waiting to be discovered

I come back, back to myself
my ears lost in my hair
skin in hide and seek

while waiting for the rain
while making some tea
I am owed

after I leave I wait to arrive

an endless innovation 

of grief, of joy 

loneliness is only an ongoing

connection with time

strange at its best

I learn how to speak to myself 

in courageous tenderness

and enact rest

________________________

Pic: The kandi bracelet Nu made me and Tiggy-Winkle (after Beatrix Potter) the fidget hedgehog KPB crocheted for me. They look like they could be friends and live together!

Marching Forth Again

I had a full teaching day, talked to my parents on the way to work, got lots of birthday visitors at work, and just... a lovely birthday! 

Friends, thank you for your wishes--I felt surrounded by love all day and your wishes in multiple places helped... I am so blessed and so, so grateful.

I wish I'd come to appreciate the serendipitous significance of my March Fourth/March Forth birthday earlier, but I'm running with it now. This year, apart from fighting fascism, I hope to prioritize working meaningfully on some of my longer projects. This was a new year's resolution that didn't quite take, but this is a good time to reset, I suppose.

Big A texted to say he'd "fucked up the cake." (He usually makes the chocolate cake from the recipe on the back of the Hershey's cocoa box, but there was no Hershey's in the store... and chaos!). It was just terrific, BTW. Went out for sushi with the fam, Nu made me a Kandi bracelet, At gave me books, Big A gave me a leaf blower of my very own so we could have leaf blowing duels and the now-customary card scrawled with all the dear details of our year that makes me cry every time.

(Now I can't wait for tomorrow and to be allowed to do stuff again. My parents used to do this, so I probably brought this tradition with me, but the birthday baby isn't allowed to do *anything* over the birthday weekend and sometimes it makes me feel a bit like I'm on a rest cure.)

Pic: Clockwise--Kids (Nu, At, Max, Huck), cake, me.

Pre-birthday!

Mondays aren't teaching days, so I had a soft reentry to the second half of the term. I got class preps in early, and worked on some reviews for a while. Then the heating tech came by to fix our broken heater. I forgot to mention we didn't have heat over the weekend--thankfully, the hot water was still working and I got by with sweaters and puppies.

Big A and I took off for a hike in Sleepy Hollow State Park, I've wanted to go back with him ever since I went with work friends last month. He downloaded the six-mile loop trail, but I wanted to go around the island too, as it's really picturesque, and then we got lost for a bit--so it ended up being more like eight miles. 

At one point, Big A pointed at a plastic tube and looked at me very meaningfully, and I didn't know what he meant--like was he mad that someone had dropped their chapstick? Turned out it was a shotgun casing. I'd never seen one in my life before. We found a bunch more further down the trail, but didn't meet any hunters.

Birthday cards and a garden catalog (Spring is coming!) were in the mail and we got Subway for dinner as a treat. Online birthday greetings are beginning to trickle in (my school friend's big sis in New Zealand is always the first one to wish me), I've had birthday calls with my sister and my uncle, my birthday fundraiser is over halfway there (I set a bigger goal than usual, fingers crossed), I'm on my way! Yay! 

Pic:Lake Ovid behind me. Sleepy Hollow State Park.

I Get By with a Little Help (Part #10754308659)

When C.D. heard that I hadn't been attending services on Sunday because sitting in silence by myself made me think of Scout and cry, she offered to go with me and hold my hand. (She usually goes to the Methodist church, not U.U.)

When E.M. showed up to write with me and saw the pile of table napkins that needed folding, she wordlessly set to work on the napkins right away.

When the young woman from whom I was going to buy the pond plants said when I showed up: "I don't want your money, I decided to give it to you for free." (I insisted that she take my five dollars anyway. And I think I hurt her feelings. I must remember that sometimes other people want to feel generous too.)

When my M.I.L. wrote in a card that I was "the sweetest and the fiercest." (I'm particularly proud of the fierceness because there are lots of fights I'll need to show up at.)

