Steadying as we go

I could have sworn that when I took this picture, it was to mark a patch of leaves turning autumnal L and I were both remarking upon. We remembered TB's reassurance back in March, even as the pandemic pressed in, that at least the days would start getting longer post the vernal equinox. 

And now here we are post autumnal equinox: Dot, dot, dot... dun, dun, dun...

But actually, at this point in the day--all I can see here is golden sun and the budding promise of the day.

Poly

My trunk like that of a tree trumpets

unexpectedly where before it had been quiet

and out of breath

My hand blooms open like a nest

busy and persistent, becoming in niceness

and folding to stress

So Many Meetings

So Too many meetings, an eternal leap--just so 

But some things are useful; anyone could do this. 

They say I mean a thousand things--warning:

I may have cried about it and made it important

but it's just the spin of the world, a spell shortened.

Doubts nest together like spoons--they question

smarts or scope or if I'm dope. I'll fiddle with my 

mic, memorize hopes cresting the tip of prayer,

behind my curtain of tongue, my blanket of sleep

and an inevitably unreadable ticking to tomorrow.

(Here I am bundled up for sitting outside for hours in barely 60 degree weather, looking like a fool, and I kinda secretly love it.)

The one with the masks

Sunshine and puppies 

but also masks and distancing.

Eight + hours spent in the car

but also four hours of visiting

and lots of talks and talking

and smiling and sharing and handholding.

Time + travel have been weird and slippery

but I wish we'd visited sooner--

Also: I ate a Mexican pizza from Taco Bell. So many Desi and veggie friends were absolutely crushed that it's being retired and I'd never had it and didn't know what to think. Now I know; AFAIC, it can go.

Today will have to be about rest and prep and knowing Monday is coming.

Off

And we're off for the day, making the trip to Yellow Springs to see MIL who's had a few surgeries in the six months of the pandemic. Four hours there and four hours back, and the plan is to return home later tonight so we don't expose MIL to our germs or pick up icky hotel cooties ourselves.

(I've packed an extra change and puppy supplies, just in case!)

Underneath it all

 I wonder what Big A's grandmom, described in this NYT thing as "Louise Lasky, who operates the Teddy Bear Hospital of New City, N.Y." would think of this, as Nu has been doctoring teddy bears too: 

That's (1) a gift shop teddy (2) A sad teddy with their mask on (3) a happy teddy with bruises, an extra eye (and Nu's eyebrows!!). As Big A summarized on FB "When your child is talented, and spooky."

Today started off as too much and ended with the news of the loss of RBG, and then the texts and emails from sisters as we had lost one of our own/as though we'd lost one of our own. I think of her 80+ old body doing those 20 pushups a day and working with her trainer because she knew how much was at stake; I think of her making it possible for so many of us; I think of her learning and doing better when it seemed like she didn't immediately get it right... I wish her a peaceful rest and I wish all of us safe passage into a better world. I hope it comes soon.

A Day

 

Another day, another week of classes done, another Covid test in one of these tents with a very gentle health tech who thinks small colleges are doing better than the bigger ones around us. 

Another set of dinners delivered to new parents, two new babies met from a great distance, a chat in the sunshine with JG (it had gotten chilly and my coat was in the car, so she stood me in a spotlight of sunshine to warm me up), and a very hungry drive home. 

Got home, collected my household around me for hugs and leftovers for dinner.

Today is enough

I can't even seem to word why I'm so tired and defeated. Big A thinks my weltschmerz is creeping higher. Kids and work and volunteer work usually help to distract me, so I'm going to try that first, then if those fail--a walk, a nap, some reading.

Last week's picture of weeds, and native cone flowers, and a distracted monarch to remind me to go outside today.

Homing

The start of Week Four of the semester, and here I am getting home (while it's still light out even!) like some freakin' pandemic champion. School and class feel more manageable. I got corrected on ableist language by a student while lecturing, and responded without (too much) defensiveness, and consequently feel like a good person.

Back in the before times while we were hosting 4Fs (Fun Friday Film Fests) BS used to say that turning into our driveway made her feel like she was in a Studio Ghibli movie. I see bunnies, butterflies, deer, turkeys, geese, groundhogs, and chipmunks all the time, so--same girl, same!

Also, the kids find it hilarious that in some low-key way, I'm always expecting a pony to pop its head over the slatted side gate to say hello when I get home. (I've never had a pony in my life.)

Six Months; Six Words

indefinite night-day-night / no insight

(Six months since our stay-at-home order and a six-word memoir inspired by the NYT pandemic poetry piece.)

Golden

Nu had a social hang in our backyard, I had a few, Big A finished a grueling two-week set of shifts, we FaceTimed for an age with At, Nu and I flopped out companionably in various places around the house, we got caught up with laundry and homework (Nu) or laundry and grading (me), checked in with friends, pet all the new pandemic puppies on cousin chat, made tentative plans for a December reunion, and I made some pretty, pretty dinner plates.

