired a P.R. firm to flip the script on his co-star Blake Lively. The alarming part here is that she's more famous than he is, but he thought he could get away with it because... he's a guy? 

Pic: A really leaden day: gray skies, gray water, chilly temps.