My reminder

(Today's picture is from Baker Woodlot. The skinny sapling with the pink tree tag reminded me of Aunt P who would make a knot in her sari or tie something to her wrist as a reminder to complete a task she was afraid of forgetting.)

An early morning hike with B (we hit Radiology Gardens, Baker Woodlot, MSU Arboretum, the Children's Garden, AND the Horticultural Gardens) and then a ramble with L and TB (on the campus river path); EM's birthday Zoom charades party; phone dates with SD and cousin P; a long multi-person call with the Bangalore part of the family (dad's birthday is tomorrow). 

Also, monitoring student responses to online assignments online; different kinds of advising emergencies; making peace between student groups; and updating files.  

And that doesn't begin the chronicle of other weekly tasks (plants! cleaning! garden! food prep!) that have piled up.

If I'm not careful, I can see weekends becoming overcrowded and unrestful. I must find a way to coral the work stuff and spread out the housekeeping over the week.

No more sunshine

The relief of having survived the first week of classes (has there ever been a semester when 'survived' had such literal significance?) is clouded by today's relentless rain.  It means no hike with L, whom I haven't seen all week. Also, there's still a lot of catch up and online prep to accomplish before weekend mode.

As I get busy, a picture of last week's 'sunflower with three busy bees' for motivation. 

 

Got that look

I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm fine.

Feeling like everything from 2 through 12 is normal. Right?

(Full teaching day; have to talk really loudly through my mask; feel bad about having to remind students about masks sometimes; but I think we're beginning to get to know each other, yay; dropped off At's kettle bells and got a hug; went home to dinner already on the table thanks to Big A; Nu seemed to have managed the first full day of online school okay; kiddie cuddles from Nu and puppies; a binge of Indian Matchmaking with Big A; and so to bed.)

First School Day

I mean to write of pomegranates 

and roses in fairytales, how even

the pierce of your stare is a star.

You my child, have been puppies, tigers,

bees, snakes, and a praying mantis. You

say, today's animal: "sickly Victorian boy."

So pearlescent with scattered energy

stay stationed in understories of care 

and humming to the surface, beyond

yes--the press of your face on my shoulder

but holding fast like the ink-paint-print-stain 

koans growing on your arms for years. 

Today's (s)log

Yesterday's picture, and a tiny today update. 

Met all my classes; my students seem lovely! My international students patched in via video, and that went ok too. I am grieving the loss of classroom intimacy--video, masks, distancing, and having to sit in rows instead of a circle are all messy. But I get it--and I think we'll get through it. 

Got to meet At before afternoon classes to pass on some freezer staples, I and was chuffed to see he had two masks and long sleeves on. Yay! I walked him back to his house and got a "back hug" as he turned to get the stairs. Seeing At made me so happy.

My last class ended late and then I headed to a socially distant picnic at the president's house for our new MFA director. Both of them have worked really hard on the program even through the strangeness of the summer, and I was happy to celebrate with them. But the sun had set by the time I drove home--another reminder this summer is ending. Luckily, I had a long conversation with JG to keep me company in the car. 

Back home, I discovered that L had dropped off some of Nu's favorite brownies and a ton of snacks as a back-to-school treat for Nu (they start tomorrow). My Nu was already in bed, but I was told they lovvvvvvvved me when I snuck in for a goodnight kiss. And then Big A woke up, and we had a teensy dessert-date chit-chat (me with Nu's brownies, Big A with the leftovers of the Culver's from his and Nu's dinner) before he headed off to work. I'll be sleeping with Scout and Huck tonight.

On a day that refuses to end

My evenings are survivors

carrying--valiant as ants--

relics of their fallen friends.

They see me turn muddy, as I 

drink me (60% water, baby)

You'd think I am called grief.

I'm keeping an eye out for you  

yearning for you for when you 

are already inside (my head) 

First Day

Yesterday's Hawk Island hike with SS was magical. I came away with book and movie recommendations and the idea that I'm not the one who gets to decide who reads my stuff. Of course, I tell students this all the time, but I need to hear it too, sometimes.

Today was my first day back in the classroom since March. Yes, it's Sunday, but that's when the first-years start this year. My first-day jitters were keener than usual, but once back in the classroom, things settled into the usual. 