The weekend was the warm embrace/calm space I needed it to be. 

Onwards. 

<Once more through the Sunday evening blues>

Portraits of the day

               

Morn                                  Noon                             Afternoon                 

               

                     (Baker Woodlot with LB)            (Our driveway with RM)            (Nemoke Trail with BS and C Bear)           

 

A Lot

There's been a lot of this all week--gray, grainy, grimy weather and consequently there's been a lot of basic, blah moodiness. 

I'm pretty proud of how we've managed to come through three weeks of in-person classes with no spikes in our Covid numbers; of my students who are journaling like champions; my Nu who seems quite businesslike in handling their own online learning... 

And yet, everything is simultaneously sad and difficult--and feels like a lot to handle. 

In today's virtual faculty meeting, my colleagues were mostly on mute and off camera (by request), and it just emphasized how I never see them in the hallways anymore. And then at the end... the retirement resolution for JG--who'd shown up to my job talk, befriended me the summer I moved to MI, has been mentor and sister and friend...  and it was too, too much. I went looking for someone to give me a hug and got some from Nu, Big, A and (of course!) Scout  + Huck. "Surrogate hugs" as I explained to JG--the renowned hugger--in a call later in the evening through a third or fourth round of tears.

I'm trying to remember that when I took this picture at the end of some long day this past week, I thought I could see glimmers and shafts of light--what Pix and I and other Sacred Heart School kids used to call "heavenly blessings" when we used to try standing in these sunlit spotlights before exams. I can barely see them in this picture, yet I know they were there. 

YTD

 

Badtime Story

Like siblings of yore on the landscape,

ribboned close always: rivers, railroads.

Playing--in plain sight, side-by-side, not hiding;

where you seek one--oh, look--there's the other.

Long, rowdy sibling things: one loud, one low--

now masked, now sparring--whatever--they are 

like pandemic warnings, insistent--more forlorn by the day:

I think I'm meant to mourn, and--following them--get away.

_________________

Note 1: We live between the river and the railroad, so I have lived experience of course; but this insight is from Krueger's This Tender Land.

Note 2: Toddler Nu used to pronounce the open e almost as a schwa eg. "Natflix" (for Netflix), "grat" (for great, which we still emulate for cuteness on family chat). 

Note 3: Things seem much quieter along the railroad these days--fewer goods traversing the continent or whatever--I don't know.

Note 4: I took this picture of the Red Cedar River last week; L claimed to be able to see hints of Fall.

A Glocal Conversation

The flags on the porches say a lot.

(Only in Alma!)

 

Talisman

When tongues tip to farewell

--fare well, fare wonderfully.

Like strangers, like heartbeat:

"Thank you for my childhood."

"Thank you for being my child."

* I tried to tell Scout this isn't yoga, but he just pouted.

A Little Love / Chorus (On)Line

wait and know the coming / of a little love ~ Carl Sandburg

Beginning is quiet

a blink, a tap, then waking

our eyes, the screen, and yearning

I think about people 

we used to know, used to date   

how we lost them to love and--fate  

How we used to see them 

now and then in waning memories / 

when tagged in other people's new stories.

I hug care's sharp blade

through tongue and thoughts

histories, our hearts; hear it whistle

where they're not, no return

Why? Asking did the virus happen--

Are they ghosts? Are they ghosting?

Beginning

 

Today's quiet beginning--the Red Cedar River, someone's rock cairns, a blue heron waiting by the rapids, the solid comfort of L's footfall, patience, and advice by my side...

The rest of the day was gloriously kid-centered--only fair as I hadn't seen At all week, and actually--hadn't seen much of Nu all week between breakfast and dinner. The 21-year-old and the 12-year-old have been busy in the first weeks of school... as have I.  I did a ton of stuff before 10 am, including conferencing with a colleague about a new course. Then Nu and I drove up to Alma, bringing At's (delayed) Boss Day presents and treats with us. We met At at the MUN House and took a walk away from campus, each of us taking turns to call out which way we should head next. Then back-hugs and presents, and declarations of love. And love.

Nu and I headed to the new bookstore helmed by D whom we loved as our pastor when we used to go to Mt. Pleasant UU. And we visited, and congratulated, and browsed, and bought a pile of books. Then on to the antique store next door where I found a few bird-themed tchotchkes and Nu found old teddy bears (Big A's grandmother Louise--whom Nu never met--used to run a teddy bear hospital, so I find Nu's attention to teddies especially endearing). Then a conversation at the store with D and J  about their child K--an old student--and all three of us fittingly so happy and proud of her grad degree and the important work she's doing. One more stop to drop off a present for Nu's friend K and then finally back to Lansing. 

But wait! There's more! Nu actually has another outdoor playdate later in the evening--watching the new Mulan outdoors at a friend's place, and I drop them off. For the first time in months, Nu is not at home when I am. Next stop, I zoom to a virtual retirement party for J and M, and after an hour and half of stories and memories, I get choked up saying goodbye, although there's no way J and I won't be friends for a few more decades at least. 

