"is it sad or is it good?"

I made time to watch The Goat Life on Netflix. It's on a dominant South Asian theme (immigrant laborers forced into slavery in Saudi Arabia), based on a bestselling Malayalam novel, and I wanted to be in the know. 

It's a long (I had an hour left to go when I thought I couldn't take any more) and disturbing film (the protagonist is forced to become a desert goat herder under dehumanizing conditions). If you thought it was about a G.O.A.T. life, no--it's about living with goats that bleat. 

Anyway, I was sitting around all sad and depressed after I watched the movie (by myself). Nu who came down after their shower was concerned. They listened to my recap and then asked why I was still thinking about it, "is it sad or is it good?" (They meant was the story sad or was it narrated well.) I was momentarily cheered because that's such an incisive question! I'm not sure I can answer it, though. 

Pic: Geese on the Red Cedar. I'm terrified of meeting them on the riverwalk, but they're so graceful in the water.

when you name the day

my prow is a prayer

this current is kismet

the surge, the surface

of an uneven stream

my thoughts are a fleet

treading the questions  

going in two directions

expecting new answers

I listen to many breaths

before shifting into song 

build up slips and glissades 

till they hold things whole

say you can hear me call out

even from this rough cradle

O, how the world amazes

for all its rocky embrace

________________

Pic: There were a pair of kayakers trying to get past the bumpy white water on the Red Cedar last week. One got through and the other had to rock back and forth for a long time to free themselves.

Update: The roofers are done; they're gone! Dinner at home with AK and EM, while Big A napped. I loved my friends trying to convince Nu (and all of us, really) that there are whole weeks of summer vacation left.

roofer madness

I woke up to Max and Huckie going bonkers at the crack of dawn and realized there were people moving stuff in the garden and laying down tarps. Turns out they were there to fix the roof... No one had told me they were going to be doing that today? I mean we've been fixing the roof for years at this point, so I'm happy for the work to get done, but I would have appreciated a heads-up.

Mosquitoes seemed to be eating them alive, so I went to fetch them some bug spray... and by the time I came back with it, one of those huge dumpsters had been dropped off right in front of the garage, effectively cutting us off from using our cars for the rest of the day. (It was one of those dumpsters that needs a tow truck to move it.) I immediately canceled our appointments (Nu's Derm, pest control, and a volunteer intake). I hoped that being housebound would make it a writing day, but it was too hard to concentrate with the constant noise. 

There's a Britney song called "Lucky" whose beginning always makes me smile ruefully. I guess we're supposed to feel sorry for the subject who is woken up in the "early morning" as it's "time for makeup." But I always find myself thinking about all the people who needed to wake up way before she did for way less pay. Anyway, that's a bit like me complaining about the roofers when they're here to help us fix the roof, and are the ones who are actually working outside despite the heat and the bugs.

Pic: A robin in a tree unfazed by our commotion.

feeling the headlines

1) There's a sense of hope in the air with Biden going bye-bye after his toddler-esque tantrum about having to leave. Even if it's only the relief that politicians can hear and respond to people's concerns. 

2) Also a great surge of energy for Harris in terms of new volunteers, campaign donations, and a record number of union endorsements. They said it couldn't be done, they said it would be disastrous. They don't know everything. 

3) Israel orders people to evacuate from Khan Younis. Evacuate to where? 

4) Sonya Massey should be alive. It is not a crime to remove boiling water from a stove. Let alone one deserving capital punishment.

5) A war criminal has landed in D.C. with literal dirty laundry.

Pic: I went to Trader Joe's; Big A went to Whole Foods (across the street). He sent me this pic (of myself) from the traffic light to let me know I was in his sights and that he would be picking me up soon. 

summer delirium

flowers breathe their ardor 

clouds nudge me closer

my body--full like fruit--

is sticky as joy 

 

it finds the wild impatience 

of my unfurled heart 

it knows what has happened:

I felt myself precious 

and know I can meet myself

at every return 

_________________________

After a week of being unable to hold a storyline in my head, I found two excellent reads. The 57 Bus was a genre I didn't even know existed--YA nonfiction. It starts with a sleeping agender teenager being set on fire, and if you told me at that point that I'd be crying for anyone else in that book, I'd not have believed you. Yesterday I started The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida (2022 Booker) as a sort of prep/procrastination before I read Brotherless Night (2024 Women's Prize), which has the same political timeframe and framework. I know Brotherless Night will be heartbreaking for what it documents and also because I witnessed how long and difficult the writing process was for VVG (SG). Anyway, The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida begins with the protagonist's experience of a post-death afterworld and gave me nightmares after having been at the hospital last week. But the writing was so layered and so, so, so good I couldn't stop. Just brilliant. 

