more goodbye

I got greedy. 

At first I was just so grateful Scout was still here when I got back from Denver. Then I wanted more. My return perked him up and Sunday was such a very good day... so I began to feel the docs were wrong, and he'd somehow make it through.  

But after we got the second opinion and Scout got that semi shave, he seems to be declining again and not even I can ignore that everything seems to be a struggle for him right now.

I'm in no way prepared for a life without Scout.

Friends have been coming by to say goodbye...

Pic: BSL with Scout; Huckie sneaks a kiss.
 

favorite child

Pic: I've been thinking of this post from two years ago a lot. It's clear now, despite all my previous protestations, that I do have a favorite child... and Scout is it. 

"yesterday... all my troubles seemed so far away"

(Sounds weird to say it, but...) I had a great day yesterday. 

On Friday, the E.R. doc had said that it was merely a matter of "hours or days" for Scout, so getting home a day and a half later and seeing him wag his tail in greeting and get on his feet for pets from me was terrific in itself.

And then I got to have all my kids at breakfast (two at the counter, the other two on the floor) wanting attention, sharing news, being themselves. Really... it's what I've missed every day since At went away to college. I spent the rest of the morning talking/reading --At's head in my lap; Nu (who's way less touchy-feely) on the sofa next to me, letting me squeeze their shoulder now and then; Scout and Huckie snuggled up on my other side. Then I made lunch for everyone. Then people went off to do their own thing for a while. Then I made dinner for everyone. Then we watched a show and played word games. It was like an ordinary and perfect Sunday.

And maybe I'm only seeing what I want to see, but while Scout does look unwell, he doesn't look like he's at death's door. For hours at a time, I could almost forget that the options we'd been given for Scout were surgery (with a failure rate of 7/10) and "humane euthanasia." 

Today we took Scout to another hospital for a second opinion, because surely those can't be the only options? But no--those are the only options. He's hospitalized for the day so they can do a detailed ultrasound to determine if surgery is even viable, and then we get to have that discussion about whether to put him through surgery all over again. 

I'm not having a great day today. Going this whole day without Scout when our days together are so numbered seems especially stupid. 

Pic: Scout (and Huckie) following me around yesterday.

the waiting game

Just waiting to go home to Scout and I'm in that space where everything feels surreal, and other people seem alien.

All I've done today is cry a lot and wish for the day to pass quickly. It didn't, but no matter how slowly... time passes.

At the airport now, waiting to board the flight, which is delayed--but not by much. Fingers crossed.

stuck in Denver...

Big A is with Scout at the E.R. because my baby is not doing well. They see a lot of fluid they think is blood in his ultrasound and... it doesn't look good.

Over the last couple of years, Scout has run into health problems and I've involuntarily imagined the end. In none of those scenarios did I ever imagine that I wouldn't be right there with him. 

I'm scheduled to leave for home at midnight tomorrow. And there are no other available flights that get me in earlier...

I don't know how I'm going to get through the next 36 hours before I see Scout. I hope I see Scout. 

Pic: From the walkway bridge inside the hotel when I didn't know Scout was declining.

2016 redux: good bones, breaking news

You've surely read Maggie Smith's poem "Good Bones," which went viral in 2016 and you should read the article she published in The Cut yesterday about how her fame led to the breakdown of her marriage. Her ex sounds like a dick--any marriage in which one spouse becomes "the staff" in the household is deeply unjust and unloving.

That aside, I was distracted by her declaration that "When I walked in the door, I was married. Mrs. When I walked outside, I was divorced. Ms." This isn't the point of the article, but where does this belief that "Ms." is for divorced women come from? I thought the whole damn point of "Ms." was to move away from the marriage specificity of "Miss" and "Mrs." I was a "Ms."since I was 14? 15? Currently, I like"Mx" best of all.

I'm in Denver with our English honorary students who are presenting at the annual international convention. At and Big A are home to make sure Nu has some fun on their Spring Break. They're having sleepovers and going to movies and I'm missing them and missing out.

