Paddling/Pedaling in Place

Early morning ramble with R and L and from a distance, I quite like these geese on the Red Cedar River. I didn't at all like having to pick my way through their leavings and I kind of lost my courage and my hike pals when they crossed the trail en masse. But away in the water, I can forget their meanness and marvel at their grace.

I've added into this weekend all the social structure I mourned at the beginning of the week--a distant visit with CF, a group call with cousins, a movie with EM after dinner, and I've checked in with a handful of students and friends who live by themselves. 

Oh. And after years of mocking Big A and his "Pedalton," I took a Peloton ride today, and kinda liked it... It was right before I left to meet CF, and it got me rather sweaty in just over 20 minutes. Nu, At, and I all wear the same shoe size (and I know it sounds gross), so we're sharing the one pair until we feel committed. A ridiculously privileged version of Children of Heaven.

Babies w/o Breakfast

The biggest = the saddest.

We're moving to a different online instructional platform at work, and my morning meeting ran late (there are so many morning meetings!!) and according to Big A's phone pic, some of the kids got hungry and anxious for breakfast. 😂

It's gloriously cooler with gray-stormy-gloomy weather outside. I canceled all school-adjacent activities for the 12-year-old, and can hear them cackling with their older sibling over ridiculous videos in the rumpus room now.

Out of the meeting, but deep into the woods of my email and editing...

Making Normal

At and Nu made me tea from the mint they'd harvested and dried last week.

Also, I should confess that I start a "tradition" nearly every other second. Here, the kids had  indulged--reluctantly--my proposition that we do yoga together, so I got them new yoga mats to sweeten the request (they immediately had a 'mat fight' and a 'telescope session' while I tried to save the tea from ending up in our laps; it wasn't zen :).

In the meantime, other incipient 'traditions' from earlier on in this pandemic--bake-alongs, hours-long cousins-zoom-chats, checking in on CF, EM, CC,  KB, JG, and students who cropped up in my head on a weekly (at least) basis have fallen off.

This week's realization is that I'm trying to remake normal or carry on like things are normal when they're patently not. I suspect I'll be back to upholding practices to make things feel less turbulent soon, but in the meantime, let me acknowledge my sad, madcap need to manage a worldwide pandemic.

In Between

                    I'm constantly veering between these two modes of engagement and information gathering. I know which one is useful and helpful, but I just can't help myself sometimes. 

Mostly here

I took an accidental selfie while trying to get a picture of Big A and the puppies the other day, and first, my skin can't really be that clear--what?! But also, my half face is a solid metaphor for my current fragmentation--how it feels a bit empty despite checking off most of my family, household, and self-care goals every day (I continue to lag on the professional front).

Eating my second nectarine in the hammock today was blissful, yes--but also, I could hear myself thinking--hey, look! I'm eating nectarines in a hammock! I'm having such a great time! My somewhat desperate enjoyment of summer, the urgency to do all of the summer things is partly Pure Michigan (ha); but surely, me trying to convince myself things are fine is related to our strange, sad, pandemic times?

Food (related) notes

These are the first of At's tomatoes and he has high hopes about serving them with breadcrumbs and mozzarella whenever they he happens to be ready.

I watched a few eps of the new Masterpiece/PBS orientalist fantasy Beecham House--somehow simultaneously overblown and underdone. William Dalrymple is a historical consultant on the show and it's directed by Gurindher Chadha, but despite those two it's really, really bad. I got so irritated almost immediately that the hindi dialogue gets mentioned but not translated e.g., "X speaks in Hindi"--What did he say?! How could it not matter?! Anyway, it inspired "Anglo-Indian" elements at dinner prep time--the peach chutney, ghee toast, and curry-poached cod came together from whatever we needed to use up before our Imperfect Foods box arrives tomorrow and the steamed veg was tongue-in-cheek homage to stereotypical Brit cuisine/me running out of time and imagination.

At dinner, it got us talking about trips to England (especially last year's "Cosmopolitan England" Spring term trip) and all the good meals we've eaten there (some straight out of Sainsbury's). I miss travel.

Another Day

When Scout climbs up on my hammock the way he is with Big A here, it can set me rocking for a long time.

I spent most of the day outside and people visited me from time to time as I finished the book I was reading (This Tender Land--I liked the Odyssey framing, but some parts were fairly twee and the ending was overstuffed and hurried).

We got some tiny tomatoes from my veggie plot!  And that was all the actual excitement the day held.

Who's petting whom?