Pic: JN shared this pic of her summer--a cocktail of butterflies, bees, flowers, blue sky, and clouds--it made me pretty buzzy.

more in boring updates

I did some more boring things today, and I thoroughly enjoyed doing them... I watered the zillion plants,  weeded (inside and outside), dug up hundreds of rocks to edge the pond, and accidentally cleaned my closet. (I couldn't find the pretty Farm Rio blouse I'd uncharacteristically paid full price for at the height of the pandemic*, and couldn't remember if I'd "filed" it with my blue/green/yellow/red blouses or with my summer blouses or my beach tops. Found it it among the blues!)

And after blowing people off and flaking on fun stuff all this week (in retrospect, I wish I had gone to the Ann Arbor Art Festival yesterday!), I finally made it out to dinner with friends. There were leftovers galore for Nu and Big A (who'd encouraged me to go), and I brought them dessert from the restaurant, and they both did just fine without me. Huck, Max, and I shared an icecream bar later, so they forgave me too.

Pic: It was my first time at Bobcat Bonnie's, a restaurant inside the cast-off dining car from an old train now parked near the stadium. It's also right next to a train track, and I was SO excited when a real train passed by our window. EM teased me for it, as a train track runs through the bottom of our backyard and I see (and hear) trains all the time. 

*I am such a sucker for anything with a bird on it.

gimme, gimme, (s)more(s)*

Holding

The chips fall 
(from where they are ranged 

on my shoulder)
but tonight I find naught but light 

I hear myself sing 
(leaning in to kiss in the pauses 

like percussion)

with happiness a parade of hope

_____________________

Pic: Nu and Big A making smores this evening. Huck and Max like marshmallows too. (Look at all the empty chairs... I always said we needed more kids!) 

Also: All we needed this week was to be home. Apparently, it was an Amazon Prime Day or something, but we needed nothing. And today, I guess there's a global tech outage that's screwing up business and travel? It's a good thing we'd already planned to stay home all day.

* This is always sung to that Britney song, "Gimme More."

outliving

friends who live out by the cemetery say

the dead do make the quietest neighbors

agreeable too--fences are barely necessary 

                        but no fences disentangle us

                        from our now and those past

                        or indeed can adjust between

                         how we thrive or just survive  

                        for the dead always stowaway

                        mixed in memory, regret, desire

                         or we're here with those dying 

                         as we may hear (only) later

life exists unceded--rain, roses, blood... have

stayed the same way. And even when dying--

still stars climb, punctuating skies for lifetimes

_____________________

Note: An accidental and untidy sonnet. From working through some big feelings, probably. Funny how there's no getting away from high school Frost and Eliot for me.

Pic: On this bright-blue-sunshiny day, I got a lovely swing-and-snooze in the new hammocks I hung up (to replace the ones we've had since before the pandemic).

all's right

Alright. So... While I won't go into too many details, the reason for Big A's hospitalization last week was because when he volunteered for Covid relief in NYC back in May 2020, he'd contracted it there. This was at the height of the pandemic and pre-vaccine--and he's had unusual heart, GI, and dermatological issues since. They seem related, but that's just a vibe at this point because treatment seems frustratingly confined to specific anatomical systems (heart/GI/derm/etc.) and not holistic in the least. 

Anyway, I had a lovely day at home--just excited to be here and even finding doing mundane stuff like laundry oddly--and deeply--satisfying.

Pic: Max and Huckie playing with Big A. It all feels right in my world.

home again, home again

This morning, even before my second cup of tea--and therefore before I was properly awake--one of the nurses said they'd probably send us home today. 

And they did! 

I am so grateful. And ridiculously excited that I'm now free to do all the ordinary things. (And also hyper-aware of how close to the edge we are--just one shoddy decision or dreadful diagnosis away from chaos.)

Pic: Not doctor's orders, nor something I was comfortable with, but Big A wanted to eat at a restaurant and I found myself unable to deny him that after everything he's been through. The kids were free, so we all headed out to Mitchell's where we had a great--and slightly gluttonous--dinner. Super healthy meals for everyone starting tomorrow. 

hanging in there/hanging by a thread: a week of random things I thought about with A in the hospital

Wednesday, July 10: Big A's healthcare team doesn't have a clear way forward, so neither do we. But I found the buttons to move his bed up and down, and that was a solid two minutes of good giggles. 

When I can't be with A, I feel more alone than I can ever remember being. Usually, even when he's away working nights, I can fire off a text, chat a bit, compare Wordle scores, joke about something, share something I dreamt. Not this time.

Thursday, July 11: We decided not to tell our elderly parents until we had something to report, but that means I've told very few people IRL, and as a consequence do not have my usual posse to help me through. A is very private and doesn't care, but it's proving super tough for me. 

The people I did tell have surrounded me with special dropoffs and cards and care and prayers and love. And I can't thank my lovely blog friends enough for the kind messages and Care Bear stares 💗. And At and Nu have been simply amazing, taking care of themselves and the puppy sibs and being so loving... they even tried extra hard on family chat.

