the things they gave me

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. 

picking myself up

This morning, I was supposed to go across the street to L's to participate in a local TV interview about the Peace Pole quest she puts on every September. But I woke up feeling poorly, feeling sad Big A wasn't around to care for me.

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

not giving up

L invited a bunch of us over to her place yesterday to write postcards to people in Georgia urging them to check their voter registration and vote early as "our freedoms are on the ballot on November 5th." We copied addresses out, stuck stamps on, decorated to our hearts' content, and wrote encouraging messages till our hands were cramped. L is not taking things for granted or giving up on American democracy.

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...

And he's off...

Big A set off for the five-day Dick Allen Lansing to MacKinaw Bicycle Tour (the DALMAC) this morning. A few friends were surprised/concerned because he was in the hospital with long Covid just last month. 

If I'm being honest, I am too. But A can make decisions for himself and it's all fairly local, so I can always go pick him up if he decides to bail. He really does look forward to this tour every year, and I hope he has a lovely time!

Pic: Big A figures out how to ride a bike... KIDDING! Big A sets off for the DALMAC.

good gardener; bad farmer

We've actually had luck with the veggie plots this year. 

Back in May, when we started, we laid plastic mesh down in the beds to discourage underground animals and lighter netting above ground as protection from birds and squirrels. This double-layered protection seems to have worked.

But while I'm good at keeping things alive, I suck at harvesting. The tomatoes beckon with their bright colors, and I grab them when I'm out with Max and Huck. But the peppers, kale, cucumbers, herbs, and zucchini need to be gathered too.

Pic: Today's tomatoes... and those to come.

American Empire

[If you're riding a high from the DNC, please skip this post. 

I'm a bit demoralized from the bread-and-circuses model. I want to hear more about childcare, labor, healthcare, paid family leave, housing, etc. and less about "lethal fighting forces." I can't stop thinking how according to the Department of Housing and Urban Development, it would cost $20 billion to end homelessness in the United States and we sent that much just this week to an ally who will use it to bomb civilians in Gaza.]

Morning   I thought UAW (United Auto Workers) leadership stated it succinctly, "If we want peace, if we want real democracy, and if we want to win this election, the Democratic Party must allow a Palestinian American speaker to be heard from the DNC stage tonight."

I spent hours calling representatives and helping friends call their representatives to get at least two minutes for Rep. Ruwa Romman of Georgia to speak from the main stage on behalf of Palestinian Americans. In her vetted speech, she would have endorsed Harris-Walz and encouraged uncommitted voters to unite behind them. But none of that happened. This was an immense opportunity for goodwill squandered by the Harris-Walz camp.

Afternoon A colleague I hadn't seen all summer asked me if I was excited Kamala Harris is a presidential nominee. I must have looked blank because he clarified, "She's an Indian woman!" This no doubt comes from a well-meaning place, but I probably have more in common with her Marxist professor father than with someone who was a D.A. 

And also, I wondered if it would be rude if I in turn asked him if he was excited because Trump is a presidential nominee as they're both white men.

Evening   Snippets from the Democratic National Convention.

"I will ensure America always has the most lethal fighting force..." (Kamala Harris) 

"U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.!" (crowd)

"So they put a rifle in my hand/sent me off to a foreign land/to go and kill the yellow man" (Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the U.S.A." plays overhead) [Why do people think this is a patriotic song to play at conventions?!]

six on Sunday

1. The girlfriends and I were supposed to see It Ends With Us this weekend. I'd even persevered through the book with its weird use of language.  (Although I've since learned that the author didn't get to go to college and has written several novels anyway--so you go, Colleen Hoover!) But all the mean girl drama around the movie's release soured it for me. So I bailed and then everyone else bailed as well. NGL, I really wasn't looking forward to seeing DV enacted on the big screen.

2. Wouldn't you know it, as women began to call for justice, instead of demanding justice alongside them, Indian men got all defensive and started to protest that it was "not all men." The awesome comeback has been "perhaps not all men, but it is ALWAYS men." Word.

3. We got a new mattress and when we were cutting it out of its plastic packaging this morning, I accidentally nicked it with the box cutter. I apologized so much... and Big A was so... magnanimous telling me not to worry about it. Later as we set it up, I realized his side had three or four nicks. Dude!? Why didn't you say something? 

