sleepover

Paul Farmer, a personal and global hero, passed away today. It seems a bit precipitate at just 62... Many of my early conversations with people who are now lifelong friends and colleagues started with discussions of his work and vision. I wish we would honor his life by doing away with the IPRs preventing us from vaccinating the whole world against Covid immediately. 

In happier home news: Nu had invited a friend over for a sleepover this evening. Yet this isn't about them.  Nu and their friend claimed the rumpus room and puppies, so Big A and I decamped to the guest room--which has a huge TV unlike our bedroom--with our pizza and pop to hang out.

And then we kept calling it our "own sleepover."

Although, you know, we're married and all. We took turns checking on the comfort and safety of the original sleepover kids, watched two whole movies, did some puzzles, and then finally went to sleep (in our regular bedroom) around 2 am. We really miss each other when he's off at work. 

meandering things

Nu claimed they didn't want to go to UU today although there was going to be a welcome back bonfire for all the Rel. Ed. kids after the omicron hiatus. But I managed to coax them to come with me...

When I took a break from ushering to go check on them, they were in the middle of a snowball fight. [I love how all the too-cool teens look like little kids in this picture.] It's a bit of a dilemma between encouraging autonomy and overcoming inertia every time the 14-year-old doesn't want to do something that I think they will enjoy or would be good for their general well being.

I was hanging out with Big A (and hence) watching the NBA all-star game and was surprised how much the glimpses of Vanessa Bryant and Magic Johnson moved me and reminded me how life can change in an instant. [All these deep thoughts probably because I wasn't really following the game.] Then I made Big A laugh when I wondered aloud if Colin Kapernick could play basketball.  I mean he deserves a more progressive league than the NFL. And... I just looked it up on the internet and it turns out that he's pretty good at basketball, actually.

still winter

These frosty guys! 

Some mix of of bunny rabbit/Yoda/puppy/lion cub. The way they race to be the first to jump on me when I show up makes me feel like the most loved mama in the whole world.

More snow today. Nu had school canceled for a snow day yesterday, which made their four-day Presidents' Day weekend a five-day one! 

If it weren't for the pandemic, it would have been a good time to take off on a small adventure by ourselves. As it is, Nu has some extra hangout time with friends.

I'm ready for Spring, but I'm glad my babies are enjoying the winter that's still here. Huh, it looks like they're predicting a "reverse spring" for us this year.

on to the weekend

I'll be sorry to finish this kaleidoscope of a book tonight/tomorrow. 

Three different fin de siècles, three sets of American characters who may or may not be connected, so many threads to pull and reincarnations and alternative narratives to ponder. [Something I noticed and may want to build on for a paper/lesson is the way race--with all of its messy margins--is noted. I particularly appreciated how it carefully mentioned when a character was white instead of assuming that everyone was white unless characterized otherwise.]

So yes--very preoccupied with reading at the moment. But also got a ton of student work, a women's month meeting, and misc. followup done. Not much sabbatical work to report, but: Nu got into the AP World History class they wanted; I fell asleep on the massage table and woke up feeling heavenly; it's the puppies' Boss Day so there're strips of turkey bacon in the microwave; At stopped by to pick up some mail and we got in some hugs; and Big A is ordering in Sushi for our dinner. 

in which we all learn

The chickens Nu and L got have begun to lay eggs, or so I hear. 

Nu: [Scrubbing chicken eggs in the kitchen sink.]
Me: Those look muddy, did your chickens lay them in the dirt?
Nu: [Looks blankly at me] It's poopy, Mom!
Me: Wait! The eggs come out of their poop hole?!
Big A: [To me] Yes, Puppy! Chickens just have the one cloaca.
Nu: Oh! That's how you say it? I thought it was "cluck-a."
Me: I didn't know any of this.
Big A: I'm still learning new things about you.
Fin.