At sent this selfie to family chat claiming Scout was asking for pets, but the picture shows it was Scout who was doing all the petting on his favorite boy.

Right?

1/2 2020 Sonnet

Fond of sun,
my children and I
our thoughts tail us--
or are afterthoughts--
quiet and still as stones
our bones are sinking, singing
their fantasy of thanks to the earth.

Lulled by sun,
my children and I
are adrift on a river of
unhurried afternoons straining
only with birdsong, brilliance, buzz.
We'd say we are quite, quite ruined for the past
why--even ghosts who call, shine bright with future.

Standing

Summer--like snow before--
remakes my world into
an unknowable
loving

In the vines' arch embrace
Leaves bloom, pat me
as I pass in lashes
of love

It seems you dream of
us in the wake of
these whispers--
hearing

Voices that are right, ready:
Justice is late in coming
but protest is already
here.

Some bunny loves the sign!

I was worried about our sign being too loud, but this little guy seemed to paying attention. It looked like a charming vignette and I sent this picture to family chat with the caption "Some bunny loves the sign!" And then they started making jokes about how "we believe bunnies are for chasing."

 It was an eye-roll FML moment on chat--but I not-so-secretly love this IRL. Some ribbing and laughter make this isolation bearable.

"meeting"

Oh hey, look: a pic of At and me in the same frame. We're at a meeting with Senator Gary Peters' office making a case for us (the U.S.) to pay our U.N. dues and reinstate our membership in the World Health Organization.

BT made a point about how she and Peters were Alma grads and although both of them are before my time, I beamed as though I had personally handed them their diplomas.

Show and Tell

We were just given the new sign this week, and although I'm committed to all of the positions it articulates, it feels a bit performative having it out there next to our 'neighbor' sign and our Little Free Library and its rainbow tassels.

I guess though that if it changes someone's mind or helps someone feel a little less alone, it will have been worth it. And perhaps there should be an additional line for these times: "Wear your mask; show you care." 

At breakfast, Big A said, "it sure looks like old white liberals live here." The kids found that SO hilarious and guffawed long and hard. And they kept riffing on it and bringing up Bradley Whitford's character in Get Out who says "I'd have voted for Obama a third term if I could." It all feels a bit showy and like virtue-signaling--I hope we will do right by all these ideals.

Purple Prince, Purple Prince

Beyond MSU Horticultural Gardens with L in the early morning and Napolean Dynamite with the kids in the evening, not much to remember. (Big A is working today and I barely saw him all day.)

I used my shadow selfie with "Purple Prince" as an opening gambit to my check-in with KB who's in Minnesota visiting her mom. "The weeks are beginning to beginning to blend together," she wrote back.

Same, gurrl; same.

* Also when I poked around on the internet, it turned out that there are lots of "purple prince" varietals--some of them from centuries ago related to purple being the color of royalty and all that. But there's only one Prince my socialist heart will allow.

Sunrise/Sunset Style

Early morning hike with LB along the Red Cedar and we're terrorized by hordes of geese, horrified with their leavings, and kind of grateful for our pandemic masks.











Afternoon (social distancing) birthday visit and walk with CF along the Abbot trail and she and (contagiously me) are charmed by the faraway geese peaceably nestled far from the trail  in the rushes along the river.

Daily laugh/cry

This is so on the nose, I suspect someone in my teaching community wrote it.  Full thing is here at McSweeney's.

"Dear University Community,

Since we first announced our plans 
to reopen this fall (a far too early decision given the lack of reliable data about the likely 
prevalence of COVID-19 in the fall, but done out of necessity to beat the June 1st National 
College Decision Day deadline), many students, parents, faculty, and staff have asked us 
how we plan to ensure that we reopen safely. Our strategy is outlined below, but the short 
answer is this: Our university will proceed as if everything will be okay 
because we really, really want it to be."

Bad case of...

Huck has a gnarly patch in her under-chin fold that seems to be causing her some distress. But here, she looks adorably pensive, watching At take her picture,  having voluntarily retired to the puppy room (which usually doesn't happen and is yet another indication of her discomfort and pain).

We talked to the vet, but it looks like we'll need to take her in; the thought of leaving the house to go into someplace is giving me anxiety hives.

Moments

A lunchtime visitor-nuzzler actually makes work easier for me in this picture. I wonder how people with younger/needier kids are faring.

