how it is possible to be lonely
buried in never ending seams of snow
their small calls lie unanswered
stoic, they tuck distance under each wing
I also thought for sure that the falling ice--which was SO loud--would take out our roof and that we might lose power and I was wrong on both those counts... I'm happy to be wrong sometimes.
Book club (Demon Copperhead) got postponed and an after-work hang with girlfriends got canceled. So I got home from work, dropped off At's new bank card (they lost their wallet last week), and hunkered down for an evening with Nu, Scout, and Huck (and Big A on Portal). I made a fish curry; Nu thought it was a stew: po-tay-toe, poh-tah-toe. Then an impromptu song fest with every Friday-themed song we could think of, including this one.
Pic: The backyard trees are sparkly, heavy, and creaky with ice. So pretty and a bit menacing.
I took a trip down memory lane earlier this week when I recalled the first time I heard Pachelbel's "Canon in D".
Then on a whim I sauntered down AI Alley when I asked ChatGPT to write me a poem based on that incident. ChatGPT obliged with the poem on the left.
It's quite the doggerel.
Which is why I don't share the moral panic about students using it to cheat on essays and exams. From everything I've seen, ChatGPT seems to tend towards the bland and the banal. I think I'd be able to tell something was off from the odd combination of impeccable grammar and tediously repetitive sentences.
Famous last words as I head off to grade midterm essays and exams...
But the kind words inside about the classroom being a "positive space" where they could "learn and grow"nearly made me cry.
It has been a tough couple of weeks for all of us in this part of Michigan. The streets and sidewalks are full of election lawn signs repurposed to offer support and bouquets left at impromptu shrines all over the place. I now know of way too many first degree survivors of the shooting. Classes resumed yesterday at MSU and I'm proud of students for continuing to demonstrate at the capitol and demand common-sense gun reform.
I am sad that second-degree survivors like my students who stayed on the phone with their MSU friends during lockdown or were traumatized by proximity and details have just been expected to show up and carry out their duties as if nothing happened. (I'm mostly guilty of this too. It's difficult to do something substantial without institutional approval.)
In the evening, BSL stopped by on her way from dropping off a care package for SE, and I had a care package for her. Not quite O. Henry "Gift of the Magi" style, but for a moment like this, I think I like the ecology of a continuum of care more than a transactional one-to-one economy. And hugs are among the best thing humans do.
She was the student director of the writing center where I worked for my stipend in my first year in the U.S., and she'd invited me over to dinner. She and her philosopher partner were very into classical music and so I started jabbering about this absolutely magical piece I'd heard earlier that day although I didn't know what it was called. Then I started humming it.
CJ and L listened so seriously and then CJ ID-ed it as Pachelbel's "Canon in D" and helpfully added that it was a baroque piece and very famous and lot of people played it at their weddings and so on.
I've since been to lots of weddings where they did indeed play "Canon in D" and it's CJ I think of every time. I'm so happy to be in touch with her again even it's mostly from a distance.
Pic: Grandpa R (Big A's dad) visited yesterday and I got a picture of the three generations... with iterations of similar foreheads.
Family dinner yesterday. Lots of discussions and decisions... The most exciting of which is that At, Nu, and I plan to travel to Bangalore in August. Big A can't go because he'll be in a new job, but thinks we shouldn't delay as it may be the last chance for the kids to have a good visit with my parents. That... sounds awful and I disagree (fingers in ears, la-la-la-la-la). But in any case, it made us not even blink at the steep ticket prices.
Also in the throes of writing my CASA report this weekend, and I hate how the world has so few safety nets and will not allow people a decent second chance to bounce back from long-ago mistakes.
Pic: Huckie being cute and charming the older sibs. Chances are Scout is by my chair as usual.
My usual hiking companion L is recovering from an injury and will be leaving for a month starting tomorrow, and my bestie KB (who made the intro to KPB) is too far away now, so I am extra grateful for this connection.
Pic: The Meijer Trail in Alma; I cannot bring myself to hike the MSU trails just yet.
44th day of the year = 67th mass shooting of the year330 million people : 393.3 million guns50,000 students on campus now - 8It's like one of those rubbishmath problems and anywayI'm so rubbish at mathmy only math quoteis from the movieMean Girls:
and what little I know cannot begin to explainthe things you kind of know and cannot saythis rapping against rumor and fearin class I lectured on literary theoryparenthetically on New Criticismthose old formalists proclaimingpoems are self-containedand self-referentialthey should notmean, butjust beas
in the morning after, those of us who've survivedcan hear the FBI and several State Policewho are are live on the radio askingin a carnival of indecision why--why did he do it, what made himwant to shoot up campusit seems a bit obliviousI want to tell themwhat I learnedto yell
what little I know cannot begin to explainthere's no math or meaning making herethe author's intention doesn't matterthe limit does not existthe author's intentiondoesn't matterthe limitdoes notexist
Michigan currently has a governor and a legislature that is democratic and has introduced state bills 76-86 for gun reform. Some of these may have stopped the shooter before lives were lost.
Fear--> Anger--> Resolve-->
Time to call my representatives about SB 76-86.
Pic: via Twitter.
My India fam is back from the trip to visit friends and we've been inseparable all day. Time is running out. This is likely my mom's...