(before my parents' arranged marriage)

When my mom was trying hard to be my best friend

(so I too would share, so I wouldn't decide to die)
she once told me how in the late sixties
she'd take the 21 bus from her college
to go "flirt" at the university library

Heading home meant rules and four younger siblings 

(and college was only to make her marriage worthy)
so she'd stay back to read trashy novels 
knowing dudes were watching her 
from neighboring desks

I feel a flicker for mom in her carefully pressed saris

(pressed under her mattress if she missed the dhobi)  
knowing she'd never be allowed to work
using the few years she had

for freedom, for fun

she told me she never looked directly at any of them
(I mean, that would be to risk a bad reputation) 

but there was one bespectacled dude
who seemed a very serious type

she didn't know his name

graduation results went up, and he asked how she did 
(she was too taken by surprise to counterfeit, so)

she told him she got a third class--i.e. a "C"
he turned on his heel--and she laughs-- 
she never saw him again

where it hurts

This part of my hip, which is hurt, is also the exact spot Scout likes to rest his fuzzy chin on--it's just the perfect gentle pressure.

I earned this afternoon+evening reading To Paradise, drinking cinnamon tea, eating chocolate, the puppies in my lap/on my legs. Big A is at work, I dropped Nu off to visit a friend, and I worked like a fiend yesterday.

I'm coming to the end of the day with deep satisfaction, apparently some days it takes very little to get there.
 

don't look now, I'm changing

I know I'm in the minority here, but I LOVE Facebook. Not the corporation--just the community. 

With family, friends, colleagues, and loves on every continent it's the best way I have to keep in touch with what's going on in people's lives. There are a few chat and text groups that are active all day long (family, cousins, kids), but Facebook is great at filling the gaps in between actual conversations with lots of other people. I can think of so many great ongoing friendships over the last two decades that started as online interactions.

Anyway... I do wish ole FB would let me change my profile pic without making a big production of it. No matter how stealthily I update my picture (the previous one was masked and I was tired of it and the pandemic), the change goes out to other people's timelines. I *cringe* to think that people think I *want* them to notice my new picture or that I *want* them to make soothing comments about aging and all that. I don't mind when the love is for my awesome graduate or my awesome babies, though.

a smiley one

Today went better than I imagined. 

Big A was back--we hung out and hung out and hung out and then hammered out some details on our book project; At dropped by unexpectedly to pick up some mail and give Nu a teddy bear from the Sinn Fein store; the three painkillers the vet gave Scout have put him in a happier--and loopier--mood; I got Nu's prescription filled easily and the somewhat transphobic pharmacist didn't give me the runaround this time.

Best of all, I wasn't expecting to have the whole fam together at the dinner table tonight, but it happened! (Although Scout decided to sit at my feet instead of with everyone else.)  So I took a pic for my mom (and me!). 

to feeling better

I wrote: "Time is terrifying" 

later remembering: *kaal--time 

--is one of many names for death

and also just as ordinary as life is

Pointless: the closings, returnings,

emptying into tunnels to spotlight

our origins and pain... this sad sad

diorama of what we never asked for

I am asking for Scout to feel better--

I mean, look--suffering is overrated

really--like anything could make this 

best-est of all friends a better being

________

Pic: I got Scout a new bed so he'd be comfortable when I wasn't around to give him an "uppy" to the couch, but Huck (who can jump up onto every piece of furniture in the house) claimed it first. 

*In Hindi and Sanskrit kaal means time/epoch but can also be another name for the God of Death. I may have been thinking of that subconsciously in the last line of yesterday's entry.

the lovey

One of my favorite pictures of Scout as a puppy: hugging his lovey and watching for the water vole to swim past in the old house. He would get so excited when he saw water voles or bunnies that he'd sit down like he couldn't bear the weight of his surprise. Scout was always the sweetest of my babies.