I'm up by 6 most days. I have plenty of time to myself before the kids are supposed to wake up at 8:30. We start the day with a 'cuddle'--sitting in the rumpus room between At and Nu while they continue to wake up/tell me about their dreams from last night/plans for the day/random theories about Avatar or the world while Scout and Huck rotate for pets. This is truly the sweetest time in the day for me.

We start breakfast at 9 or there may be 'extensions' esp. as we're not allowed to get off the couch unless the clock is precisely at 9/9:05/9:10 etc. #RandomKidRules. After breakfast they're working on their projects and are technically on their own for lunch (usually leftovers or something microwaveable). I'll get visitors now and then and requests to play cards/watch a video/share some outrage especially if I work in the study, but the next time I see them could be at 4:30 when they're supposed to report to the kitchen to help me with dinner.

All this to say, the kids are quite low-maintenance for me right now, and I have *exactly* two months (we're supposed to start classes on August 24th) to make this time count for something.

Larger than they appear

The jumpy brown blob
(perpendicular to the top of my arch)

I thought baby frogs were tadpoles--I had no idea they could be juveniles this minuscule, but it turns out the internet knows all about them already. Not L and I this morning--we were surprised and incredulous and spent whole stretches trying to avoid squishing them accidentally.

Speaking of perspective and relative size, Bowdoin College appears to be taking a really interesting approach to Fall 2020 classes, with mostly just first years on campus. We're supposed to be forging ahead at Alma and it may yet all turn out ok--and I'm looking forward to 'normal' term especially as I miss my students and colleagues more than I usually do over the summer. But I was taken aback when KB asked--pointedly cutting through the fingers-crossed aspect of our planning--exactly how many deaths we were willing to suffer before we decide to move online. 

Over at Bon Appetit, Roxanne Gay talks about "cooking the bad news away." Or trying to, anyway. And yes, the privilege of it: "It is an immense privilege, and one I do not take for granted, having access to fresh food, having the money to buy it, having the leisure to track down ingredients, and the time to cook. I am overwhelmed by this privilege as I read the news each day, knowing that more than 22 million people are unemployed; that there are endless lines at food banks across the country; that people are getting sick and they are dying; and cities across the country are hampered by inadequate testing, no contact tracing, and an anemic federal response. It’s all too much, and feeling that way is also a privilege."

Pride (and no prejudice)

All real time Pride events have been canceled obviously, but I wanted to celebrate this June with my lovely, brave ones.

So some tea and presents--button pins, bowties, and bandanas. And it was such a small thing and so simple, but it just made them so happy.

I wished I could bake a cake made out of rainbows for all the kids. Ok. I can't resist a Mean Girls reference, but seriously--I saw father's day posts to estranged fathers from past students on FB that broke my heart. Just love the kids. Just love.

All together now

It was Father's Day, and it was happy.

Look at all these babies with their dada again!

Industry

The kids have begun curing herbs from their veggie plots and are hoping to make their own blends (I suspect watching Avatar made them crave tea again).

Breakfast was all excitement and getting me to dig out various empty jars so they could pick out two to store their putative product.

Here they've hung up bunches of peppermint and lemon sage (both of which came back from last year's plantings) in the tea garden because it seemed apropos. 😍

It's getting hot in here (SO HOT)

I've just embraced the non-AC-having, south-facing double-storied-windows-and-skylight having solarium as my personal beach: working on my tan, reading trashy novels, drinking cold drinks, and falling asleep in a sweaty heat haze. I guess it's not as hot as last summer because of the tarp over one skylight. which we're not fixing until next spring? I mean--I don't know if we'll get to a beach this summer. So I have some travel books up there too (Greece!). Sometimes I'll text the family chat to say, "at the beach--bring your books and drinks" and might get a kid or two to read with me for a while, but no one loves this sweaty lounge spot more than I do.


And yes--it always makes us chuckle that Nelly's transparent play to get women to take their clothes off has somehow been my (conservative, India-raised) mom's favorite summer song since At was a baby. But yes, it's a good idea to take off some clothes.

And it IS getting so hot--I was going to cook, but it turned out that we got some pizza from Art's instead.

All in a row

Red Cedar River
Are they on a field trip or something?

I'd looked forward to my massage all morning and luxuriated in the afterglow for the rest of the day. I'd been debating getting one on Monday (spas are part of Michigan's slow open this week) and then I pulled something during the yoga flow I've been doing for decades and that clinched it.