4. There was a Not Another Bomb gathering this afternoon downtown calling for an arms embargo. I think there would have been more people there if not for the rain. There is an online petition circulating as well.

5. I thought I'd use the summer to fix my broken sleep habits, but I've been going to bed later and later and usually at 4 am. It'll be a relief to revert to going to bed at 2 am now that I'm back to work tomorrow. And as LV just texted to say, "Nerdy admission of the day: I’m kinda excited to see everyone tomorrow." Same!!

6. Pic: LB wanted to try my Evening in India menu, so I scooped a couple of tablespoons of each dish into the tiny jars I bought long ago for food prep but never got around to using. And then all 12 jars nestled perfectly in the crate my tomatoes came home in. I just feel so happy about how this turned out.

Evening in India #5

I hosted my Evening in India fundraiser for the UU today. I've been doing it since 2018 apparently, and by this point, I have a fixed menu and a pattern of prep, so I got through it like a champ. I mean, I still shopped for hours yesterday and spent hours in the kitchen today since it's a four-course meal, but it benefits a beautiful place so I feel happy about this labor of love.

(I haven't been to the UU as much as I should/could/would have lately because Scout grief floods me in moments of quiet and public crying is so... trying. But anyway.) 

The event went well. My tableful of guests got along great, there were some repeat "customers," and one of the new ones said that she'd heard so much about my offering and that it lived up to the hype in every way. Aw!

Yesterday was India's Independence Day, so I shared that. Yesterday was also the day many of my Indian sisters were lamenting that Indian women are not yet free because there has been yet another horrific rape and many women have spent the last week at protest marches. Perhaps I should not have shared that.

Pic; Après dinner games at the table...

Love is patient, love is kind/Y'all gon' make me lose my fuckin' mind

Today was for a mini-hang with Nu. There was tiramisu and samosas... And I found the perfect white tee for them to tie-dye to wear to senior sunrise... 

But our big thing was finding the circuit court so we could file the papers for their name change. I'd meticulously filled out the forms as a present for their 16th birthday, but we'd never gotten around to actually filing it at the court. The clerk and Nu were very impressed that I'd done all the paperwork without a lawyer. Impressing my 16-year-old isn't easy, and I'll take this win. Fingers crossed that everything goes smoothly. My darling deserves some softness in their life.

My sister, who is childfree, noted that parenting seems fraught with worry. If you're not worrying about nursing or toddler milestones, you're worrying about school, health, education, employment, relationships, or some combination of the above or something else entirely, no? Or is it just me? Like, I loved, loved, loved my day with At yesterday, but there was an underlying sadness about how hard their life is. Although, if I think about it, I guess I too was poor at 25 when I was in grad school? Anyway...

Pic: I rounded off the day at EM's birthday party. All she wanted in lieu of presents were donations to the Refugee Development Center, so I added a printout of the poem I'd written for her. She doesn't swear that much, so I took it as a compliment when she texted late at night to say "I almost cried when I read the poem. I love it so fucking much."

joy ride

for E.M.

our car crawls through I-96 

and idle light

we race through conversations

wondering 

at coincidence and serendipity

of finding the exit 

for "Baldwin Street" just as we 

gush about 

James Baldwin's centenary  

or of seeing 

"Dayton Freight" just as we were

discussing 

a time at the University of Dayton

So... now fired up

by our "power to manifest" 

we tidy up earth--  

call out all we want: world peace,

an election landslide,

an end to poverty... and billionaires,

humane higher ed...