Anyway long neuro appt today for Scout (from 11 am to nearly 4 pm) and they found some things but are going to pass us on to the ortho dept. They weren't letting anyone but patients in, but I was so anxious that I couldn't understand them on the phone--it was like I lost my capacity for language. So they brought me into a tiny exam room and went over everything with me again. 

I remember pointing out his weakness and everyone trying to convince me that I was imagining it. No one thinks I'm imagining it anymore, it's that obvious.

Time is terrifying sometimes.

red boots

Do Big A and I have matching boots? No--but both our boots do look very red in this picture. 🥰 We walked downtown by ourselves for some fresh air and alone time, got breakfast burritos and coffee, and walked them back to the grandparents' place for brunch. Then we got some final hugs in, put the human kid and the puppy kids in the backseat, and piled back into the car for the trip home. We got back before sunset, unpacked, scrounged up some dinner, and spent a nice and unhurried evening together.

But... I have the biggest case of the 'Sunday Scaries'--anxiety's just shooting up, up, up...  I do have a list of consultations and meetings to accomplish tomorrow, but it's all very do-able. I've prepped and done everything I can, and have been reading compulsively to pass the weekend.

day tripping

An early morning traipse and it's off to Yellow Springs with the fam for a quick trip.

I'm going to have a nice visit with the in-laws without worrying about the list of conference-related stuff I have I've noted on my to-do list (register for my SALA presentation; book a hotel for the student honorary; plan out sessions for Michigan Academy; and solicit papers for NWSA). It's the weekend, and Monday will be here soon enough.

I always thought Nu listened to ABBA because of me/Mamma Mia!, but it turns out that my gay kid loves ABBA, and that playing ABBA Gold will get us halfway to Ohio. 

Boss Day*

It has been a long and busy week, but it's my "Boss Day" (*translation below) today and I knew things were looking up when I saw this "baby rainbow" in the grey sky at the end of my cold ass walk with L this morning. 

I had a massage with R, my lovely gender-fluid masseuse; some Christmas gift cards to spend; and got some tasty treats (milk chocolate pistachios). 

At showed up for dinner, and I got to play Hot Ones at dinner with the fam. The best part was doing a 15-minute Tai Chi session before At left (with Nu, Big A, and the puppies sort of joining us from assorted places around the rumpus room).

Also: I got Wordle in two. 

__________________________________

*Boss Day must be the best thing I ever made up: we celebrate everyone's "birthday" every month. My birthday is on March 4th, so it's my Boss Day on the 4th of every month--At is on the 2nd, Nu the 11th, Scout and Huck the 18th, Big A the 23rd, and so on. I get the "Boss Baby" a small present (usually a book and some treats) and they get to pick dinner (home/restaurant) and a family activity (show/game). It makes for a nice mini celebration every week. We celebrate the puppies on the same day, because it was too confusing for them if only one of them got special treats. I thought I'd link to a few Boss Day posts, but there were too many when I searched "Boss Day."

practicing panic

for my head is full of sound

loose in its orbit

like a character in a cartoon

I refuse to choose

perhaps the moon will rise 

out of my chest

into skies of hope-rage-love

bigger than loss

yet for now I'm just watching 

alert from afar

feeling like a new  w o u n d

waiting to scar

________________________________

Pic: So the storm came and the snow stayed. I took this picture from bed this morning, cozy in the knowledge that Nu's school had already declared today a snow day.

full

 

I feel Huckie's tail blur and Scout's blissed-out face... BS and CL came to dinner, Big A was back...

Table, tummies, and hearts full.

Grateful to be ending January on this note.

keeping it real

Nu has been watching a show called Arcane (based off of the League of Legends video game) this weekend, and although I've been assiduously working on the chapter due to the editors tomorrow, I must have imbibed a sufficient amount of it. 

