but not yet...

It really did take them two and a half hours to fill the prescription for Big A's anti-virals at Meijer. I did the weekly grocery shop for 45 mins and would have lost my mind having to wait for the remaining time if I did not have a book on my phone (William Dalrymple's The Golden Road; recommended).

I was meant to be in Detroit poking through an art warehouse with LV who was sending me pictures of his finds from said warehouse and started to have serious FOMO. So after settling Big A in with meds and snacks and checking to see if Nu needed anything for the school's winter dance (they didn't), I took myself off to the Horrocks Farmers' Market and the thrift store. I reveled in all the growing things and got some hyacinth bulbs at the first place and found some things I plan to use as planters at the second and returned home feeling more rooted (ha).

I wish I could feel like A is doing better, but he isn't yet. Maybe tomorrow. 

Pic: Tulips... at the Farmers' Market. Not in a field, not yet... but surely Spring is on its way.

it's not novel anymore?

After weeks of  warning everyone around us to be careful out there as there were all kinds of respiratory illnesses out there in the ether/E.R., Big A has developed Covid-pneumonia. He had this weekend off and we had all kinds of plans and I'm so sad and mad about him being sick and me having to quarantine. He gets antivirals tomorrow, so hopefully he'll start feeling better. 

This is round #3 of Covid for him. 

Also, if that wasn't enough, he accidentally got stuck with a needle from a patient with Hepatitis-C as it was being disposed. That's counted as an active exposure and so he'll have to get tested and keep getting tested for a few months to make sure he doesn't develop that too. Hep-C is very serious, and the more I read about it, the the more it feels like I'm looking down an abyss.

Both these things are exposure because of his being in the E.R., of course. We joke about how his job is apocalypse-proof and he'll get paid in potatoes and eggs because he delivered people's babies or set their bones. But I'm ready for him to find another job. (Nu too, probably. They weren't happy about having to cancel the sleepover they had planned for tonight and they were going to hang out and get ready for the school dance with friends here tomorrow too.)

Pic: Everything is frozen and this morning Max and Huck decided to play right in the center of the pond we dug last year. I know I could wade in and rescue them, but I do worry about the ice cracking and dunking them into the water... 

the many faces of care

We got a new set of knives (X-mas present) that I started using yesterday. I don't know if it was their unfamiliarity or if they're just really sharp but I immediately cut my palm (very stigmata-like!). 

Big A had just headed out to run some errands but popped back in (perhaps I'd yelped/perhaps he's clairvoyant) to check on me and sure enough I needed help. 

He applied pressure and yelled for Nu to grab a bandaid, which Nu delivered and Big A then applied to my palm after the bleeding stopped. 

Big A left.

I resumed dinner prep.

And I cut myself again.

I applied pressure to the wound myself and yelled for Nu to bring me another bandaid.

Nu came back. "Here," they said putting something down on the kitchen counter. "I got you a bunch of bandaids just in case you cut yourself some more."

_________________________

Pic: I had to be at work, but this afternoon there were protests against fascism at state capitols all across the country. This one is in Lansing. Photo via SN, one of the organizers (a trusted comrade for many years now... and someone I first encountered as a student in my composition class eight years ago).

"Ladies' Liquor and Cake"

I am lucky to know JS, the wonderful poet and human, whose brainchild "Ladies' Liquor and Cake" is.

When the invitation to this "essential frivolity" came a few weeks ago, it urged: "These are desperate times and we must cut to the quick: good company (essential), cake (of course) and liquor (naturally)."

I was happy to attend. Now I'm full of good company and cake, sushi (it's my Boss Day), I made time for a yoga sesh, I'm deep into a couple of good books, and also At came by and I got a good cuddle in with the best human cuddle baby I've made! What I can control is going really well.

Outside is still a mess.