When L.B. and M.A. showed up early for bookclub to help me arrange things because I'd been working all day. (I'll forever remember the moment when I splashed some dressing, and LB who wouldn't have cared about it at her place knew it would bother me and got me a scrubber before I could turn around.)

(This one for the laughs it brought.) When I bought some pots at the Farmers Market and texted the young person who sold them about how beautiful they were, and they texted back that I was "more beautiful than the pots." My kids have been saying that I'm "more beautiful than pots" ever since.

Things I feel bad about not doing last week: Saying I'd help with cleaning up the Lansing Riverwalk and then not showing up. Turning down three students who wanted me to write recommendation letters for them--I'm not sure why they asked me since they'd never been in my classes, but still. "No" doesn't come easy.

Pic: A screengrab of Jane Fonda's acceptance speech of the SAG-AFTRA lifetime achievement award. What she says about staying in community and helping the vulnerable really spoke to me. The whole speech is here.

March ahead

Oh, the dread that descended as I thought and wrote, "Midterm break is over" at the end of yesterday's post. 

The thing is, the week has been non-stop. I worked with the Baldwin Prize people out of Baltimore from Friday. I judged scores of papers for the national English Literature honorary society (Sigma Tau Delta) all week ahead of the convention at the end of March--the deadline for that was yesterday. 

And I chaired the Women's and Gender Studies panel of the Michigan Academy conference yesterday, but also had to go to the Board Meeting which ran late on Thursday because somehow I'm now a board member. And I had a paper at the conference with EM, so we had to work on that all week too, finishing up in a burst of energy after dinner together on Wednesday.

And then I realized that we didn't have any speakers for Women's History Month, so I scrambled and used my professional connections and asked nicely and got two amazing speakers for us-- Heidi Lewis, President of the National Women's Studies Association, (via Zoom) and Lysne Beckwith Tait, Founder of Helping Women Period, (in person). I got some other activities arranged on the Women's History Month calendar too (a student symposium, International Women's Day Tea) but these things are more within my own control. When you work at a small college, one wears a lot of hats.

And then some bad news: The editor of an anthology where I had an accepted submission said The University of Louisiana Press had decided not to go ahead with publication. But in the wings, another anthology submission needed urgent copy-edits approval. The copy editor wanted to remove the parenthetical notation of the novels' dates of publication on introduction--I think it's highly pertinent? Anyway, some back and forth on that. 

And as of this morning, back to regular upkeep of Canvas pages and class preps for my classes. (And oh, I graded *everything* by Tuesday.)

Looking ahead, there are additional things I've agreed to. There's a class for incarcerated students on the 18th--I'd already prepped this last year but didn't get to do it and I'm looking forward to it. And also I'm going to be on a campus-wide panel talking about 50 days of this administration on the 12th--that should be fun (NOT!).

I guess it's a good thing we had a midterm break so I could work on these things without juggling regular classes as well.

Happy March! Marching ahead! (Also, I'm glad I didn't take off for Turkey!! Neither did my mom and sis, actually.)

Pic: From under the Beal Street Bridge. A thin glaze of ice on The Red Cedar; brilliant blue skies and bitingly cold winds. I walked and walked and walked to clear my head.

and in the end

 in all the noises that swallow our silence

the wind sweet from yesterday's baking

let's take an slow inventory of the body 

over the sore fingers, the ache of prayer 

as the snow bends us into old women 

& mouths sprout puffs of baby laughter 

until we pull the noise from our heads

those star-bellied, wind-bitten skies

and we are gentle loving the people

who can love each other at the end

_________________________

Pic: Outside. Thawing.

Updates and Pup-dates

Nance and Lisa mentioned GoodsUniteUs in the comments the other day as a way of checking out the politics of companies we're giving our $$ to. I agree that they're outstanding.

On a similar note, I've used Buycott in the past to check out specific brands--the app can scan UPCs, QRs, and barcodes while you're in the store. 

Engie mentioned looking up local stores on social media to get a read on their politics as well--I hadn't thought of that! 

J mentioned that she would be supporting local businesses and using cash, and that's such a great way to bypass the system. Several friends have mentioned this as a way to support small businesses as well. 