I don't think I have everyone's names yet as I usually do. Masked, even people I already know are hard to recognize; memorizing the names of new students when half their faces are out of view is going to be quite a challenge. Bless everyone who smiles with their eyes and nods in class.

Quieting

This lush, deciduous forest all around me, so vibrant-green and teeming with birdsong in the Baker Woodlot--although I'm never more than a mile from busy roads and traffic. 

My temptation to marvel at the richness of the canopy has to be balanced with the need to pay attention to my path crisscrossed with wayward roots and embedded rock. I look up for beauty, I look down for safety.

What lies ahead is revealed only in small glimpses. But...  my feet are on the path and I remember that the path has worked before. It can lead me from the cool breaths of solitude back into the warmth of messy but eager life. When I am ready.

Senior moment

Every year I keep expecting it to get easier when At heads to college. But it doesn't. It was awful that first year. And the second. And OMG, the third was a real sucker-punch.

The big difference is that At is now so like a grownup (I mean--he IS 21), and our dynamic has shifted enough that I don't have to try to hide my sadness anymore. I just embrace my old, needy mama role. 

He was dawdling over breakfast while I watered plants and I was sharing that I wasn't sad because of him leaving in the pandemic even--just sad about him leaving; how I had expected it to get easier; and who knows what next year might bring--again not because of the pandemic but because of grad school etc. and how far away THAT might be. He was so sweet, listened with empathy, and hugged me so tight--and I had myself a good (great!) cry. 

We packed his car together but then it wouldn't start. If it is possible for a face to both light up and fall at the same time, I think my face may have. But At was able to jump start it and proudly used to it reassure me of how he's a capable champion at life and then he set off for senior year.  💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

Nu and I had a sleepover in the rumpus room with Scout and Huck because, that's how we've been distracting ourselves since year one. 🤗 🤗 🤗 🤗 

Building

At what point does a row of bad days become a bad week? 

It feels like I'm busy all the time yet progress I can measure seems infinitesimal and ephemeral. 

I need the heuristic spirit of those who artfully build/balance these cairns in the Red Cedar. 

My focus and karma for now must be action not reason; the work itself, not the outcome.

Forever?

It's August and we're still having multiple daily work meetings spaced out all day. The rest of the day is building each class and syllabus manually on our new platform, Canvas. While all this counts as doing the necessary--perhaps even as accomplishing something new--I didn't get a chance to settle in to 'deep work' or dream up projects this summer.

There are days of dread about what might be in store and today was one of them. Would I worry less if there was an end in sight?

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."

24/7 Panic Snapshots

Gratuitous cute-goofy picture

I woke in panic several times last night:

Once because my mind was singing the chorus to MISSIO's "Wolves" and it was terrifying in the dark.

Once because I was imploring Mai and the macaque to run, run, run (just finished Ocean Vuong's beautiful and brutal On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous).

Once because I dreamed I had taken At and Nu clothes shopping and they were breathed on and almost touched accidentally a few times by other shoppers. (How extra stupid would this unease have been a year ago?!)

And finally, because of the reasonable, rational, familiar dread of the school year approaching and all the preparation that needs to be accomplished in the weeks that remain. It's here--July 24th... 24/7. In exactly one month we'll be welcoming students back to campus.

Here We are

I feel like I've taken this picture every summer since I discovered the lotus pond near the formal English gardens at MSU. But the early morning sunshine and a very busy bee tweak this picture into being a bit different. The flowers aren't as profuse this year (maybe because there seem to be fewer garden workers overall), but they're still a  high point of summer.

Days, weeks, months have blended into a jubilee of mindful living, serious journalling, busy work meetings every weekday, A LOT OF reading... and not enough writing. This really spoke to me yesterday: 

I figured that there was a magical sequence to daily activities and if I could just get the sequence right, the writing would follow. It was a helpless feeling: oh, no, I've got the sequence wrong. Too bad about today!

Still and all, hoping to do better tomorrow.

How can we know?

Normal is long ago in the past and faraway in the future, but today I was indoors all day with rain and meetings.

Every now and then I could hear my babies and had to trust that there were two human and two puppy kids in the tangle and that they were all kinda doing ok. 

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.

Summer is still magical

But why do so many things make me cry?

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.