Pic: JS had a place for people to post uplifting upcoming events at "Ladies' Liquor and Cake." Her baby's name is Scout too, and that's yet another reason I like being at her place.

things I did I can be proud of

I called my political representatives about the government coup by Musk. I used 5calls.org and it's really easy as they hook you up with the relevant reps and provide a script if you want to use it.  

I tried something new... I applied to a medical  humanities conference over the weekend, and... I got accepted! I think I can use professional development funds to attend this one. (This reminds me that I ought to submit poems to journals. Some poems got picked up by anthologies last year, but I didn't actually send out any all last year. That's terrible. I shouldn't be so afraid of rejection that I never get accepted!)

I tidied my closet... and everything looks so bright and boutique-y. I catch myself going in there like a dork just to look at it. 

I got so many recommendation letters for students and support letters for colleagues done. I was talking to Big A about how I spend too much time on these when the prevailing advice is to get them done as quickly as possible. Reason #457865 to love him, he said of course it makes sense for me to do things in a way that leaves me feeling satisfied. (People depend on these things; I never feel like I can just dash them off.) 

Pic: A sord (I had to look it up) of mallards on a floe on the Red Cedar.

while the chudail puts me to bed

with witchy fingers she traces me

she doesn't say I'm here for you

she says, I'm there for her 

--to eat

                            her hunger is growing in her

                            like a child, but she hates it

                            her rage blooms instead

                            like a storm

 turning on me, she challenges: 

just who do you think I am? 

--I answer quietly to myself

"an asshole." 

*

                             Her anger is pointed, many-pointed 

                             like the sea. There are many things

                             to be angry about right now

                             so I understand

inside my body's cage she tests 

my plumpness, then lights me 

up and tells me to shine 

I'm not fine

                             I am bad and blood soaked but only 

                             on the inside... like her, another 

                            woman, I try to smile, and say

                             goodnight 

_____________________________

Note: Weirdos are all up in everyone's financial info and we have trade wars with the neighbors who sent firefighters to help with the California fires. Things are getting testy all around, and I'm trying to stay calm.

Pic: The Red Cedar River is frozen except up by the rapids; walk with Big A.

uneven thoughts in uneven times

I break the trail     with an ice pick of panic      winter is removal       after all      and carry on      as if      I don't care     I don't want anyone     to see     I care

as it grows dark        with unwritten books      the ink shrinks     into ripples     of edict after cruel edict          they've called this chaos

shock and awe     rising to the center      into centuries    the injury       piercing the moment      everything swelling    out of reach     I witness     what is made--     

--for other people      watch it      come for me      I wait      as the wind loses its way     and wake to the wound     through which     the poem comes

_______
Pic: Max dares me to chase him on the icy snow. Look at his lope, he looks so lupine! 

seeing red until

Red Note: I tried the new place all the kids are decamping to in the wake of the potential TikTok ban--just to check it out. It was kinda confusing.

Red Book: Someone said: "Did you know that RedNote actually translates into "Little Red Book" as in Mao's Little Red Book?" That does not faze me. The Little Red Book has its moments. It's not like it's something written by Kim Jong Un. C'mon. I kept thinking about that person's outrage all day, and it was a bit funny.

Red Card: An international student wondered if we should be giving other international students "red cards." At first I thought it was something to do with the Lunar new year, but it was actually about how to prepare yourself for immigration raids. I was by turns sad and angry about this one. 

Red Envelopes: At the end of the day, dinner was with EM, whom I haven't seen in weeks and it was lovely to catch up. And of course she gave my grownass kids red envelopes with money in it for new year luck. Neither A's only sibling nor mine live near by so I'm glad and grateful for all the people who treat our kids as their niblings. 

Pic: Red envelopes for Nu and At today. Happy New Year of the Snake!

even the chipmunk does what it can...

One of my favorite bits in childhood retellings of the Ramayana is when Rama is building a bridge from the peninsular tip of India to Sri Lanka to rescue his partner Sita from Ravana who has kidnapped her. He has the help of his semi divine siblings and the Vanara army under the ace engineer and architect--Nala. But he also has the help of a little chipmunk who carries pebbles in its mouth to supplement the work of the huge army. Rama is so moved by the chipmunk's altruism, that he picks it up and gently strokes its back... and that's how the chipmunk got its stripes!

