Some instances of writing I was happy to see today:

*     All the progress I'm making with indexing the book--a task I've never undertaken before.

*     The kind, nondramatic way the henna artist responded to my gentle breakup text: "it was nice meeting you...thats fiiiinee" (She was at the party yesterday, and I'd planned to have her at our Diwali party next week too, but her work was different from what I had in mind.)

*     The most perfect set of answers to a quiz about the British Romantics from a student in Gaza. They described "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" as "the quintessential romantic poem," which it certainly is. 

*     My seventh piece of handwritten mail urging me to vote. Some were postcards, this one was an actual letter. The Michigan vote will matter, and I guess it's making non-Michiganders anxious. (How I wish Harris-Walz had treated the folks from Uncommitted with more care and respect.)

*     A weird Lord of the Rings meme At sent me at 5:25 am in the morning... I'm not sure why, but it's from my lovey, and sure, I'll take it!

Pic: I inscribed a walking path amongst the falling leaves with my rake and Max engraved his own tracks too. 

Athithi Deivo Bhava

I looked up from gathering my things to see the host's father talking to his daughter, pointing at me from across the room accusingly, and saying something about "that girl..." My crime? I was trying to leave without taking food home with me. So I was properly chastised and packed up with leftovers.

It was lovely to take a break and celebrate an early Diwali with the girlfriends, play with some delicious babies, eat some delicious food, and celebrate life and light today.

The thing with the food reminds me that according to legend, Alexander the Great is supposed to have said that in all his conquests, he'd never encountered hospitality as pronounced as that in India. And that always made me wonder (1) how can you tell if the people you conquered are acting hospitable or servile (2) the Greeks and Persians whom Alexander conquered before he got to the Indians also make a big deal of hospitality in my experience (to this day), so I'm not sure what he was talking about. 

The title of this post is from the Sanskrit saying "the guest is (like a) God," which people like to drop into conversation. 

Pic: A crop of me from a group photo today--I tried a thing with bangs, my first time since giving myself pandemic bangs early in 2020.

this intercession

I wear today like a kingdom
though weary and rugged 
how many times can I speak 
about having grown

my memories into answers

and into prayers

begging for rain and reprieve

and reasons to remain

history doesn't have to betray

it can be a recipe

you've always meant to try 

...keep reading

overhead, birds circle in clouds

I map them in words

coax them to perch as guards

although tomorrow

they want to be in the parade

and have the last line

_________

Pic: It's so beautifully, unbelievably golden when I look up.

marking myself safe

It has been a tough week, but I'm still here. 

One of my besties sent me this meme to remind me that I don't have to be super nice to everyone else while I'm feeling terrible. (The small font at the bottom says, hilariously, "Hello 911? How are you?")

Big A is jokingly pretend-placing bets with the kids on whether I'll be hospitalized for exhaustion or a mental breakdown and whether it'll be by Thanksgiving or Christmas.

But I AM doing things for myself. For instance, I had meetings all day, but I made the time to make and attend a long overdue medical appointment. (My finger is still splinted and I guess the days of just expecting my body to heal over are over?)

Also, I went to book club although I didn't quite finish Niall Williams' This is Happiness. It's a delightful, charming, poetic novel set in Ireland (and I should love it for that anti-colonial attribute alone) but I guess I wasn't in the right frame of mind to enjoy it. What I did enjoy, however, was sitting with a glass of wine and my book club friends while they cursed up a storm and exchanged GOTV stories from the trenches. My multigenerational friendships with women (this book club is mostly in their seventies) are some of the greatest blessings in my life. 

Currently, I'm wondering if it's worth it to go to bed as the Saturday class is at 7 am our time. 

Pic: This picture reminds me of the time I was so tired as an undergrad, I tripped over a beanbag and then reflexively apologized to it. Good times.

lost and found (Four for Thurs)

1) My Gaza students may be ok. (My Moodle skills may not.) But I.T. did some troubleshooting, and they can see students logging in, so hopefully this week's online class will be a go. 