Friday, July 12: It still feels like being insulated from "real life"--like I'm living in a bubble. There's a sense of unreality about the rest of the world--like how are people just going to the farmers' market, or the pool or walks, and binging TV, and reading novels, and other stuff? This is all stuff I usually do too--but it seems impossible and unreal just now. 

Also: I have all the time in the world, just sitting around and waiting (has any other room been so aptly named as the waiting room?). And yet, there's no time to do things I'd like to do.

Saturday, July 13: We finally have a new protocol to try that's not just emergency management of symptoms, so I'm hopeful things will improve. They have to.

Obviously, everything makes me cry, including this dancing toddler. And obviously, I've imagined the worst over and over again. In fact, I imagined it before we even got to the hospital. 

Sunday, July 14: A seems better (I hope it's not just wishful thinking).

And I catch myself thinking about all the ways life is bound to change after this: I've always thought of A as the stronger partner--I'm going to really step up now. And I wonder what this will mean for trips we've planned together... 

Monday, July 15: A *is* better. OMG. Tests confirm this, but we still have a few more days of monitoring before we're home. 

Things I want to do when we get back to a more normal. 

                       1) Teach the kids to cook. I love hearing how Steph Love's kids make amazing meals (kinda like the kids in Catherine Newman's books) and I want At and Nu to be able to do that too. We could spend all sorts of quality time together.

                      2) Make time for dance. When we went out together the last time, it was so fun to dance at the concert (was that just a couple of weeks ago?!) and I don't know why we don't do it more often. Even if it's ONE song, I want dance in my life everyday. 

                      3) Try dry needling for my shoulder pain.

                     4) Plant taller deer-resistant flowers in the garden.

I'm behind on so much and wish I had more goal-driven to-dos, but I guess escapism is key right about now. 

la-la-la-la-la

I turned into a mom-taxi today taking Nu to job interviews and Max to his vet appointment. And while I was out and about, I saw things that terrified me:

* random red and gold leaves on the ground

* all the summer stuff at Target is 50% off and they're stocking the back-to-school displays

* an email reminding me that our opening convocation is on August 21

It's still so bright and lovely out and I haven't done all the summer things and don't want to think of summer ending already. 

(Also despite the four-leaved clovers, the bad luck hits keep coming.) 

I'm going to cover my ears and go la-la-la-la for a while.

Pic: The Red Cedar under a beautiful sky yesterday.

the news... and nourishment

Heartbreaking news about Alice Munro... and tragically one reminiscent of the world she evoked in her fiction where children are betrayed and damaged by adults (plural!) who were supposed to care for and protect them. I hope Andrea Robin Skinner finds peace and experiences continued healing.

and

Unfathomably soul-crushing news from The Lancet (medical journal of record) warning that conservatively, "the true death toll in the Gaza genocide could be 186,000 or more." And that this "staggering figure amounts to 8 percent of the population of Gaza. A similar percentage of the US population would be 26 million people." I'm coping through a cocktail of hope (there has been an increase in public support for Gaza including from the French left--the surprise election winners), drugs (including OTC Ashwagandha), busy-ness (deadline after deadline), and the loving support of family and friends.

Pic: Some of my farmers' market haul from this weekend. I used the summer abundance for dinner today--ratatouille, which I served with focaccia (also from the market) and tzatziki. Our meal was already solidly Mediterranean, repping French, Italian, and Greek foods, so I cut up some Valencia oranges to add Spain to our dinner mix.

in which my mom schools me on how to use my phone

Sometimes when Nu and I are comfort-watching a show from the '90s (Friends or Dawson's Creek or Felicity--ok, the last two are mostly me), I'm amazed at how all those characters are just walking around without cellphones hoping to bump into their pals randomly and with no way to check in on people if they're late to a rendezvous. I say "they," but I did that too back then, obviously. Sometimes it seems like another lifetime! I wonder if Nu can really even imagine how it used to be. 

And I'm not even a person who uses their phone that much. I was reminded of that today when my mom made a request. She wanted me to record myself singing a handful of Thyagaraja kritis because she said she wanted to hear them right now. (It was so sweet. "I can't wait until June to hear you sing them to me again," she said.) When I told her I didn't know how to record, she gave me such specific directions starting with: "look for the "mic" symbol..." Seriously, I was so impressed. She said that she'd previously taught her aunts to make recordings when they found it difficult to type. Nu, who is of the digital-native generation, is my usual go-to person when I need to figure out something on my phone... but now I can ask my mom too.