But the real point is that everyone does what they can to right a wrong. In fact, in some versions of the story, the chipmunk's pebbles cement the gaps between the giant boulders and are actually crucial to the structural stability of the bridge. I am reminded of this in so many ways. Two examples stand out for me today. One is StephLove putting her body on the line by protesting near the White House at the freezing of federal grants (the freeze has since been blocked by a federal judge). The other is a student who has been using their skill sets (English and Political Science) to annotate three significant executive grants so people can read and understand them more easily. 

Heroes. All the hearts. 

Pic: Huckie and Max, who clearly haven't eaten in days at the dinner table yesterday.

time after time

Time is remarkable. I was overwhelmed on Friday and the things I had to attend to seemed immense and insurmountable. Today, not only was I able to catch up to everything, but the things themselves could be despatched with a few breezy strokes of email... or so it seemed. Perhaps I've just punted everything to the near future? Time will tell, I suppose.

Anyway, it was busy, busy, busy. And part of that is pre-planning for my biennial travel abroad course to the U.K. And it's exciting and nerve-wracking. And some parts are icky. We're currently in the ticketing process, and I get to feel like a jerk asking people for their gender "as stated on their passports" like that has anything to do with anything. 

Pic: View from the bridge--this is the Red Cedar River frozen solid--people have been skating on it as the tracks show. Big A and I walked to breakfast to celebrate yesterday's anniversary this morning since he was working yesterday. That was quite apropos, because twenty years ago, we met up at a breakfast spot, and then walked across a bridge too.

somehow tomorrow (will be the twentieth anniversary of our first date)

I would believe anything 
that started with you

I--still--do  

sure as any day climbing 

for hours then coasting 

down, on time

inside the churn of memory

time is a secret waterfall 

of it all

the soft singing at breakfasts

battles opening voices

love closing eyes 

oh, how we've danced our way 

for twenty unwritten years 

now going away

with the magic suddenness of deer 

whose hoofprints are filling 

with blowing snow

_____________________

Pic: I moved to the living room as Nu has a sleepover in the rumpus room, but Max found me for our evening cuddle. 

small bridges

the world is burning      the stars are burning

                    how can we tell 

between catastrophe          and astral beauty 

                 it is no way to live

in my mother's eyes      there was always

                a waiting, waiting

and sometimes            she was more dead 

              than she feared I was

inside night's shadow         a solid darkness

               a series of searching
in impulsive skies     and a patient earth

                    or vice versa 

in drifts of memory       and burning snow 

               grainy as television 

I am important               I am impatient               

                find hope untidy

but keep it rooted        and learn to grow it

                    hearty although 

still watermarked         by tears and time

_______________

Pic: The puddle of napping puppies around my feet... I love how their paws are all entwined. (Max's head is off camera as he's flopped off the edge of the couch. The red haze is from the red and blue lights Nu likes to have on in the rumpus room.)

"life is never just one thing"

I didn't see Big A at all today. He'd worked an overnight in Ann Arbor and I left for work an hour before dawn to make it to an 8 am meeting. By the time I got home after a late evening at work, he'd already left for work again. 

But to quote Connie Schultz, "Life is never just one thing;" other than that, it was a lovely day. 

We inducted new members to the English honorary and it's always such a delight to see students dressed up for the occasion and meet their families. I mean... you think you see your students grow in the classroom and love their work and the people they are and then you meet their families and it's a whole new level of understanding how much they're cherished, seeing the wonder their grownups have about these humans they have made in one way or another. It's kind of transcendent. 