Stephany wondered where one would go for basics in the long term, and I haven't figured that one out yet. Bodegas?

The People's Union USA is taking the lead on Friday's economic shutdown--they're very new and worth/need keeping tabs on.

Pic: I find it so hilarious when Max does this--he bops Huckie on the head when he wants to play. They've already cleared all the pillows off the couches, but apparently there's more wild rumpus to follow.

wanting the kids to be alright

I found it so strange that two book clubs meeting this week read novels that were centered on missing kids. I don't think I'd have felt like reading either of these when I had younger kids myself. When I told EM this she chalked it up to me being likely to imagine At and Nu as the missing kids. Probably. I could barely bear reading these even with grown kids. And I doubt those worries go away entirely--Nu still texts when they get to school; At is off to Seattle tomorrow and will send travel updates. (Both at least partly per my request.)

I finished grading all the midterms this morning. (I'm teaching only two classes right now because I'm teaching a May-term this year as well, so it was relatively easy.) I'm so immensely proud of the way my students are thinking through problems and phenomena and coming up with amazing theses. I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if I saw something like this as an abstract in a professional journal: "When reading Amelia Lanyer’s “Eve’s Apology in Defense of Women” I was struck by how much it reminded me of but also contrasted with John Milton’s Paradise Lost; both works reinterpret the story of Adam and Eve, and were published in the 1600s. I remember that Milton reinterprets Adam eating the forbidden fruit as an act of love for Eve since he knows that she will die and can’t bear to live immortally without her. If this interpretation (and memory of it) are correct, it could be interesting to contrast this to what Lanyer does with Eve, interpreting her giving the fruit to Adam as a similar act of love.These are just the beginnings of an idea, though, and I would have to modify it to better fit the vision of the assignment outlined in the directions." Interstitially, as students write out their ideas I get to learn about personal details here and there and am humbled by how much so many of them have to combat to show up and keep on. Each of those circumstances is made even more heavy by the antics of the current administration. I'm so weary of all this chaos and cruelty.

Pic: These book covers are so pretty, especially dappled by sunlight like this. I know I'm making something blueberry themed for The Berry Pickers bookclub on Friday. What is the alarming 3-D seeming Pepto-pink drip on The God of the Woods supposed to be?! (OK, I googled--it's the pink coverup paint in Barbara's bedroom.)

"We Can't Bear it" (Barrett Edition)

There was another protest at Rep. Tom Barrett's office today, and school's on midterm break, so I went with L.  

We stood for an hour waving our signs and yelling chants and slogans. Someone halfheartedly started a rendition of "We shall Overcome," but it petered out after a stanza. There were some schoolchildren on a tour of the State Capitol and "Save our Schools" and "This is what democracy looks like" were very popular with them.

My favorite chant was the one I grabbed for the title of this post, "We Can't Bear it," with the last two words pronounced "Barrett." Clever! And fun to say.

Other things: We have 117 new refugee families in Lansing and their funding has been cut by the federal government, so fundraising is happening via Catholic Charities. 

Also, I've had it with Target and their performative politics--they've ditched DEI just as they ditched Pride displays at the first inkling of trouble. I've been boycotting them for a month already. Here's a list of companies to support and avoid. TLDR: Costco good; Amazon, Target, McDonalds bad. 

And of course, the big economic blackout is coming up on Friday.

Pic: These two earnest posters spoke to me the most. There were lots of clever posters including one with a "Musk-ito" sucking the life out of federal institutions, and an another by a laid off federal worker that said "an immigrant took my job" with a picture of Musk on it.

connecting

Last month Lisa introduced me to Jeanie, who lives and writes in my city and whom Lisa has known for twenty+ years. It has been lovely getting to know Jeanie online and then maddening to realize that we'd been at the same show of 9 to 5  but missed meeting each other and then a bit amusing to realize from a casual comment about a fundraiser for local transitional housing that our partners are in the same bicycling club. We do have concrete plans for a blogger meetup in April, but I suspect/hope we'll bump into each other before too long. 