Pic: Huck and Max keeping me company; I was putting dinner together while I practiced "Marukela Ra," one of the songs my mom had requested. This version I found is by the superb Maharajapuram Santhanam (incidentally, the grandfather of one of my school friends who's recently become a wonderful advocate and carer for the many street dogs in Chennai).

observance

no doors will open 
only borders
and they are

the preludes
to resentment

but think if only you
could be very

quiet, become 
very small you 
could slip through

to sit liminal as a god 
at the crossroads
agonize, organize
infinite as the sun...
falls down 

_________________

Note: Not much of a July 4th celebration this year. On a logistical level, LB, my usual Independence Day date is off at a wedding. Plus it was rainy, so I felt less inclined to seek out parades and outdoor concerts, and Nu and Big A like a low-key evening anyway. On a critical level, the past week of Supreme Court rulings (esp. criminalizing homeless people while giving presidents almost monarchial immunity) has shaken me. "America doesn't deserve a birthday party this year" is a theme/mood on my socials. Also: a lot of anticipatory dread and anxiety about the upcoming elections (esp. as I foresee a lot of in-fighting on the left). I wonder--and worry--about where we'll be as a nation next year this time.

Pic: A red-white-and-blue pic of Lansing fireworks SJ shared.

reading signs

if thoughts are flocks
would they be
of birds 
or sheep

when simplicity opens 
will I find it
an entrance
or interruption

_________________

Pic: A giant dragonfly perches on a lilypad. (At the two-o-clock mark.)

"Together Again"

A dear friend gave me tickets to the Janet Jackson "Together Again" show, so Big A and I went. It was a trip. (Also a trip: how much Janet Jackson there has been in my week!)

Oh, how I adored "That's the Way Love Goes" as a young 'un. It used to be a whole mood. And being at the show felt like being in the 1990s again. I could kinda see the crowd as the teenagers they were years ago. And though we're all very different (I lived on a completely different continent back then), the music gave us all a shared context.

Anyway--it was a terrific show: four costume changes, lots of medleys, updated lyrics and riffs, cool dancers... and the opening act was Nelly (he of the "It's Getting Hot in Heeeere" track so beloved by my mom)! 😂🤣

Pic: A pre-show ussie of me and Big A.

what I heard

1) "When you do coke it's not supposed to make you black out, right?" Person I'd stopped to check on in the bus shelter. They were crying and I couldn't walk past them without asking if they were ok. I didn't know the answer to their question, but I tried to see if they wanted to go to the hospital. They didn't. Ultimately, I did just walk away.

2) "Those deer out there are like good friends. They just hang out in my yard all day." Person with a huge Trump flag in their yard when I marveled at the 25 or so deer just sitting in their yard. I'd pulled up warily to ask for directions and was a bit taken aback. I don't know if I thought a Trump supporter would just randomly be shooting deer in their backyard or what.

3) *zombie noises* This was Nu after dinner. Max seemed to think it was the fun-est thing in the world and followed them around with heart-emoji eyes.

4) "Mr. Melancholy and his 'lunages'." A line from I Saw the TV Glow, which Nu was watching while I worked. Nu and At had already seen it together when Big A and I were in Arizona and liked it a lot. Turns out the line was "Mr. Melancholy and his luna juice." Umm. Yeah. Either way, I didn't get it. I think it's one of those things where you have to pay attention.

Pic: We've been going to Pride parades for years at this point, but I think I started giving the kids Pride presents only during the pandemic. Here, Nu and At are trying to figure out the prisms they got this year; Max thinks At, who'd stopped by for dinner after a shift at Chipotle, smells delicious. 

accident/destiny/serendipity

We didn't want to say goodbye, but we did. TJA was going to leave after breakfast, but we kept putting it off and it was lunchtime before we packed up her car for the drive back. On today's walk, while I was telling her about the four-leaved clovers I'd found... we found two more! 

Pic: The Red Cedar on the other side of the Spartan Stadium. Right after I passed this point, my phone was playing a Janet Jackson song and I got a text from TJA which was just... another Janet Jackson song. In retrospect, I guess it's not such a big deal--we're both from that generation--but I was so delighted by what seemed like a magical coincidence when it happened. Like the way we'd burst into goosebumps randomly because of something one of us had said.

holding on to love

Spent all day with TJA, who's visiting for the weekend. And it was like having the perfect visit (beer garden, walks, talks, puppy times, thrifting, falafel stand, book store, massages, Thai food).

We were young mamas together, and now our youngest ones are nearly grown, and our sisterhood has held. My only worry before TJA arrived was about holding my tongue about Dave Chappelle to whom she's very close and about whom I have opinions. But even that came up at dinner and we both said our earnest pieces and then we just held each other tight for a long time.

I'm afraid I've neglected my little family though. Nu had plans with a friend, so they were ok. But when I texted Big asking when he'd be ready for dinner, he texted back "Two hours ago" with a tongue-out emoji. (There were leftovers from Friday's dinner and he's a grown-up in a house with a stocked pantry and freezer so no real harm done though.)

Pic: TJA and me in the tea garden; pic by Nu.