to protect my kids
a sort of post-it
for peace
people you meet
in the street
if the kids are looking
they should pick up
how the past is
in pieces
where you happen to be
in me your home
(Written out like that it sounds a bit odd. I often wonder if Big A and I are perfect for each other or atrocious for each other... we so rarely try to talk each other out of our (no doubt sometimes bad) ideas... we're really like some dumb Pisces-Scorpio astrology writeup come to life.)
In other news, my application to teach an eight-week online course for students in Gaza has been accepted! Also: our idealistic (and now, sadly, outgoing) college president has started up a prison education initiative, and I'll get a chance to teach in a local prison again (I did something like this long ago in grad school). I am so happy to be participating in both of these programs. I mean, I wish there wasn't an ongoing epistemicide in Gaza and that we didn't have a carceral state stateside, but those things are happening anyway, and now I get to help out in a role I love.
Pic: I learned how to stop my phone from using its automatic flash, and got an okay picture of the moon! I learned today is a supermoon...
Pictures of me passed out with puppies on top aren't new... but this one with Max in the crook of my knees reminded me so much of the last one Big A took before we knew Scout was sick... mostly because of the way *I* am sleeping so furiously.
Noam Chomsky (in his pre-political activist 1950s avatar as a serious linguist) constructed a sentence I've always loved. He gives us "Colorless green ideas sleep furiously" as an example of an utterance that makes sense grammatically but is semantically nonsensical. Really? I think I might be a colorless green idea... I sleep so furiously!
In other news, Nu seems recovered from their cold and has really been riding their new name high. It seems they're exempt from all chores and duties and get to pick dinner every day this week? "It's a once in a lifetime occasion," I was told cheerfully :). Fair enough. Also, we gave Nu presents yesterday--it's a birth-day, kinda? And we got to thinking how we don't give babies presents when they're born--it's more like here's a fresh diaper, if you make it to a year, we'll throw you a party then... Rude!
It was such a relief to have everything go so smoothly, and it was such a blessing to have the entire experience with our courts--from the filing clerk all the way to the judge--be so respectful, supportive, and affirming.
The judge took the time to compliment Nu, find out how to correctly pronounce their Sanskrit name, remark upon their smile... They also exempted us from having to publish the name change and sealed the documents as a measure of protection and support for an underage child living out their authentic life. I am so grateful for these kindnesses--I know too many parents from states like Texas and Florida who basically have had to flee as their kids were in danger from the anti-trans laws that have gone into effect over the last couple of years. I wish our experience were more universal.
Nu was sick today and stayed home from school. I kept them fortified with gingery lemon soup, honey tea, and banana muffins (the last item by request). We'll celebrate with a proper celebratory dinner and cake (with our At!) on Wednesday.
Pic: Nu with Big A at our Zoom court hearing.
1) It's no mystery that I love Jennifer Finney Boylan, I've basically fangirled since I met her in 2011. I don't know though, why I waited so long to read her collab with Jodi Picoult--Mad Honey. For the last couple of days I've been waiting to finish all my million persnickety multiplying duties so I could sit down with my book. Just finished it today, and there were so many parts that brought me to tears and so many twists I didn't see coming and so many parts I just had to reread. It was so good.
2) I was in a mad panic yesterday because I had written up a paper proposal about the Jhumpa Lahiri collection, Roman Stories, but couldn't find it in my email or the Google doc I'd been working on with some colleagues on another proposal. I finally found the huffy title I'd used ("Tell Me Where it Hurts: Ailment and Alienation in Jhumpa Lahiri’s Roman Stories"), by using Google History, and after over an hour of searching every doc I had opened in March, I finally found the notes I made. Back to the drawing board, I guess.
3) I got brave today and went looking for the snake I saw three weeks ago. I wore long boots, made a lot of noise, and was on high alert. But Mx. Slithers seems to have disappeared just as mysteriously as they appeared. I'd read that snakes don't like strong smells, so I took some old packets of curry powder and scattered them in that part of the garden, hoping to scare them away forever.
4) Pic: Huck, Max, Big A, and I out on our post-dinner walk... It's a mystery why our fluffy doodles think they can take on our neighbor's muscular German Shepherd, but they always do their version of trash talk as we pass.
PJ's pic was both a reality check and a metaphor for today--I just had to disengage from some tasks to focus on other more pressing ones. This has been a week of missed appointments and misunderstandings but luckily the work week is at an end and I get to rest, reset, and restore my settings.
2) I read yesterday's comments, and I'm so touched by the concern and... a bit freaked out that I don't seem to be responding appropriately? It's not that I'm fearless--I was a proper ninny when there was that active shooter on the MSU campus in 2023. So maybe I'm just foolish or foolhardy from not recognizing the danger I was in? For whatever reason, this closer encounter with a gun seems not to have registered in my consciousness at all. And even as it was happening, I was translating it into an absurd dinner party story.