It's as if we believe in the madness

in ourselves

as we believe in the hopeful darkness 

cradling stars

___________________

Pic: The Red Cedar through the grille on the Spartan Bridge.

you probably shouldn't read this

you probably shouldn't read this     I've said it all before        I get through another day          it piles up and becomes a life         what can be said       you've seen it all yourself       another school was bombed today in Gaza         Al Tabin School        I watched it in words         but there are pictures if you want it          can you bear to see another photo of dead siblings huddled together under the rubble       who picks up the bodies and the pieces of bodies      the guts       the hearts     the ashes    white phosphorus buries itself into the body and burns all the way down to the bone like a firework        it is sick         I am sick          there's a great sickness in this            there's a sickness in doing this       and a sickness in a world that allows this to happen         we know this is happening       how have we not shut this shit down          I fall on the same rock         I beat against the same rock             massacre       genocide       holocaust        the words are not enough          and also the words are so old and immense             they sound a bit like I might be misusing them                    like I might be exaggerating a bit               I'm not                     I feel self-conscious for saying the same thing over and over           186,000 dead after living through this over and over and over     I feel I might go mad       I go mad      I feel myself going mad      I keep saying words that have no power           they have no power   they move no one             they have no power   nothing happens after I say them           they have no power   they cannot answer the blinded child asking "why do they do this to us"        I am an adult in this world this child lives in        I bear responsibility      I am American and my taxes pay for those bombs       I bear responsibility         they will never forgive us for reminding them they are human

___________________________

The wonderful June Jordan said all of this and so this beautifully back in 1982 in an unpublished letter: "I claim responsibility for the Israeli crimes against humanity because I am an American and American monies made these atrocities possible. I claim responsibility for Sabra and Shatilah [sic] because, clearly, I have not done enough to halt heinous episodes of holocaust and genocide around the globe. I accept this responsibility and I work for the day when I may help to save any one other life, in fact." The whole article in the LA Review of Books about Audre Lorde, Adrienne Rich, June Jordan, and Palestine is awesome.  

Go, Fourth!

It's the fourth of the month and my Boss Day!

I think I've finally handled the zombie deadline thing, so that was my Boss Day present to myself. Big A got his waders on and climbed into the pond to do some final edging and rearranging with the rocks we'd dug up per my guidance--so that was Big A's Boss Day present to me. 

(I would have liked a long walk to round off the day, but we ran out of time, so the erg machine it was. But I still made time to soak and read for a bit.)

Then we ordered sushi and everyone was happy. 

Pic: Huck and Max (and Nu in the background) hanging out. Huck and Max are waiting to catch banana bites. They're off to the groomer this week, so this is a fuzzy pic before they go all sleek.

eat, watch, eat what you watch

We've had a ton of people to feed in the last two days including our own At whose Boss Day it was yesterday. There was a big and beautiful summer ratatouille (I hope it was made by a rat, EM said!). But Boss Day for At is more about the entertainment than the food though. So, At sat us down for a family viewing of Caché (excellent) and then we went to see Trap at the movies (fun). 

But back to the food. I'd offered to make Poori because a pregnant friend was craving them... although I'd never made them before. I read a ton of recipes and watched some YouTube videos, but somehow, when it was time to fry them up... Big A and AS seem to have taken over (Pic).

Herb + Scrap Garden

I have a crate of ripe tomatoes from the farmers' market on the floor of my pantry, and abundant cherry tomatoes in a container pot on the patio, but every morning I bounce out of bed to squint through the early morning glare on the windows to check if the tomatoes ripening in my veggie plot are still there. So far, so good! There are some absolute beauties that should be ready for us in a week or so.

In the meantime, the herbs I planted indoors while we were still snowbound back in March are doing alright too.  StephLove was 100% right that the basil wouldn't last--it didn't despite my care and all that sunlight. Neither did the parsley, but the other herbs I think of as my "Scarborough Fair" herbs--sage, rosemary, thyme, and bonus mint are doing great. 

At some point, I started tucking nubs of things I'd used up in the kitchen like swiss chard, romaine, green onions, leeks, and celery into those pots, and it has been so cheery to see them sprouting all over again. I used the onions, chard, and romaine to up the green quotient in our dinner today.

Pic: Herbs and scraps growing. Also in the frame (bottom right) my very leafy but blossomlessfree jasmine.

someday...

I've loved the beach since I was a kid. The beach (especially if I'm there with people I love) is always my happy place.  

That's something Big A knows. For instance, when we had to queue up an hour early for good seats on the cruise on Saturday, he remarked that I didn't seem to mind because I just watched the waves the whole time. No phone or book, he marveled.