Also, somehow I was going to place an order with the catering company and then decided to do it myself and found myself after classes at MacCurdy (the feminist house I advise) borrowing their oven to heat up trays of hors d'oeuvres. And also, I have the best colleagues... ok, the best women colleagues--who seamlessly did everything from setup to clear-up. The whole evening was busy and bright and social and fun--all the stuff I adore. 

And then when I came home I was so tired I couldn't even bear the sound of the loud TV show Nu (who had no school today and has no school tomorrow because of our frigid temps) had on. I just wanted to sit with my arms around my babies for while. Then Nu went to bed, I FaceTimed my sister for her birthday (it's already her birthday in India!), and then snuggled up to read with Max and Huck.

Pic: This treat of lovely words and signature shortbread was waiting for me after my first class today. I did work hard today, but this wasn't about that. It's from a lovely and private colleague in another department and says way more about their wonderfulness than anything it might imply about me.

"practice the art of resilience"

Many things did not go according to plan today--I got behind on a couple of tasks, my massage therapist canceled, I broke one of my favorite dishes as I was readying dinner, I burnt two parathas and also my hand, I accidentally heard a few snippets of news about the inauguration, and was surprised and saddened by news that Cecile Richards had died (that's when I lost focus and burned my hand, actually)...

But the title of this article played in my head like a mantra: "With their lives upended, they practiced the art of resilience." It's a story about a new exhibition at the Smithsonian featuring the work of three Japanese-American artists, two of whom had been incarcerated in internment camps during World War II. One of them, Miné Okubo, later wrote the book Citizen 13660 about her life in the camps--Big A's grandfather, Harold, was instrumental in getting that book published as she notes in the introduction. 

We'd been talking about taking a trip to D.C. to see the exhibition yesterday because of this connection... But also, I'll take every reminder of people going through terrible times and making it out to the other side. 

Pic: Nu showing me which kid they resemble on one of our treasured Miné Okubos--She gave Big A's grandparents a few of her paintings as gifts over the years they stayed in touch.

on the eve of an orange apocalypse

I've decided to pay the inauguration no attention. In my book, it's Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Day--I will be observing events related to that. I feel flags should still be at half-staff in honor of Jimmy Carter's death. 

Like Robert Reich, who has lived through McCarthy and Nixon, I too want to acknowledge that tomorrow might be a terrible day, and I too believe that our resilience and decency will get us through. 

Connie Schultz on perhaps her last visit to Sherrod Brown's D.C. office today noted, "So much change coming for our country. But I heard our grandchildren’s laughter nearby and felt the hope in that. Life is never one thing." Life is never one thing. Yes, that's true as well.

Tomorrow, I have a ton of work to get through and MLK Day events to attend. I'm meeting a friend for tea. I have a massage scheduled. At is coming to family dinner; I'm making a family favorite--egg paratha rolls. Look how inconsequential 47 is to all of these good things. Instead of responding to the circus (that way lies madness and despair), my focus is going to be on building up community and solidarity outside the system. Soon enough it will be midterms with a chance to make governmental change.

Pic: L's picture from Saturday's Lansing Women's March in protest against the incoming administration. I had an admissions event at work and couldn't go, so L sent me pictures to show me what I missed. There are so many people who are working so hard on our side.

it's her birthday, and I don't want her to cry (or even want to)

My sister's birthday is coming up next week and I'm so excited for her to see my present: it's a pair of  necklaces--one with her name in Greek as a memento of our trip together last year and another with her name in hieroglyphics looking forward to our proposed trip to Egypt in a few years. 

But today I woke up to a text she'd sent me (just me, not on family chat) that her job seemed to be in jeopardy. She's already started looking, but she's at the very top (the next level is CEO) and thinks there aren't any openings. This makes me very worried for her (she loves what she does) and how it will affect her dynamic with her partner (I'm not a fan). And also, our parents are on her health insurance (it always boggles my mind that parents aren't considered family enough to be on your health insurance in the U.S.) etc. I'll certainly have to step up in many more ways if my sister's job disappears. 