2) I thought I was going to get to work later than I wanted, so I was merrily speeding along... Then, I thought I was definitely going to be late because I saw police lights flashing in my rearview. I got ready to pull over, but they just wanted to pass me. Phew. 

3) I heard about Robert Roberson on the way to work. His two-year-old died of complications from pneumonia--but the hospital thought it was shaken-baby syndrome in part because they thought he wasn't emotional enough (he is on the autism spectrum!) Anyway, he ended up on death row, although everyone including medical experts and the arresting officer now agree he is innocent, with his execution date today. But the Texas Supreme Court halted the execution!

4) Pic: There are definitely hints of Fall color around, but inside the woods, it's still green as summer. Baker Woods with L.

"exchanged"

"May she is not her daughter. Hospital exchanged" [unedited]

I got this text from my mom last night as I was getting ready for bed and I couldn't understand it. Sometimes when my mom types Hindi or Telugu words autocorrect changes them into English and really messes things up, so I have to guess at her texts sometimes--I'm used to that. But I showed this one to Big A because it was so strange, and he got it right away and I was SO impressed... he knows my mom and all her quirks so well! 

(I was trying to highlight my mom's quirks and couldn't decide whether to point out she likes the rapper Nelly or she likes to tease me or she loves to hear me sing or that she has the most unorthodox views of marriage and Hinduism or her pre-marriage days or her fighting days with my dad or how I feel my relationship with her was cloned in a novel after we'd had dinner with the novelist. Yes, I kind of went down a rabbit hole after I searched "mom" on my blog.)

Anyway, the background to that text is my mom's baby sister was widowed earlier this year, and although my aunt had wanted to live by herself, the family pressured her to live with her only child who appears to have put themselves on my aunt's bank accounts and then kicked her out. Big A interpreted my mom's text thus: "Athamma is saying your shitty cousin is not your aunt's real daughter, and that your aunt was given the wrong baby when she delivered at the hospital." I mean, what would it matter--my aunt had brought up my cousin, but yes, that is what my mom was saying. And my mom was so proud of A for figuring it out. 

Pic: This one made me cry. Max was hanging out outside and when I went to find him, he was curled up by Scout's memorial. He never met Scout, of course, but we do sound the wind chimes on our first trip outside every morning, perhaps that's why Max is feeling good vibes there? Or maybe (just maybe) Scout lingers there somehow? I swear--every morning, the tree-of-life solar lantern flickers when I sound the chimes... 

faking, making, breaking

I'm talking to I.T. at Lille and An-Najah Universities to figure out where my Gazan students are and if there is a problem with my Moodle page. 

I expected today to be tough and it was: I was skating on the edge of tears and nauseous all day, but I did ok on this teaching day because I had prepped classes ahead of time, and had willing and engaged students. I even chuckled because of two videos I showed--Trevor Moore's "My Mom's A Bitch" (when we studied Robert Browning's "My Last Duchess" because both are terrific examples of dramatic monologues); and this old B&W clip of Carl Rogers and his client Gloria as we went into Rogerian Rhetoric (to show Rogerian modes in practice and also because it will never not be hilarious to see lightbulbs go off as young people figure out what Gloria's old-fashioned problem is). 

It was a long day at work and I didn't melt down until much later with Big A who is the best. He did suggest that I stop taking on more responsibilities and I kind of am. My CASA director had contacted me with a new case last week, but I'm holding off on accepting it until I figure out how it feels to teach an extra online class this semester.

Pic: Things left for me... The book outside my door was expected. The napkin note is a mystery! It was left under the windshield wiper of my car. At first, I thought it was a parking ticket because I'm driving a loaner from the dealership and it doesn't have my faculty parking sticker. And I can't figure out who it is, because I don't have very many "XOX"-style friendships on campus and none of them are an "L." Perhaps it's an "L" from another facet of my life? Why "L" and not their name? How do they know that's my car? (It's a loaner I picked up just last week.) Mysteries abound! 

missing, mixed up, and meandering

Thank you to everyone who sent good wishes to my missing students in Gaza. I hope it's just that they're goofing off. Also, can you imagine signing up for something like "Literature Survey 2: Romanticism to Post-Modernism," while being bombed and displaced? (I can't.)