As if all this online excitement wasn't enough, my week was sublimely elevated when I received J's lovely Mary Cassatt postcard in the mail. It took me back to when J visited the Cassatt exhibit as part of her birthday celebration in soft December sunshine in California. And as our Michigan temperatures climbed out of freezing this weekend, it felt like J's card was weaving a benevolent influence.

I was thinking of the ways we are all connected in millions of ways as I was coming home yesterday from visiting my sister's school friend, who is in some ways an intrinsic part of my sister's inner circle and community and hence mine on some level. 

I love all the stories we know about each other, all the ideas and hopes we get from each other, all the ways we know we are not alone in this world.

Pic: The spectacular sunset on my way home yesterday. Our world can be so beautiful. 

a love song / love cakes /surrounded by love

a love song

the hero in my heart feels right at home 

cheering for me, and asking to stay

I'm waiting...  for answers 

and searching for things I haven't lost

beloved, you whisper to me of love

how I can find it in myself 

__________________

I made Persian Love Cake last week from this recipe, and made it again this week with a few tweaks. I added pistachios and rose petals in the cake batter too, made a topping rather than a glaze, liberally increased the amount of sugar, rose water, and almond flour, used moulds rather than a pan, and so on to a point where it's now a different thing altogether.

I took a batch to with me to Troy when I went to visit my (actually my sister's) old school friend. I had to remind myself not to treat her like she was 15--she has an 18-year-old herself now. I took Big A's car in case I got lost because my car is all battery and I didn't want to be lost and without battery power. (And I did get lost once. Briefly.) I felt surrounded by love all day from Big A filling up his gas tank before he came home from work this morning to SQ sending me home with six boxes of food.

Pic: Love cakes cooling before being boxed up.

"do your job" / Karma

SO many of my friends showed up outside Rep. Tom Barrett's office today to protest. Titled, "Musk or Us," the protest was was supposed to get Barrett to fight back. So many people kept asking me to go to this one--I know a lot of very committed people! 

I had to keep saying no, because I had committed to coaching students in Baltimore working on their Baldwin Prize essays via Zoom. As it turned out, their heating went out and school was (and meetings were) canceled. But other related meetings took their place. Reportedly, there's another protest on Monday and I could go to that.

SD and AH sent a video of themselves chanting "Do Your Job!" and it occurred to me that basically it was a call for Barrett to perform his duty, his karma. Which made me wonder again how karma became shorthand for revenge or payback. Of course things get lost in translation, and "karma is a bitch" and "karma is a cat" are catchy sayings but distort Hindu philosophy. One of those chai-tea things that seems impossible to correct at this point.

But Rep. Barrett should do his job, his karma; he should do the right thing.

Pic: SD and AH sent me a picture of the crowd outside Rep. Tom Barrett's office. 

"It's all takin' and no givin'"

So I was a bit euphoric when I wrote yesterday's post. It feels good to solve a problem so easily. But I just know my parents would not approve of me making withdrawals from that account. I know they already gave it to me and it's mine to do whatever I wish with it and all that. But I feel bad. They'd be hurt about it. They would say they sacrificed a lot to give it to me. And yes, I guess they did sacrifice things like impromptu trips to Turkey when they were young to save it for me. I've also been feeling bad about Big A, who makes many times more than I do, but shares everything equally, and here I am spending a private stash I claimed was not for spending. But it's done. And I'm mostly glad I did it. 

Anyway.

Money is so weird. And I don't want to keep thinking about it and feeling anxious. 

But L took me to see 9 to 5 The Musical this evening and I had to continue to think about money some more. About 80% of the audience was women--as if the wage gap isn't an issue that ought to concern everyone. It was a terrific show and a lively and engaged audience. Bless Dolly Parton for making it all feel snappy and hummable at least.

"should I stay or should I go"

"Good Morning Akka," my baby sis texted me around 2:30 am... and then my mom got on the chat too and the three of us we were just... yakking for a while... (This is one of the many reasons my sleep patterns are so fucked.) And then, things got urgent. My mom who watches a lot of Turkish TV shows and has wanted to go to Turkey for a while and knows that Istanbul is huge on my list of places to visit because I'm a history nerd suggested we all go to Turkey together. She'd pay for my air ticket, she said. The three of us could share a suite. How about next week? We should go!