Pic: The kids sent me this candid of Big A at the moment he found out about Trump being indicted for the 2016 hush money payment. Has any photo demonstrated more "fuck around and you'll find out" energy?

the mom who changed

I'm older, my mom is old... and I've mostly stopped trying to change her mind about stuff. We're both stubborn, we rarely persuade each other, and she gets pretty upset.

This morning she said something bigoted on the family chat, and I couldn't let it go. So I texted back some links about why she was wrong. She  texted back, cheekily, "Om Namo Namaha Lecture-ji" (vague translation: "I bow to you, respected lecturer").

I just giggled when I read that. I have no illusions that I changed her mind--but it does mean I got to see my mom deescalate a situation for what feels like the first time in my life.

by night and candlelight

I found this lovely Jeanette Winterson lifestyle quote yesterday, which got me reassessing dawn and dusk:

"I have noticed that when all the lights are on, people tend to talk about what they are doing–their outer lives. Sitting round in candlelight or firelight, people start to talk about how they are feeling–their inner lives... To sit alone without any electric light is curiously creative. I have my best ideas at dawn or at nightfall, but not if I switch on the lights...." (The entire thing, including some yummy food ideas, is here.)

I started today with a candlelight meditation... and look at me now, headed to bed before midnight like some fucking champion functioning adult.

Pic: A single lit votive brings glimmer to everyday objects. (The tiny, dried wildflowers I bought home from Las Ramblas last summer are a shot of joy every time I look at them. I remember how the vendor was so engrossed in his book, he didn't even look up as he pocketed the Euro I held out and handed this bunch over to me.)

best friends

Scout's still lagging. I've been told to keep an eye on him, so that's what I'm doing. He seems a bit better today, but I'm not sure if that's just me seeing what I want to see.

Anyway, I'm spending a lot of time daydreaming about my India trip in August and writing back all the school friends who remembered me on my birthday. And it got me thinking back to those intense friendships of girlhood where I'd spend all day passing notes in class and come home to talk for hours on the telephone to the same people. I really had nothing going on in my life then, so I can't even imagine what we talked about.

It blew my mind when I realized that SD my bestest friend through grades 6-10 (Holy Angels Convent) and NJ, my bestest friend in grades 10-12 (Sacred Heart School) have never met each other despite living in the same city... and the same neighborhood (Adayar) all these decades. How did that happen? When I told my sister this, she didn't think it was surprising at all. I guess when you live in a big city, your standards for accidental meetings are different. Also--I think new best friend and old best friend may have been somewhat wary of each other back then? We're all so much more mellow now... I'm wondering if I should introduce SD and NJ to each other after all these years this August or if the universe will implode in some way if I do.

Pic: Huck urging Scout--"hurry up, catch up!"

Spring things

Scout isn't feeling very well, so we went outside to work in the garden, because he likes to hang out with me there. And look! Hellebores are coming up around the pond. It definitely gave my heart a much-needed lift. 

But I think I'll call the vet tomorrow if Scout doesn't seem better. I just listened to a show where Karen Fine, who's promoting her new book The Other Family Doctor, talked about her life as a veterinarian--so I have the feeling "doesn't seem like himself" is a perfectly acceptable symptom.

At stopped by for family dinner, and I made Kothu Paratha, which is typically made from leftover parathas and curry... which we didn't have. So I made everything from scratch and now we have some tasty leftovers. 

While At was here, they got a text from Jaz Brisak for the first time and it was fun seeing them figure out what to text back without sounding too much like a stan. I think excitement was definitely warranted;  I mean, I was excited. Then At and I went for a long walk-and-talk in the springy drizzle. Lots of walking, lots of talking--until it got too wet and cold for me, and I caved and suggested we go inside. 

And that's the end of the weekend! But Nu is on Spring Break this week, so things should feel a little lighter.