I've been thinking about them all day and then those thoughts get mixed up with how much I love my human kids and my canine kids (I don't think I'll ever recover from losing Scout). And then about how when the kids were younger they'd get jealous because they could tell I loved my students. It's no secret that students matter a great deal to me and for the time they are in my care, I love them dearly and consider it an honor when I get to continue to be in their lives as a mentor and get to see their new jobs, and weddings and kids and reinventions. Someday, I'll be like Mr. Chips, my kids just lists of all the young people who have meant so much to me.

(And lately, as I get older, I feel waves of affection for young people in general. Babies and toddlers and little kids and tweens and teens obviously. But also random young people. Like the other day, I passed these two young women with their bags of Trader Joe's groceries and two-buck Chucks under their arms and just... I don't know... could see the evening they'd planned for themselves and was just overcome and hoped they'd have the best time.)

This is why I can't understand how we're going about our lives while children are being killed in the most gruesome ways. When there is so much visual evidence of it happening every day. 

Apparently, there's a video on the news now showing children being burned alive in a hospital. Children. Being burned. While alive. In a hospital. Every detail is a new level of hell. 

A whole year ago, I was horrified and the horrors have just kept multiplying and spreading. At the time, I quoted James Baldwin, "The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe; and I am beginning to suspect that whoever is incapable of recognizing this is incapable of morality." And I love the strength and conviction of Baldwin's statement and simultaneously feel so helpless about getting my government (that could end this horror with a single phone call) to acknowledge it. I feel like a character from The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas protecting sanity and the status quo.

(In the meantime, I better go to bed, so I can do ok for my students who can show up. One of them wrote last week, "This class is my all-time favorite class if I could take this class over and over again I would. Everyday is a favorite moment." [unedited] I mean it sounds a bit Groundhog Day, but little did they know when they wrote that, that it would give me a reason to show up this week.)

entering the scene

still all these years later 

and probably always 

I will know how 

                     even in fall's dull decay 

                     even as I am emptied

                     how rich the world

how it reads many books all 

at once even as I strive

to get through one

                     I wish I didn't lose plots

                     as if I had holes in my 

                     hands and my head

I've even lost the character 

I used to be--who waits

for me to return

                     all her soul's myriad lights 

                     merely dormant mirrors

                     for right now  

________________

Note: I'm trying to escape. I'm playing word games in word worlds because things in the world are too horrific. Another refugee camp (Jabalia) and another hospital (Al Aqsa) were bombed today. The eleven students from Gaza who had signed up for the online course, "Literature Survey 2: Romanticism to Post-Modernism," neither showed up to our weekly class meeting nor responded to the class materials. If this were a regular class, I'd be worried things weren't going well, but in this extraordinary circumstance, I'm so worried something has happened to all my students.

Pic: Autumn colors and orange koi who came up to say hello. (Radiology Gardens; from a walk with LB. Big A and I took a walk right after this one. We got rained on, but stubbornly persisted for a full Super Sparty loop.) 

just look up

I'm not alarmed 

by the new 
today

                       forever is now

                       remembering  

                       is yesterday

cues alighting

on  our  lips

and eyelids

                       speak warnings/

                       seek welcome

                       like this

_____

Pic: I did it! Last month, I hoped to get a picture of geese heading out in a "V" and seem to have managed it. (Not perfectly, but I'm counting it.)

 

A beast and some beauty

It was a beast of a day. The college board has decided that with declining numbers they'll need to cut 33 full-time positions to stay fiscally viable. The sense of panic and grief was constant at today's faculty meeting and at most of the meetings leading into it. Tears, gallows humor, anger... I saw it all. 