I came out of an absolutely horrifying dream this morning in which I was on an escaping spaceship with a ton of children I'd never seen before... and my mom. The children were being taken to a safer place and I was there as some kind of consultant? (Not sure). In any case, I was supposed to be there, but my mom had just stowed away, and I was trying to shield her from the guards. I remember asking her to sit on a bench alongside the children, but she stuck out so she had to sit on the floor and try to be unnoticeable. I was going to pretend to the guards that she was there to take care of the kids, and worrying about saying that out loud, because my mom is quite elitist and would hate that role. And then my irritation with her elitism became this horrible disloyal question: why did I pick my mom and not my kids/dad/spouse? Poor mom!!

In real mom news, she seems to be recovering from her Covid... albeit slowly.

Pic is from this morning's tromp in the woods with L and Nu. I kept wishing the sun would show, but that didn't happen. We did get to see our favorite tree, though. Lots of weekend chores, reading, writing, homework, leftovers for dinner, and tai-chi (from a Mirror teacher) to round out the weekend. 

up close and personal

Here we are up close and personal with Huckleberry! (Like a typical younger sib, I guess she didn't like that Scout got a post to himself yesterday.) Huckie can leap five feet in the air any time she hears the treat jar, and likes to make sure there's never more than 5 cm between her and the nearest human. 

Big A is away at work. I miss him and really dislike our new normal. I'm sure I'm going to be writing poems like a teenager soon. Ha.

CF came over for dinner and to keep us company. I pulled out a vegetarian shepherd's pie I'd frozen last month, because CF is a cozy, comfortable friend like that. I made a bean soup too, because it felt like a soup night. And then I saved the brown bananas by making almond flour muffins with blueberries and raspberries. Problem is, I don't like bananas--and now I'm hoping other people will eat them. Puppies really seem to like it! So dinner was fun, and then we watched a show and checked in and gossiped on the side while Nu was occupied.

I was supposed to be at work for an admissions event early this morning, but Bluey the car hadn't charged (and Big A was away, so no backup car), and I had to start the day with a sheepish phone call to the coordinator. Apart from that, today was alright.

Scout update

Doesn't Scout look like Einstein in that one wacky picture? I gave him an "uppy" to the couch and he snuggled up and made working on my chapter so much easier. 

Moments like this can make me forget how his hind legs aren't working and even wagging his tail is increasingly difficult for him. I'm proud of how this baby has found ways to move--scooting, sliding, stretching--to overcome his mobility issues. And I miss all the things he used to do--join me when I lit the pooja lamps, greet everyone at the door, etc., etc., etc... this list is really long. But I'm grateful for all he can still do--he has the kindest eyes and best snuggles always.

I'm also grateful that the neuro appointment we made last year, which seemed ages away--is now around the corner of next week.

assisted living

grass and sky haven't have heard yet 

and I let the unknown speak for me

tricky forests spring up like questions

I will keep seeking a story I read as a kid

with its sad embrace of a torn telegram 

whose yellow moths follow me forever 

even the temporary kingdom of my trust

where lie grave jokes of literature and life 

about what could have been... has been

O I say--we are such strange creatures

I hear about chimp haven; feel a relief 

for beloved elders finding assisted living

Friends, the only breath in cages is death 

maybe we use shards and shadows to knit 

soft shelters to lay over this thing called life?

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Related/Random BOC

* I read a story when I was 9/10--I think of it as my first grownup story--about a man who tears up a telegram bearing bad news about his wife and baby in order to pretend to his fellow train passengers that all is well. The story sat between Hawthorne ("Young Goodman Brown") and Thurber ("The Catbird Seat") in an anthology of great American short stories (likely someone's discarded textbook), but I don't know the title or author despite a great number of patchy google searches.

* I couldn't get through to mom or sis on the phone today and was panicked enough to ask my cousin to check on them... turns out his wife, daughter, and mom are also down with the virus.

* The pulmonologist thinks my mom will be ok and back to normal in a couple of weeks.

* The story about the NIH chimps going to Chimp Haven was from my commute to work this morning.

* And there was a planning meeting for the conference in Minneapolis--so I was hearing Prince too, I guess.