Also, what terrible timing! It's her birthday on Wednesday! I know corporations don't know or care that it's your birthday, but it doesn't keep my sadness or outrage away. 

Pic: Today was another super long day, and it's still cold, with more snow on the way--but when I went out with Max and Huck after a few hours of work, the sun was coming up. I pulled my shoulders away from my ears, and pressed reset on the day. 

tipping our hats

Today, Nu was remembering a baby book called Go, Dog, Go! much of whose plotline (if we remember right) consists of one dog asking another if they liked their hat to which the other dog replies they do not like their hat. (So many hats, Engie!). 

We were discussing if this was (a) radical and friendly honesty--the second dog not liking the first one's hat did not cause any bad feelings or (b) negging--with the second dog keeping the first one on their toes so they would keep coming back. It occurred to me at that point that Nu had always been such a good liberal arts classroom discussant. And I'm so happy to say that Nu got into the college they wanted over the holidays. Given their first two rocky years of high school, this was not at all a given. But they've managed to overcome a lot of those early impediments (complicated no doubt by the pandemic and pandemic schooling) and even got a persuasive college essay out of it. Hopes and prayers for my Nu.

Speaking of things evolving to reach maturity, I remember taking At and a baby Nu to a conference on the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child (UNCRC) in New York because I didn't have childcare. We had to leave early because, unlike At who as a baby loved going to classes and conferences (or at least was calm when I went), Baby Nu was having none of it. (There was an embarrassing moment where Nu arched their back and slipped straight out of the baby carrier--while I was on stage. It's a wonder I wasn't reported to the U.N.) Anyway, that conference attendance evolved into an idea, then a paper, and now is a book chapter that's coming out later this year; I'm Chapter 12.

Pic: The Portage River in the falling snow. I haven't been outside much in this somewhat breathless week, so this is still from the weekend's hike.

Pongal Sonnet

I've come such a long way

... north  I   now  celebrate 

this  Pongal  in  the   snow 

all  of  us  have  journeys 

I   suppose, we're all  from 

somewhere else as we know

like daffodils, not even Hindu 

still, here they are, little suns

intimate on the offering plate 

with the shakarapongal where

they  relate a welcome  flight

through pressure, sludge, ice--  

bright in the salute and shatter 

of our  planet's  feral sunlight

___________________

Pic: Late evening Pongal offering with Nu, Huck and Max. I took a picture to share with At who couldn't make it to pooja... Huck is dancing! 

Bhogi today; Pongal tomorrow

Tomorrow is Pongal, the start of the auspicious Tamil month Thuy, and I always think of it as a handy reset for any lagging New Year resolutions. There's also actual Tamil New Year in April; lucky us. 

I'll have a long teaching day tomorrow, so I prepped some of the festival food today. This way I'll just have to make the sweet pongal for the pooja and the dosas for the celebration dinner. Today is Bhogi--traditionally, we're supposed to have a big bonfire to burn all the stuff we're discarding. As usual, I did the easier, sustainable thing and donated all the stuff we'd culled.

Pic: I really love my photo of cranes on the frozen Portage River about to take flight (from yesterday's hike).

(Also, I'm so chuffed that I seem to be made of some seriously tough stuff--while even Big A is sore and blistered after our longest hike to date, I'm business as usual. I did sleep so soundly yesterday though. If only I could numb my weltschmerz with five hours of physical exertion every day...)

another day of distractification

Big A and I spent over five hours on the Pinckney trails hiking and trudging though the snow trying to finish our 16-mile loop before sunset/the end of daylight. Also, I thought it was the full moon tonight and had just seen a trailer for a werewolf movie, so trust me when I say there was speed in my step. (The internet tells me that the full moon is actually tomorrow and it's called the wolf moon!)

It was an exciting, exhausting day. I tired myself out. I laid some fears and sorrows and anxieties to rest (for now). Tomorrow I plan to show up for the people who are counting on me. 

Pic: In the Pinckney Woods. "The woods are lovely, dark, and deep."