On top of the lowgrade panic of the election, this job uncertainty feels almost unbearable. The plan is to announce the cuts by December 15th, which is apparently the deadline the AAUP suggests so people can begin to look for jobs for the next academic year. (But also, with the state of higher ed, what jobs?) 

The two bright spots at work were completing some more paperwork for the prison class (I always procrastinate on paperwork) and a mood-uplifting meeting with my student, faculty, and staff sisters on the Women's Board.

At home, it was Nu's actual birthday, and they seem kind of lit up from within. Heart eyes. 

Pic: The evening sky on my way home from work. The wind turbines and the cornfields make this so innately mid-Michgan. (I cropped out most of the car--I know, I know, I shouldn't be taking pictures--it was just so pretty though.)

going on 17

Nu turns 17 tomorrow and they have plans with friends, so we had our family celebration today with pizza, cake, and presents. Nu rarely wants things, so we collaborated on a list of 70 songs about 17-year-olds that they loved. Steph, did something like this for North, I think? We weeded out the more letchy ones (there are so many songs about adult men checking out 17-year-old girls!) and tried to find songs that described being 17. The top ones: "Seventeen without a purpose or direction, we don't owe anyone a fucking explanation" (The Rock Show, Blink-182); "You won't be seventeen forever and we can get away with this tonight" (Seventeen Forever, Metro Station); "Pack me up and put me in a time machine, so I can remember when we were seventeen" (Seventeen, Four Year Strong). There are so many songs about being 17, and Nu thinks it has something to do with the number of syllables in "seventeen," rather than the age itself. Also: The grandparents sent gift cards and cash, this Pack Rat puppet who carries a knapsack might be their new purse, they have a new speaker for their room, and a snack box from Japan. 

Big A is working tonight, so he headed to bed after dinner while the kids and I headed out to see The Substance. It was a bit heavy-handed and the body horror was extreme enough to make me want to retch--but the kids thought it was all hilarious. What on earth have I wrought?! 

After we dropped At off, Nu started to play Imogen Heap on the car stereo. I don't even know how Nu found this music that's now nearly 20 years old... I internally debated whether I should tell them that I had always thought of "Goodnight and Go" as my song for A (not the stalker-y bits, but the "must you make me laugh so much" section and also the oops missed the train home part). I ended up telling them, and then they earnestly asked me if I would be okay "sharing" the song with them. I guess the kids are alright after all. 

(Whom am I kidding? I love my little humans to bits... I can't believe this may be Nu's last birthday at home.)

Pic: Nu's delicious (pumpkin cheese)cake looks like it has a hundred candles because there are candles spelling out "Happy Birthday" in addition to their 17 candles.

coming back around

Friends and family in the path of Hurricane Milton are beginning to "mark" themselves safe; I hope that continues. For right now, it feels lovely to be back home where everything is normal and human-sized (as opposed to thousands of feet tall or deep à la Arches and Canyonlands). 

And on my first full day back, these four beautiful encounters felt like blessings.

1) When I went to pick up the holy basil (Tulsi) plant from the people selling it, they turned out to be a South Indian mother-daughter pair who were so, so nice. The daughter was relocating to the U.K. and when I told them that I had done my doctorate in the U.K., she turned out to be an Oxford Alumna too. At that point, they--naturally--invited me to come in and have "coffee and tiffin." 

2) Although it was mostly an intro to their online tech and learning platform (Moodle), there was a sense of solidarity at the Zoom meeting for the volunteer Gaza instructors. (The initiative is led by Lille University in France and hosted by AnNajah University in Palestine.) I gulped when the admin said it would be good to record lectures because students may not have internet access or electricity at class meeting times. Most of the other instructors were men, so when I spotted someone who appeared to be a woman, I Facebook-friended them like it was 2006. Then KK and I had a heartfelt exchange about why we were doing this and swore comradeship. 