I asked Big A if I should go. (That's right, he usually works nights, so he was up reading beside me too; yet another reason my sleep is messed up.) He said to go for it. I have midterm break coming up next week and so I thought I could actually do it. But this morning, I looked at my calendar and realized that next week I'm in charge of the WGS sessions of the Michigan Academy conference and have board meetings, and am not completely off. Also, I was kind of looking forward to unwinding for a bit, and I'm a bit freaked out about planes falling out the sky. I'll probably stay.

I'm glad to see my mom is willing to spend that much money though. This was probably going to come from her "kum-kum money." (Kum-kum is sindoor/vermillion/the red powder Hindu women use in their hair as a marker of their married status.) Back in the day before middle-class Indian women worked, this was the money families gave their daughters when they got married so they wouldn't have to ask their husbands when they wanted to treat themselves to something. In Victorian novels, "Pin Money" seems to work this way? The amount varied according to the family. My grandmother's kum-kum money at her wedding was several mango orchards and required a manager and became the inheritance handed down to her own four daughters (including my mother). Unofficially, kum-kum money also worked as an emergency fund that could help women leave, if they decided they should go. 

Although Big A and I have everything in both our names, I still (and always will) have my kum-kum money in a separate account (I promised my parents this). And it's going to come in useful because just this morning, someone dear said they'd need help making their mortgage this month, and I know without consulting anyone that I am going to be able to be able to help. They'll be able to stay. 

Pic: Jumble of things on a shelf at work. I love that picture in the center with At reading to Nu so much... This was also around the time At had just discovered The Clash and loved belting out "Should I Stay or Should I go" as a punchline to everything.

stay unruly

In a recent post StephLove mentioned how when she visited her kid at Oberlin, she was "charmed by paper snowflakes in the windows surrounding a “Free Palestine” sign" because it made her "think about what it’s like to be in college, close enough to your childhood to make paper snowflakes, but old enough to be politically engaged."

I've thought about that image often since reading it, and it always makes me smile. It is particularly endearing. And it describes young people and their hopefulness and creativity perfectly... 

And in some way it also describes everyone I know. 

All of us making time outside of mandated work to create something or reach out to someone or share thoughts or start a conversation or make a difference are pushing back against a system that's built to keep people in narrowly-defined and isolated channels. 

I love the unruly nature of this. The system cannot rule us.

Yesterday, I looked up from typing just in time to see Nu (probably taking a break from homework) pick up an old party-favor-bubble-bottle that has been sitting on the table forever and blow out a stream of bubbles. I'm glad I caught that. That bubbling moment of playfulness in my child and the unexpected bubbles in my day.

Pic: Outside the window, are the icicles I think of as "the fangs of winter." Inside, my jasmine is budding profusely. Last May, a single bloom was so fragrant I nearly went mad with happiness. Fingers crossed for these buds.

fallout shelter breakout

there must be someplace where life takes place

outside the snarl and rattle of tyranny 

and everything else just waits

life could just be... beautiful even if useless 

longing could maybe be merely distance 

growing wordless, not mindless 

but my teen just doesn't yet know what happens  

to the Emmett Till Monument... doesn't even

know what they've done to Stonewall 

it feels like we've hardly caught up with history 

while events range--like mountain peaks

just absurd in scale and spilling over

so here we go again searching for surest shelter 

after gasping out how we'll never return 

just... going back and forth like that  

_____________________________

Pic: Serendipitously, a shelter I spied at Sleepy Hollow Park yesterday. 

a stranger sonnet

I let the ecologue in my head be interrupted
for it is also right there and alright
ready to wait for these letters 

that make all these words

that then go on to make

so many meanings

and things

watch how

it is wayward

and a bit word weary 

and yet bright as a ribbon

tossed up, a road trip through 

options: what is / what we wanted /

how we find our way as we brake for beauty

_________________________________

Pic: A hike in Sleepy Hollow State Park with work friends (none of whom I'd ever hiked with before). Also four new-to-me doggos. Would repeat. In the proverbial heartbeat.