Pic: Hellebores and little yellow pods I can't identify.

complex bedtime procrastination: am I up early or up late?

I'm putting it out into the universe that I need to get better at sleep hygiene. Is it even revenge bedtime procrastination if what I'm doing obsessively at 3:00 am is work-related? (I was Spring Term visioning last night.) 

I make a lot of excuses: I need to spend time downstairs with Scout and Huck (Scout cannot do stairs anymore and does not like to be carried); Big A works nights and has a messed up sleep schedule and I'm sympathy messing up my sleep schedule (but he can sleep during the day and I can't); I seem to be getting by fine with 3-4 hours in bed (but surely this cannot be good for me?); when Big A is at work, I'm a bit too anxious to sleep (and then we text a lot in the middle of the night and I like doing that); the afore-mentioned revenge bedtime procrastination after long work days (when I'm reading or scrolling with heavy eyes and fingers).

Stuff's complex, but I'm sure there are hacks to deal with each element of this. 

Pic: In other news, I didn't leave the house at all today--a combination of exhaustion, midday work meeting, rainy day, eyebrow zit, weekend, Nu on Spring break, etc. So this picture is from last week's solo walk on the MSU campus. I love the simplicity, vagueness, and the enthusiasm. And I heart exclamation points!

conjectural

I've been hearing that people who think they're attractive prefer not to mask. I mask everywhere--read into that what you will. 

However, I'm still vain enough that if my eyebrow piercing were infected and zitty looking, I'd wear beanie pulled over it all day at work.

Just saying.

Pic: Me in my office this morning.
 

a feminist fair

We held our eighth WGS Symposium today, and students did SUCH a great job. I was a bit miffed on their behalf that we didn't get a bigger crowd. They worked so hard and were so creative in their projects--they deserve ALL the acclaim.

I have been bragging      
about     
these people    
for           

years now. 

I took tons of photos as usual. My favorite this year has to be the poster about men's mental health surrounded by the smiling faces of the many guys who came out to support their friend. 

I feel so hopeful around my students. 😍 

Pic: The Gender-affirming table with pronoun pins, and a blank U.S. map to test attendees' knowledge of trans-exclusionary states.

show and tell

L is back! L is back! But just for 24 hours. She's leaving again tomorrow, headed west and then south for weddings and what she's calling a "birthday for the masses."

L has been gone for a month, and we've missed each other dearly. It was good to spend some time early this morning bringing each other up to date on all the things we'd been saving to share. And while we didn't go on one of our legendary hikes, as her leg isn't feeling normal yet, we made it to the Radiology Gardens. 

People in other parts of the country have been posting crocuses, daffodils, and cherry blossoms... nothing's coming up here except maybe hellebores. We're not there yet, but I can sense Spring, and am so excited for it. 

Later in the day, At invited me to the Starbucks down the street... to protest... as they were having a "sip-in." But I couldn't go this time. And then At and Nu went to see Lynn Nottage's Sweat at the Wharton. I would have liked to go with them, but no one asked me. Whomp-whomp. Also, I had a meeting. Whomp-whomp-whomp.

Pic: Aconites and snowdrops under a bare Linden tree. MSU Radiology Gardens.

From the Dictionary of Sleeplessness

memory is just a mix-and-match
of a hundred doors and 

a hundred songs 

reverie is very nearly recovery

the surprise surplus from  

my unspent dreams

mystery is a mess of meditation

the splash of insight amidst

the magic wreckage

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

Pic: On a day I needed kindness, waiting at my office door were kind words and a Princely present from CW--student-teacher and barista extraordinaire. I get by purely because there are so many kind and lovely people in the world who help me through this thing called life.

(AI) Art Class

If it takes a special kind of nerd to sit in a classroom on Sunday afternoon, I am that nerd. 

EM and I signed up for an AI art workshop around my birthday--I'd asked friends to give me experiences/donations to RDC this year since I already have so much stuff, and this was EM's pick for me. (Let the record show I tried to make her take me to Cocaine Bear, but she balked. Even birthdays will only get you so far. Ha.)