3) Finally, and for no reason I can think of, my masseuse AM decided to gift me today's massage. First I demurred, then I refused outright... but she shut me down by saying she knew I would respect her decision. This feels too, too much--massaging is strenuous work and a whole hour out of her workday is too generous. When I asked her, she merely smiled and said, "What goes around comes around." Which is inscrutable but fair, I guess. But she doesn't know much about me and I really haven't ever done anything special for her. (Although I clearly need to now. Ideas welcome.)

4) Pic: It's late in the year, but I think this is a fritillary? They were just soaking up the sunshine and doing that thing where they open and close their wings--as though in pure pleasure. I kind of felt like that myself at odd moments during the day. 

goodbyes and good buys

This has already been a longer trip than our usual getaways, and I'm glad to head home, but I'm also sad to say goodbye. I would never choose to live in this rocky, arid place that is astoundingly beautiful and we have no plans to return in the foreseeable future as we have no family here and there are so many more National Parks to explore. So this is a proper goodbye for now. 

Things that have been absolute lifesavers on this trip--sunhats, sunscreen, snacks, and a backpack hydropack (like Camelback). I may have to make an exception to my no-buy rule because I saw someone in the airport restroom who had a tote they were carrying like a backpack (it had both tote and backpack handles). And now I really want one! I've been a carry-on-only traveler forever, and I think I'd look more grown up with a tote instead of a backpack!

Also: I was embarrassingly in "little lady" mode on this trip. I'm usually an equal partner, but I was extra dependent on this trip what with my busted-up splinted finger and being unable to deal with lifting my own suitcase, not wanting to drive that beast of an SUV, and my freakout (freakouts? I'll never tell!) about falling. I hope this changes back soon.

Pic: Goodbye Colorado River! #LaterPost 10/10

more than words... or pictures

The vastness of Canyonlands is immense--I'm still not sure I get it. To me, Arches seemed full of towering bluffs. Canyonlands seemed like vistas of canyons set out thousands of feet below us (Grand View Point has an elevation of 6000 ft.) and then on that level, there are further canyons going down hundreds or thousands of feet more (or that's what it looked like from our distant viewpoint). 

Canyonlands National Park is 527 square miles so it can take an hour or double that depending on where one wants to enter. We went with the closer entry point, Island in the Sun, which is also where the visitor center is so we could get the kids their socks and our National Parks Passport stamped. 

We did three hikes today: Murphy Overlook, Murphy Point, and the hike around the rim from Grand View Point. The heights are dizzying. And it was a nice literal reminder not to gaze too deep into the abyss. As we walked, I clarified my limitations about hiking around heights. If I can trip full length and then pick myself up and carry on, I'm fine with it; I draw the line at hiking on paths where a trip and fall might mean I fall off the cliff. That's reasonable, right? The geological scale of the depths at Canyonlands was somehow particularly terrifying--it was as though one would be falling down aeons and eras. 

Pic: We took a few "ussies" with this view, but our heads were getting in the way of all this awesomeness. #LaterPost 10/10

it's... a lot

We did so much at Arches today: Devil's Garden, Landscape Arch, Double Arch, Windows (North, South, the Turret), Pine Tree Arch, Sand Dune Arch, Eden Point. Double Arch was unexpectedly mindblowing for such a simple walk. There are reportedly 2000 arches, and we've barely seen 10%.  

While at Panorama* Point, we decided to return to the park at night to see the night skies without light pollution. I wondered if we should ask a park ranger when the right time to come see the stars would be and Big A said he knew when... "after dark." Har Har. 

So we came back after dark... and goodness--I've never seen stars like that. They were so numerous, I couldn't even make out constellations--it was like I was looking at galaxies layered over each other. We just lay on the cold concrete benches in the lookout area looking up at the sky, holding hands, and marveling in sighs and silence and occasional exclamations. 

Pic: A and me under the soar of Landscape Arch. 