"avoiding time travel"

My people showed up! The potluck went great! 

Everyone picked five songs for the playlist so everyone had something they liked to groove to and it turned out to be a neat icebreaker with people bonding over artists as disparate as David Gray and Rupaul. And also, there is a song called “Cowboys are Frequently Secretly Fond of Each Other” (with Willie Nelson), and isn't that a great title?

Funniest thing: SD is no longer a work friend, but continues to crack me up. He submitted ten songs (instead of five)  on behalf of himself and AH and quipped, "Married filing separately, bitches!" This makes me giggle every time I remember it. 

Smartest thing: "Avoid time travel," DG told us--"don't dwell in the past, don't obsess about the future; just live in the present." Sounds like something well worth trying. 

Sweetest thing: DV's chocolate-raspberry torte was wildly popular and was polished off before too long. But after clean up, I kicked back with a bowlful of her whipped cream, dipping hothouse strawberries into it.

Pic: The zucchini and carrot rosette tart I made based on the picture I fell in love with on this recipe website. (At some point, I got tired of rolling carrot peels into rosettes and instead layered circles of mini peppers to look like the core calyx and sepals.)

the drumming in the wilderness

by the time this day ends 

I've  run  out  of  prayers

but  I've  made  an  altar

where  I grimly offer up 

my  pride,  my  surprise 

other  words  are  missing

(we'll  always  miss  them)

there is also indifference

its easy caress like a hook

escaping edicts, their edits

dim redactions--it's official

it's artificial--how we are all 

desperate as gossips--telling 

and listening at the same time

__________________

Pic: Store-bought chocolate cheesecake bites, store-bought valentine's day picks; assemblage 100% me. Max still doesn't know chocolate Valentine's Day treats are not for him--it's a good thing there are other treats he can have. Several long meetings today, but I somehow managed to power shop for our Post-Valentine's potluck tomorrow. We've already had some cancelations from long-distance friends due to the winter storm though... I think local friends will still be able to make it. Let's see. 

killing medicine

Big A posted this publicly, and I'm sharing a part of what he wrote here. The whole thing is basically a valediction for the medical progress he's seen over the course of his career and the reverses that are already beginning to happen. 

This is just one of the many, many, many stories from people like him who have devoted their lives to making a difference and are now seeing everything they've worked for being dismantled in a matter of days.

"As a premed at the NIH in the mid-90s, I volunteered at D.C.'s largest HIV clinic during the ongoing AIDS epidemic, and got a tour of Tony Fauci's lab from one of my co-volunteers who also worked in Bethesda. One of the most astonishing changes in the 30 years since is that we rarely see complications of advanced HIV infection in the ER.

As med students in Cleveland, we were regularly awestruck running into Fred Robbins, who received a Nobel prize for their contributions to the development of the polio vaccine, in the hallways,. I have never seen an acute case of poliomyelitis, but it's suddenly plausible I may. (Until 2024 I had never even diagnosed whooping cough; I've already been exposed twice in the past two months during a recent pertussis outbreak triggered in no small part by the number of unvaccinated children.)

I'm eternally grateful for having trained at Bellevue Hospital during the era of Lewis Goldfrank, who always put the needs of the marginalized and afflicted above those of corporate medicine and the capitalist healthcare system. And I'm lucky to have had support from the NIH as a postdoc, which has allowed me to devote some of my hours outside the ER to helping prevent fatal opioid overdose among my fellow Michiganders.

But the grants that pay for free naloxone come from the HHS, now led by an infamous anti-vaxxer and conspiracist (while, simultaneously, an unelected far right-wing industrialist is rapidly dismantling pieces of the global public health safety net)."

And so it goes. Sad and scary times. And it's happening all over, in the National Park Services, the Kennedy Center, and all across the federal workforce.

_________________

Pic: Huck and Max aren't ready for me to take this picture. Max is like: Mom! Do you mind? I just want to pee! We had a massive snowstorm--Huck is wading in snow.