I enjoyed the heck out of the fact that our instructor for this very new tech was a very old person. Take that, ageism! EM and I played with style and color all afternoon. It was fun, especially since I'm not an artist in real life. But like Chat GPT with writing, Dall-E is just ok. 

Also (pet peeves coming up next): I thought the point was to get AI to do the boring tasks so humans could have more time for creative ones, not vice versa. It also bugs me when corporations (via AI) steal samples from artists to make stuff (it doesn't bother me when those roles are reversed).

Pic: "Holi in the style of Marc Chagall" by Dall-E2. Love the colors, but the expressions are off; the two on the right look especially tortured.

 

Holi Heyyyy!!

I put off our Holi celebrations for a couple of weeks hoping it would seem more spring like when we celebrated since Holi is traditionally celebrated to welcome spring--but today turned out to be the coldest and windiest it has been in weeks... 

Still and all, our friends rallied and showed up despite the gusting snow flurries. We fired up a Bollywood playlist, put out Costco snacks, set out Holi colors, and a good time was had by all. 

I mean... did "Holi Heyyyy!" (It's Holi) become "Heyyyy, Holi" (Hello, Holi)? Sure; but that made it perfect in its own way.

Pic: Nu and their friends mid celebration. 

marking some moments

It's St. Patrick's Day!*

It's conference day!

I spent all day chairing the WGS section of a conference. Four of my (undergraduate) students presented--brilliantly. I was so proud of them. 

Some years we mark St. Pat's Day--our Ganesha wears green, and we make Irish food. This year Nu forgot to wear green was wearing their usual black (and red) so someone gave them a slip of green construction paper to pin to their clothes.

Shoutout to the Michigan legislature for some heartening legislation recently. Yesterday, we passed gun control bills (not perfect, but a start) and expanded the Elliot Larsen Civil Rights Law to include prohibition of discrimination on the basis of "sexual orientation and gender or identity or expression." This protects the wellbeing and safety of so many young people I know and love, and I'm truly ecstatic about it.

Pic: A screen shot of some of us at the conference... I like how it looks like an academic photo booth!

* We're not Irish, but I love the Irish for their centuries-long struggle against British colonial rule and inspiring and mentoring the India Home Rule League along the lines of the Irish Home Rule League in the 19th century. Their anti-apartheid work in South Africa and Palestine in the 20th and 21st centuries is another A+. And of course--we all love Derry Girls.

bits of weirdness

I'm having a tough time of it. 

Campus still feels eerie. And in its own way, that feels right. We shouldn't be able to go from losing someone to life as usual. 

And then my dad's younger brother died this week. A family of six brothers, they were the two closest in age and everything else. This uncle absolutely loved dad. My sister and I always rolled our eyes when he was around, because he took up so much of our dad's time when we wanted it all to ourselves as dad was (and is still) the fun parent. 

I was randomly thinking of my uncle on Tuesday... and then on Wednesday I heard from family about his passing. That (coincidence?) felt weird and spooked me and now I'm kind of scared to think of anyone. (Nu's advice: maybe only think of people you don't like. My kid is too funny/frightening.)

I spent a long time--like a weirdo--watching a three-legged deer on their nighttime nosh in the front yard tonight. It may have been the same three-legged deer from year 1 of the pandemic--the stump seems nicely healed and they seemed comfortable moving around. 

Pic: A card Nu made for me earlier this month.

back in the dark

One of our students passed away at the local hospital yesterday. I came home early today after canceling my second class so students could attend the vigil and seek support services. But although I'm home early, I feel tired and sad and my whole body hurts. I don't think I've ever met or interacted with this student--torn between relieved it's someone I didn't know and dejected that it's someone I will never know now.

Pic: Thanks to DST, the morning walk to Nu's school bus with Scout and Huck is in the dark again. Beautiful, haloed half moon in the sky today though.