Life as busy-work

Our governor has closed indoor bars and has limited indoor gatherings to <10 ahead of campuses reopening, and is rightfully getting some love on the capitol lawns as EG's photo shows. Lots or ire too, I expect.

We figured out some glitches with Nu's Khan Academy sign-ins and established some house rules for timely work. Then Nu and I worked like friendly but respectful office buddies for a large part of the morning. Big A set the kids to work on clearing the front drive and they may or may not have had a leafblower battle, but they did a great job. Our long driveway was cleared by the time Big A and I set out on our riverwalk (we did a 'full Sparty' today--all the way to the football stadium).

I've needed to read something light after heart heavy reads earlier this week, and picked up and abandoned a couple of books before I decided on Kevin Wilson's Perfect Little World.  Among those abandoned--The Dinner List. I was slightly irritated by the 'Indian' name "Sumir," which while plausible, is so close to names like "Samir" or "Sumit" that it seemed like a typo. Then I was full-on irritated by another ostensibly Indian, but nonsensical name "Swani." OK, c'mon; how difficult would it have been to appeal to your social media hivemind or do a google search to find actual names?! Another book I abandoned was something donated to our Little Free Library--I had been forbidden to read it when I was a teen, so I went into it with high hopes, but it was very disappointing, and even determined skimming didn't turn up anything smutty. 

And finally after dinner, At took us through  Starship Troopers in an abbreviated (liberal fast-forwarding) and annotated ride (connecting to Umberto Eco's work) and then we retreated to our books, screens, and alone time. As Nu said somewhat wistfully earlier this week when they came to say goodnight, "And another day is done."

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.

Beautiful Ordinary 1, 2, 3

1. Compared to yesterday,  today's headcount was easier 😊.*

2. Pandemic realization #87654: I've always loved our big, communal family study, but it's a challenge when the foreseeable future holds a lot of overlapping meeting schedules.

3. I was SO proud of bestie KB at our final meeting today as she worked, spoke up, and fought for everyone's wellbeing. We voted on an important resolution that will hopefully make it a bit easier for people to work online without jumping through HR-related hoops.

* A note on how much I love these four and how much I love to see them hanging out together and how blessed I am that At (21) and Nu (12) will find things and shows and games to share across the generational and gender gaps. 

But as a reminder of the real here--the togetherness of this week is brought to you by Big A confiscating the kids' phones into next Tuesday.

Anti-Capitalist Walk-Talk

It was At's turn to walk with me today, and we ended up in hammocks after 20 or so mins, because it had gotten quite hot again. Our resident socialist was discussing the cultural theorist Mark Fisher, whose chapter titles are whimsical and full of possibility: "What if you held a protest and everyone came?" "It is easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism."  But I guess I didn't know the jarring reason why Fisher's writing stopped.

And also, I'll confess--my darling boy's Jesus of the Naxalites mien charms and alarms me in almost equal measure and for different reasons.

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.

Babies w/o Breakfast

The biggest = the saddest.

We're moving to a different online instructional platform at work, and my morning meeting ran late (there are so many morning meetings!!) and according to Big A's phone pic, some of the kids got hungry and anxious for breakfast. 😂

It's gloriously cooler with gray-stormy-gloomy weather outside. I canceled all school-adjacent activities for the 12-year-old, and can hear them cackling with their older sibling over ridiculous videos in the rumpus room now.

Out of the meeting, but deep into the woods of my email and editing...

Making Normal

At and Nu made me tea from the mint they'd harvested and dried last week.

Also, I should confess that I start a "tradition" nearly every other second. Here, the kids had  indulged--reluctantly--my proposition that we do yoga together, so I got them new yoga mats to sweeten the request (they immediately had a 'mat fight' and a 'telescope session' while I tried to save the tea from ending up in our laps; it wasn't zen :).

In the meantime, other incipient 'traditions' from earlier on in this pandemic--bake-alongs, hours-long cousins-zoom-chats, checking in on CF, EM, CC,  KB, JG, and students who cropped up in my head on a weekly (at least) basis have fallen off.

This week's realization is that I'm trying to remake normal or carry on like things are normal when they're patently not. I suspect I'll be back to upholding practices to make things feel less turbulent soon, but in the meantime, let me acknowledge my sad, madcap need to manage a worldwide pandemic.

In Between

                    I'm constantly veering between these two modes of engagement and information gathering. I know which one is useful and helpful, but I just can't help myself sometimes. 