Also, it's our wedding anniversary! Perhaps sometime later this year, we'll be able to get away for our yearly 'honeymoon' trip, but not just yet. Big A and I made our wedding anniversary dinner and a big pitcher of margaritas together, Big A ordered us yet another cookbook (Jubilee by Toni Tipton-Martin), then one of our jokey family dinners, followed by our nightly two eps of Avatar. Things are getting tense in the Airbender's universe, and At and Nu gave me a severe warning about reading up on how it ends. They're in bed now; just saying.

"But different than the day before"

A birthday visit with a dear friend, some water and pruning for the office plants, and a big grocery shop yesterday; a heart-to-heart with the kids, lots of gardening, and Indian takeout today.

Every day a variation of the same.  I can almost hear Mr. McGee say:

"I was busy doing something close to nothing.

But different than the day before."

"The second best time is now."*

Friends went in on a Kousa Dogwood tree as a group gift for my March Fo(u)rth birthday. The birthday note said that they'd picked the Kousa Dogwood because--like me--it too is hardy, likes company, and is a late-bloomer. 😍

Last week, L took me to Horrocks and Van Atta's to pick out the perfect tree and this week, the kids helped me plant it.  Here it is! 

In the before times, we'd planned to have a second celebration with friends as we planted the tree, but it turned out to be just us.

Look at Nu go! (At, Scout, and Huck--also in this picture in various attitudes of repose--appear to be taking a break 🙄😂.)  

____________

*“The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now.” 

Pride

Our entryway Ganesha has been dressed for Pride month, and heartily approves of the SCOTUS ruling that LGBTQ+ people are protected against workplace discrimination under civil rights law. I think I really needed to hear some good news--I cried.


(This seasonal tradition started accidentally when our neighbor TB placed his hat on Ganesha's head when he came to dinner this winter [remember having people over for dinner in the before times?!]. Ganesha looked so debonair we immediately started dressing him up in seasonal garb. So far: Santa hat, New-Year party tiara, Valentine's Day Scarf, sequined St. Pat's-day hat, Easter bunny-ears headband, Memorial Day beads, and even a Corona mask.)

Respite

MSU Horticultural Gardens

Some quality rambles with L and Big A today, fixing the world's problems and some of our own...

It's getting really noisy and people-y outside and I was glad to be home when it was over.

Buried myself in books all day so I didn't have to be on FB or Twitter--

Yes, I'll have to catch up and educate myself... but pretty certain it'll all still be there tomorrow.

Wheels

 
Yesterday...
a socially distant biking hang with their neighborhood pal.









Today...
following dad onto the Peloton.

Faces, Places

Facebook has been killing me with these oldies. Seven years ago. Just seven... and we're back to At on the cusp of high school, Nu as five-year-old.

Here's what I wrote about them then: "That's not the victory salute for winning awards in English, Math, Science, and Art, becoming a member of the new model U.N., and moving on to high school. Nor is that the look of a kid who taught herself to read and count ALL THE THINGS at five and is moving on to first grade as the youngest member of her new classroom. It simply says: Watch out, world! Summer vacation's here!"

My loves are the best thing in my life. And I'm so blessed that they make time for each other, are mostly patient with each other, and always find something to obsess over together--working their way through Dr. Who or Avatar or Lego binges, or making up strategy games, or playing video games companionably side-by-side. (In my ideal world they'd be reading side-by-side, but I can't have everything.)

The pandemic has been harrowing in so many ways, but it did give me a chance to relive having all the kids in the same place all over again. That part was bliss.

Wait, Wait

Crane (?) at The Red Cedar rapids today.
At and Nu took turns insisting this was a "turkey"
over breakfast. Gales of laughter every time.
My little rascals.

The wait has been so long... and yet doesn't seem enough.

Things begin to open up at the start of next week.

I've been dying for a massage yet don't actually want to die for one?

A Long Way from Home/Normal/Ideal

 Big A is in front of the tree;
Nu and At are in the foreground...
for the kids, their first time out of the house since March!

NAACP march to the capitol today. We heard several stirring and compelling speeches; the youth speakers were especially impressive. I wish this time our momentum results in change that will support rather than punish BlPOC.

And I wish I could say it felt good after, but I came home and fell apart: I had a thunderstorm-induced headache, cried because an article had to be changed from MLA to Chicago style, and  couldn't even rouse myself to make dinner... At made grilled cheese for himself and Nu,  Nu fed Scout and Huck, Big A got some delivery, I ate a tub of colorful chips... everyone survived.