*Let me note that I always have to say this word in my head before I say it out loud. My mom's name is "Manorama" so I'm prone to mispronouncing "Panorama" to rhyme with mom's name. #LaterPost 10/9.

delicate like silly goose

Our hotel is right on a bend of the Colorado River, and it’s such a treat to see the water from our windows. I started the day with some leisurely yoga. We got breakfast in Moab and gifts for the kids (it’s always socks/tees plus a stuffie for Nu and a snowglobe for At as they have collections from their toddler travel days + treats for Scout/Huck/Max if there’s something special).

Then it was time to head for our reserved timed entry at Arches, and we did two amazing hikes: Delicate Arch and Park Avenue.

Delicate Arch is of course the iconic arch that is on everything from merchandising to UT license plates. Most of the way there, I was a monkey chattering away and scampering up the arid landscape and bald rock. But then I had a bit of a panic attack at the end of the hike as I clambered onto the crest and felt the winds buffeting me. I’d have to walk down to the arch, which is perched on the lip of a hollow, and I started imagining myself tripping or being blown hundreds of feet into the depths of the hollow. (I mean, the plaque did say people die on this hike every year—and it didn’t specify how.) And then someone's water bottle slipped from their grasp and fell into the hollow and I could see what a fall might look like in sickening detail. 

But... I really wanted to stand under the arch. Big A was fine with not standing under the arch if I didn't want to but was ready to help me get there if I wanted to do that (He really is a perfect hiking partner!). After a few minutes of sitting on the warm rock, I took courage from all the other people doing it, and we made it... very slowly (and probably comically). 

Pic: Big A and me under Delicate Arch. LOL at me clutching Big A in fear and leaning into him. I did warn the kind stranger who took this photo that I was going to be very slow getting into position. I like to think I'm delicate like a bomb, not a flower--but this time I was just a silly goose. #LaterPost 10/9.

Mars-scape

We took off early in the morning for a long day of travel. Two stops in Colorado (Denver, Grand Junction), and then we picked up a rental car to drive into Utah.

I started ooh-ing and aah-ing from the plane because the landscapes were so wild, rocky, and red—it was a bit like being on Mars.

(We found out early that the rental car we’d been “upgraded” was a big PITA—it was cool to climb into it via a running board the first time. But after that, every time I got into it, I felt a bit dirty—like I was going out to colonize some part of the world. It was way too big for just us and our backpacks and ALSO really difficult to find parking for it or to back out of parking for that matter. I immediately ceded all responsibility for driving to Big A for the rest of the trip.)

Our hotel suite was practically at the entry to Arches, so we took a quick trip through the park; I took hundreds of pictures and not even one came close to representing the breathtaking beauty and scale of what was before my eyes. We found some (Boss Day) dinner at the food truck court and then watched Will and Harper. We were tired and fell asleep at different times during this sweet documentary and had to fill each other in the next day as we hiked. Maybe we’ll watch it with the kids sometime? Half the movies on our family list of rewatches feature Will Ferrell, who AFAIK, is an international treasure. 

Pic: One of the many massive red cliffs inside Arches National Park. One of the hundreds of pix I took. #LaterPost 10/9.

a reflective break

We're on Fall Break, and I'll be back around Tuesday.

Pic: The Red Cedar from the walking bridge. Doesn't the sky seem bluer in the water?

 

comments and connections

Because of Nance's exhortation to vote hard for Langston Hughes, I found the work of Bruce Weigl through her comments. Here's his amazing and timely poem Autumn Leaves.

In other news, the Gaza course, which was supposed to start yesterday has been postponed to next week. StephLove had voiced concerns about internet connectivity in Gaza when I first mentioned it--and that's one of the reasons.  I hope they are able to resolve that issue. I also hope they're able to give me a little bit of a heads-up about which course I'll be teaching, so I can prep classes ahead of time.

I was so amused that Baby Engie's go-to fib for her hand injury in high school was apparently to claim it happened in a bar fight, according to a comment yesterday. While I didn't get into a fight, our team (Big A, me, + our friends SD and AH) handily (heh) won first prize at our local bar trivia (25$$$$$$), which we promptly used for our pizza and drinks.

Pic: We are the champions! Pictured here with our prize gift card before we spent it.