Food (related) notes

These are the first of At's tomatoes and he has high hopes about serving them with breadcrumbs and mozzarella whenever they he happens to be ready.

I watched a few eps of the new Masterpiece/PBS orientalist fantasy Beecham House--somehow simultaneously overblown and underdone. William Dalrymple is a historical consultant on the show and it's directed by Gurindher Chadha, but despite those two it's really, really bad. I got so irritated almost immediately that the hindi dialogue gets mentioned but not translated e.g., "X speaks in Hindi"--What did he say?! How could it not matter?! Anyway, it inspired "Anglo-Indian" elements at dinner prep time--the peach chutney, ghee toast, and curry-poached cod came together from whatever we needed to use up before our Imperfect Foods box arrives tomorrow and the steamed veg was tongue-in-cheek homage to stereotypical Brit cuisine/me running out of time and imagination.

At dinner, it got us talking about trips to England (especially last year's "Cosmopolitan England" Spring term trip) and all the good meals we've eaten there (some straight out of Sainsbury's). I miss travel.

Another Day

When Scout climbs up on my hammock the way he is with Big A here, it can set me rocking for a long time.

I spent most of the day outside and people visited me from time to time as I finished the book I was reading (This Tender Land--I liked the Odyssey framing, but some parts were fairly twee and the ending was overstuffed and hurried).

We got some tiny tomatoes from my veggie plot!  And that was all the actual excitement the day held.

Who's petting whom?

At sent this selfie to family chat claiming Scout was asking for pets, but the picture shows it was Scout who was doing all the petting on his favorite boy.

Right?

Some bunny loves the sign!

I was worried about our sign being too loud, but this little guy seemed to paying attention. It looked like a charming vignette and I sent this picture to family chat with the caption "Some bunny loves the sign!" And then they started making jokes about how "we believe bunnies are for chasing."

 It was an eye-roll FML moment on chat--but I not-so-secretly love this IRL. Some ribbing and laughter make this isolation bearable.

"meeting"

Oh hey, look: a pic of At and me in the same frame. We're at a meeting with Senator Gary Peters' office making a case for us (the U.S.) to pay our U.N. dues and reinstate our membership in the World Health Organization.

BT made a point about how she and Peters were Alma grads and although both of them are before my time, I beamed as though I had personally handed them their diplomas.

Show and Tell

We were just given the new sign this week, and although I'm committed to all of the positions it articulates, it feels a bit performative having it out there next to our 'neighbor' sign and our Little Free Library and its rainbow tassels.

I guess though that if it changes someone's mind or helps someone feel a little less alone, it will have been worth it. And perhaps there should be an additional line for these times: "Wear your mask; show you care." 

At breakfast, Big A said, "it sure looks like old white liberals live here." The kids found that SO hilarious and guffawed long and hard. And they kept riffing on it and bringing up Bradley Whitford's character in Get Out who says "I'd have voted for Obama a third term if I could." It all feels a bit showy and like virtue-signaling--I hope we will do right by all these ideals.

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.

Sunrise/Sunset Style

Early morning hike with LB along the Red Cedar and we're terrorized by hordes of geese, horrified with their leavings, and kind of grateful for our pandemic masks.











Afternoon (social distancing) birthday visit and walk with CF along the Abbot trail and she and (contagiously me) are charmed by the faraway geese peaceably nestled far from the trail  in the rushes along the river.

Daily laugh/cry

This is so on the nose, I suspect someone in my teaching community wrote it.  Full thing is here at McSweeney's.

"Dear University Community,

Since we first announced our plans 
to reopen this fall (a far too early decision given the lack of reliable data about the likely 
prevalence of COVID-19 in the fall, but done out of necessity to beat the June 1st National 
College Decision Day deadline), many students, parents, faculty, and staff have asked us 
how we plan to ensure that we reopen safely. Our strategy is outlined below, but the short 
answer is this: Our university will proceed as if everything will be okay 
because we really, really want it to be."

Bad case of...

Huck has a gnarly patch in her under-chin fold that seems to be causing her some distress. But here, she looks adorably pensive, watching At take her picture,  having voluntarily retired to the puppy room (which usually doesn't happen and is yet another indication of her discomfort and pain).

We talked to the vet, but it looks like we'll need to take her in; the thought of leaving the house to go into someplace is giving me anxiety hives.

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."