I feel like I did a A LOT of railing, crying, and whining (mostly to a very kind and listening Big A), and the kids seemed to play a lot of video games and sang a lot of "It's a long, long way to Ba Sing Se"--ostensibly to cheer me up.

Sketch-y

Commissioned a drawing of Big A and the kids for Father's Day (it's looming!). Love how in this sketch everyone looks racially ambiguous. Right? Or maybe I'm just being fanciful. Not to suggest my multiracial babies automatically embody equality or possibility, but they're lovely beings. Mostly intentionally.

Spent most of yesterday and today in FYS planning workshops--twice the usual work to do since we have to plan for several contingencies and just two months to do it all...

And now I have to go write a kind note to the colleague who said that they had been "g*pped" and hope they take it the right way and didn't already use that kind of language around students.

Quiet Koan

M. U. M. Day

The kids declared today M.U.M. Day (Make-Up-Mother's Day) since I'd been in quarantine last month and didn't have a particularly good Mother's Day. I believe I even called it the worst mother's day ever (you know me).

There was tea and oatmeal (extra brown sugar and pistachios!) waiting for me when I got back from my morning hike, and cards and "Wobbly" who can be a pet or a necklace (or both!).

There was high tea in fancy hats later and lots of cuddles all day.

Best (and first) M.U.M. Day ever. (And I got to disengage from the world for the day.)

Toughness

I'm flailing at everything today. Hope others are doing better. 

Sending Zen

MSU Japanese Garden

Early morning light, raked gravel, a linden tree coming into bloom twenty or so feet away.

Best thing I remember today.

The world is a mess, everyone at home is sad, but we're all doing small things, and many minds are changing. I hope our world can change too.

Round and Round

The day began with what we thought looked like a sky smile (you can see it better if you kinda squint a little like we used to have to in the olden times with magic eye pictures).

Lots of work through the day including the hard work of discussing Robin DiAngelo's White Fragility with colleagues at my PWI.


I ended the day by making really, really pretty bowls of poke for dinner. It was my 'Boss Day' so the kids helped extra, and shelled all the edamame, grated the veggies, and shredded the nori. All this despite being tired (Nu) and stressed (At--from his thesis). So much love.

We have been watching two eps of Avatar: The Last Airbender (free on Netflix RN) after dinner--like it's a prescription. I've watched the show passively before--when At used to catch eps out of order on Nickelodeon in the oughts and then again when Nu rediscovered it via At's DVDs a few years ago. But this is really my first time paying attention to the dialogue.What a sweet show! And apparently we're not the only ones taking solace in this classic in these times of strange and change.  (Also, the kids seem to get a kick out of finding out the sanskrit origins of terms like "Agni Ki" and "Bumi" from me.) 

Moping

This is Scout's favorite "mope" position and today, he kept switching sides back and forth while Nu and I listened to Sue Monk Kidd's The Invention of Wings--something I've wanted to do since we fell in love with the radical Grimke sisters when we were reading Rad American Women A-Z five years ago. (Incidentally, while there have been lots of girl-centered hero books since, Rad American Women A-Z remains my favorite because of the way it centers social justice.)

When I'm not actively occupying myself with something productive  (good) or self-flagellating with the news (bad), I find I too am moping in various positions and locations like our Scout. 

Somethings

I'm uplifted by the green madness of everywhere; purified by the outrage and anger of everywhere.

I startle awake, heart pounding, at full alert, 3-4 times a night.

I am happy-proud our 12-year-old Nu gave $100 to the Minnesota Freedom Fund.

I dreamt I heard protestors chanting "no justice, no peace" on our street.

Out on the river, it feels like everything's normal.

(Although nothing is, really.)

The Doable

L and I found this quarter-sized painted rock by the river this morning. It was a pleasure to discover and sure to be a treasure for someone who needs something like this right now.

I took this pic to share with Nu so we too could leave something cheery for others on the road.

I love the simplicity of this piece, as it reminds me that things needn't be extraordinary to bring succor.

It is doable; I can do this much.

This month I want to focus on what I can do, and I want to do it.

Going High

Out with L after a long two weeks of quarantine and the light as we came out from under the dinginess of Beal St. bridge was... radiant.

I'm thinking of protestors all over the world and thanking them for their radiance too.

Childhood's fave cousin (now ideological opponent) sent pictures of angry protestors  to the cousin chat-group hoping all of us were safe. I affirmed our safety and added an arch statement about militarized police being the real problem.

And all he said in reply was how glad we he was that we were all safe.

I guess I'm the asshole now.