3) And I completely missed today's presidential debate. I doubt I missed anything significant. I heard on the news that 30% of people polled said they were waiting to decide whom to vote for based on today's debate performance--I cannot fathom what they could learn that hasn't already been repeatedly demonstrated.
Pic: Young the Giant in concert at Pineknob Theater.
Max is a goofball whereas Scout was a sentimental intellectual-savant, but they do look a lot alike and have some very similar habits. Like Scout, Max loves to be with me when I light the oil lamps in the evening, and sighs the same way Scout did when he settles himself for a nap across my legs, he even plays catch in the same silly way.
Every morning when we wake up, the first thing Max and I do is go out to the corner where we made a Scout memorial. I ring the wind chimes, while Max (less sentimentally) pees. The other day I was playing catch with Max and he came around the corner just as Scout used to and as I mussed his ears and face, the solar lantern flickered awake although it was not at all close to darkness. It truly felt like Scout was laughing in the moment alongside us.
*
I woke up from an intense dream last night in which my dad was asking why I hadn't placed a "pottu" on him. For the most part, this is a benign request--you'd place a pottu (the vermillion mark) as a blessing; I put one on myself every time I leave the house, or on the kids when they join me in meditation. But in Tamil slang, "putting a pottu on someone" can signify they have passed away and you're paying your respects to their portrait by putting a pottu on it. So obviously, I woke up dreading the day. Thankfully, it turns out I have no prophetic qualities, and the day passed uneventfully.
*
We had our annual Ganesha seek-and-find today (postponed from Friday). The kids found all 32 Ganeshas, showered them with rosewater, anointed them with turmeric and vermillion, and decorated them with flowers. I translated some Sanskrit slokas for them to enjoy, and they insisted on singing "Happy Birthday" in English as well. They heard about our adventure from yesterday, had so many follow-up questions, and were suitably celebratory not to wake up as orphans today.
Pic: The fam at brunch... Big A, Max, At, and Nu with Huckie underfoot. (I'm trying so hard to ignore the giant pile of napkins waiting to be folded behind A.)We'll be telling this story at dinner parties forever.
Big A and I were on our usual walk to Sparty through the MSU campus when a car careened around the bend and barely screeched to a halt at the stop sign. There were a lot of student-pedestrians around and I have a big mouth on me, so I yelled out, "Slow down!" I guess someone in the car had a big mouth too, because they yelled out, "Boo, Bitch!" This upset Big A who took off running after their car, and they sped off.
Except they looped around and screeched to a halt next to us again. And three of them (two of them sans shirts) got out of the car. As they got closer: Big A asked for an apology; I told them they were going to hurt someone if they didn't slow down; they accused us of looking at them (which we had been). Then the older guy in his twenties said he was going to get his gun, and... reached between the car seats, got his gun, and tucked it into the waistband of his shorts. I thought I was going to burst into giggles at that point, because this very white guy with a gun kept advancing on Big A, liberally using the N-word, and telling him to get "stepping to it." And then everyone was just staring at each other--we didn't want to get shot, and they didn't want to shoot us, I guess? We told them it wasn't right, I threw in a final instruction to slow down for good measure, we said we were walking away, and so we did.
They took off in the opposite direction... but then they looped around again and pulled up about ten feet ahead of us. That's when I pulled out my phone and called 911. And they took off again, this time for real, when they saw me dialing. And we never saw them again. But we did have to wait for campus police to show up and make a formal report. And then we stayed on the lookout on our way home and snuck our way through the woods just in case their car was still around somewhere, laughing with the adrenalin of it all.
Big A is nice because, I asked, and he said that I hadn't escalated when I yelled at them to slow down--I was doing the right thing and speaking up. I am not so nice, because I told him that I didn't need my honor protected just because some rando called me a bitch, and that he should not have escalated by running after them yelling "What did you call my wife?" etc. Anyway, it was an unlooked-for Saturday adventure.
Pic: Brilliant sky, brilliant Red Cedar--the view from the bridge shortly before it all went down.I worked with my serious independent studies students and took meetings and sat on committee meetings... and yet somehow managed to miss the English department meeting (new time)! It was embarrassing, but my colleagues were very kind about it.
At the end of the day, I printed out the flyer for the book from the publisher's website and plugged my forthcoming publication to the marketing team. My voice has been hoarse for a week, and a former student at the event thought it was hilarious and kept pretending it was because I'd been partying too hard. If only.
