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. 

strange new world

Weird how a day can begin like every other and then end up as something unknown. A is sick and in the hospital. It feels like being in a parallel world. 

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.