So as we drove over the Mackinaw Bridge, Big A was daydreaming about getting a cabin on the lake someday so I could watch the waves all day. It would have to be a tiny plot and all we'd put in would be one great room with a screened-in porch. I realized the screened-in porch would be for A who doesn't enjoy the beach and sun as much as I do--so basically, a way for him to be with me as I do something I love. 

Love is a true blessing. 

Pic: Beautiful Lake Superior from the car window as we left the Upper Peninsula yesterday. I still yearn for the ocean some days, but the Great Lakes and the "third coast" have really grown on me. 

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).

naming our vineyard

Another quiet day here today. All I had in my pictures folder was this reminder that we have volunteer grapevines (with tight clusters of unripe grapes) in the driveway. It reminded me of Nicole living on a vineyard and I amused myself by wondering what we might name our "vineyard". (Because, as I don't know much about wine, clever names and fun labels are the most important part of the wine business for me.) 

I think it would have to be something with "Doggie" in it. I mean, that was the main contender when we changed our family name 17 years ago... Doggie Tales? Domaine d' Doggie? Woof Woof Winery?

(As it turned out, when we finally changed our name, we knit together one of my family names and part of Big A's. I love that he changed his name as well, and always think about how he had to petition the courts and pay a fee to do that--our current patriarchal system is not set up for men to change their names when they get married.)

Pic: One of our volunteer grapevines. I don't know how the vineyards further north do it, because our grapes aren't at all ripe by the time Fall rolls around...

up and down and all around

The writing group didn't meet today... but good news about two conference acceptances. I'll chair the panel on narrative medicine; and I'm really excited about the panel I organized, titled, "If You Build It, They Will Come: Critical Feminist Practices for Campuses, Communities, and Campus-Community Partnerships."

I think we've finally finished edging the pond... but there have been some work-related woes, so we may be putting the house up for sale if things don't turn around. I'm determined to enjoy it while we're here!

I loved Sandwich so much, that I downloaded We All Want Impossible Things right away... and it's just so sad, I don't know that I can go on.

A long walk with Big A with the weather app predicting no rain as we set off... and then after we got to the halfway point, it began to rain. Oh, well, I'm not actually made of sugar.

Pic: A family of geese out on an outing.

things come into my life

I almost got into the car so I could drive to Toronto and hug someone I've never met. 

I got to know Anita, a jewelry designer-labor organizer-prof on an online forum many, many years ago. Yesterday, I opened up my mail to find they'd sent me some exquisite watermelon pins they had made to support Gaza. Their sweet card said how they've enjoyed watching me and my kids grow over the years on FB.

I've wanted watermelon merch for a few months now, but always felt like that sort of discretionary spending could be better used as an actual donation to Gaza--so this is extra perfect. I'm so moved by Anita's generosity (talent, time, effort, material, and more), and I'm so grateful there are people like Anita in our world; someday, I hope to be one of them.

And then my colleague-friends KC and SS who'd traveled to Morocco brought me back a beautiful silk scarf patterned with vines and hamsas. "It was screaming your name," KC said, which made me laugh. They had a lot of students to care for while there, so I'm surprised and touched they thought of me.

Pic: My new scarf and pins. These beautiful things and the kindnesses they represent mean so much.

looking back; looking forward

Different people brought different memories of the veterans they wanted to memorialize... JN is working on a book based on their father's letters from WWII; everyone remembered at least one person who'd served; I mentally dedicated today's gathering to the righteous Aaron Bushnell. 

We talked about plans for the summer... "I'll be over here just baby-ing" BOL said. It was easily the most electric announcement of the evening, but the middle schoolers and high schoolers were just as enthusiastic about being done with school and sleeping in. Long after most people had left, EM, SI, and I sat in the dusk as the remaining kids played Cornhole, planning tentative day trips to the beach at Sagatuck and the Art Institute of Chicago.

(Trying hard to remember that hopelessness is a tool of oppression, so celebrating community and the many things we can achieve by organizing.)

Pic: Early in the evening. I forgot to take pictures of our picnic later. BOL's baked mac was a hit, as were JN's lavender and rosewater cookies and my red-white-and-blue berry cake. (I went with strawberries instead of raspberries as they were fresher... Thanks, StephLove, I got the the idea from you!)