Back home, Nu was partying hard--they were out to the football game, senior paint party, and dinner with friends, so Big A and I fed Max and Huckie and made ourselves dinner. I made a very pretty matchstick salad of peppers, carrots, cucumbers, basil, and mint as a bed for the dumplings Big A was frying up. We missed Nu, but I guess this is us on the reg from next year.
One of the girlfriends sent me a picture of the game, and Nu was in it! I shared it on family chat and claimed I had spies everywhere, but Nu was unfazed and rolled their eyes. When Nu got home at midnight, they shared a compliment they'd been hugging to themselves all day. Their English teacher had told them that they saved Nu's work to read last because it always gave them something to think about. Aw!
Pic: I took some new colleagues an "office-warming" gift. The "ribbons" are in our college's signature plaid and are actually shoelaces.
The small habits that save my Thursdays are an early morning walk with KPB around campus before classes start, a chat with my mom on my way home from work, and Subway for dinner that Big A picks up after his shift at the clinic. Also, my last class of the week is surprisingly high-energy and just so joyfully silly and good-natured. They're prone to doing things like bringing up Eminem's "The Real Slim Shady" to argue "logos" or spontaneously quizzing each other on where I went to school. I truly feel like I lucked out with this class and hope we keep this energy all semester long.
Pic: When I was 15 I started a poem with, "Every day for breakfast, I had a spoonful of sky..." It remains one of my favorite lines although it was secretly coded to refer to my E.D. This is that sky. Taken on my walk with KPB this morning.
As we walk, Big A says he would give anything to be wrong... unlearn everything... wishes he could promise me that there was heaven and I would of course be with Scout again someday. Then we got home after grabbing my Boss Day to-go order from the sushi place and then I had all my babies--Max and Huck and Nu and At around me. It wasn't quite heaven, but contentment enough.
Later in the evening, as I gathered the mint growing in wild abandon, I remembered Medo Halimy telling the world that he plants as a form of resistance. "They take away life... I bring life to earth," he said as he planted around his tent in Gaza and celebrated each sprig and sprout. This beautiful, lovable person dead at just 19, is yet another young person who has taught me so much. Whether or not I dedicate anything to him formally, his spirit and optimism will echo in my head whenever I tend to my plants.
Pic: Late evening light at the garden gate.
In the hour before I snapped this picture, I was crying into my bathwater because I felt so feeble. My throat had started to feel tight and painful last night. I'd thought it was just me getting used to using my "lecture voice" again. But Big A had wondered while we were saying goodnight on the phone if I "had the back-to-school 'rona."
I tested negative for Covid, but I felt awful anyway. But after a good cry, I felt okay enough to get dressed and show up for L. The rest of the day was blankets and books and bed. And buttered toast and scalding hot lemon water. I will survive.
Pic: The reporter setting up cameras. It was a crew of... one
I just did work that was different from what I'd been doing all week.
I took care of my zillion indoor plants, cleaned the house, baked some pretty focaccia with herbs and veggies harvested from the garden, cleared the storm debris from the driveway, planned BL's baby shower with them (end of September), celebrated AS's birthday in style, and tended to my three babies--Maxie, Huckie, and Nunie. (Have I mentioned that Nu sometimes calls Max "Maxi Pad?" Rude.)
And although my grandmother has been gone for many years, I always remember that today used to be her birthday...
Pic: The Red Cedar from the eastward bridge.
I did stay up well past midnight by accident last night, but it was just as well because I got to wish my dad in India a Happy Birthday bright and early. (It's also Chairman Fred Hampton's birthday and Mary Shelley's birthday, so he's in a very special club.) He didn't put his hearing aids in, so we didn't talk for very long though.
At the end of the first week of classes, things are going well (I think). I already know everyone's names--that's kinda my superpower so far. And the older I get, the more adorable I find my students... it was so cute when one of them made up a song to remember how to spell my name.
It's also EM's birthday and the birthday of the independent bookstore in town so I stopped to pick up some book gifts and was gifted in turn with a lovely heart-to-heart with D.D. who still ministers to my soul although she no longer works as a pastor.
Pic: My sister (with whom my parents live) sent me this pic of dad at breakfast and it made me miss my dad extra: our old hours-long conversations, his smiley face the way it was.
Students are not giving up either. They're back on campus and beginning to hold informational meetings and protests. There have already been arrests at Columbia and closer to home at the University of Michigan. In this country, student protests have always been on the right side of history from Vietnam to apartheid South Africa. There are several weeks to the election, and arresting students protesting the shredding of hapless civilians in Gaza by U.S. bombs is... a bad look. Harris-Walz will need to address that swiftly.
Pic: A couple of my co-writers and the Red Cedar through L's living room windows yesterday...
I've even had students named after Greek philosophers before, but oh--the thrill of hearing "Aristotle!" or "Chimera!...