And then after the nonstop social rush of the day, the absolute loneliness of the evening hits me. At is at college, Nu at M's, Big A napping before his night shift, Scout and Huck napping alongside him and not even caring about dinner time...  

Then the puppies wake up, and I feed them. And Big and I settle in with leftovers (the remains of the coconut soup and pao he'd made for my Boss Day yesterday!) to watch the first ep of Raised by Wolves--which is terrifying. I keep exclaiming about my heart thumping so hard--until Big A reaches for my wrist, counts my pulse, and tells me I'm fine. I'm so not. Doctors are so literal. Haha. 

Now to stay awake until it's time to pick up my Nu...

At politics

I haven't seen At for a few days now, so I loved being able to see him in this tongue-in-cheek "Anti-Union PSA" video he made for his YDSA's Labor Day activity. 

<happy+proud face><happy+proud face><happy+proud face><happy+proud face>

(Also, campus looks deserted!)

From hamsters to home...

 The wishing station at Nu's old school has so many 5th and 6th grade dreams blowing in the wind. 

One dreams of hamsters, another dreams of a cure for Covid, some others for a room of their own, or a home.

I worry the enforced isolation of the pandemic has fostered--for me at least--a culture of focus on the self and family and less involvement in community building projects.

I Get By with a Little Help (Part 75430876)

LB and TB gave me this card and a giant vase of yellow roses at the start of the school year, and I keep the card in my office for a little pick me up. 

I AM *trying* to have a good school year despite the obvious pandemic, and so many people are helping. I can't think of a single person (work or home) who has refused me help. 

And yet, it's difficult for me to ask.

AHHH

The card accompanying KB's sticker says I should scream inside of my heart. Haha.

All things considered, today was pretty ok...

But a scream is probably building...

Secret garden

Nu told me they loved The Secret Garden at the beginning of our pandemic spring (the modest India references and the secretive Mary as much as the garden itself, I suspect). That has had me planning and planting in our semi-courtyard for months now. At not only built that little bench, but helped with much of the hard landscaping as well.

Today, on the last day of August, it was time to get a picture. 

Nu is in it--way, way back in the corner. 

Growing Up

Today's picture (snapped just outside the Japanese Garden at MSU) is a giggle and reminds me of a baby version of a medieval penis tree.  I haven't grown up, clearly.

Nu had agreed to participate in the UU youth group's year-long 'Coming of Age' program, and yesterday's welcome ceremony was poignant.  There was a particular moment in the ceremony where the facilitator went around the Zoom screen family by family--with the child saying "Thank you for my childhood" and the parent(s) saying "Thank you for being my child." Gulp. 

Nu will be a teenager in less than two months.

My reminder

(Today's picture is from Baker Woodlot. The skinny sapling with the pink tree tag reminded me of Aunt P who would make a knot in her sari or tie something to her wrist as a reminder to complete a task she was afraid of forgetting.)

An early morning hike with B (we hit Radiology Gardens, Baker Woodlot, MSU Arboretum, the Children's Garden, AND the Horticultural Gardens) and then a ramble with L and TB (on the campus river path); EM's birthday Zoom charades party; phone dates with SD and cousin P; a long multi-person call with the Bangalore part of the family (dad's birthday is tomorrow). 

Also, monitoring student responses to online assignments online; different kinds of advising emergencies; making peace between student groups; and updating files.  

And that doesn't begin the chronicle of other weekly tasks (plants! cleaning! garden! food prep!) that have piled up.

If I'm not careful, I can see weekends becoming overcrowded and unrestful. I must find a way to coral the work stuff and spread out the housekeeping over the week.

No more sunshine

The relief of having survived the first week of classes (has there ever been a semester when 'survived' had such literal significance?) is clouded by today's relentless rain.  It means no hike with L, whom I haven't seen all week. Also, there's still a lot of catch up and online prep to accomplish before weekend mode.

As I get busy, a picture of last week's 'sunflower with three busy bees' for motivation. 

 

Got that look

I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm fine.

Feeling like everything from 2 through 12 is normal. Right?

(Full teaching day; have to talk really loudly through my mask; feel bad about having to remind students about masks sometimes; but I think we're beginning to get to know each other, yay; dropped off At's kettle bells and got a hug; went home to dinner already on the table thanks to Big A; Nu seemed to have managed the first full day of online school okay; kiddie cuddles from Nu and puppies; a binge of Indian Matchmaking with Big A; and so to bed.)

First School Day

I mean to write of pomegranates 

and roses in fairytales, how even

the pierce of your stare is a star.

You my child, have been puppies, tigers,

bees, snakes, and a praying mantis. You

say, today's animal: "sickly Victorian boy."

So pearlescent with scattered energy

stay stationed in understories of care 

and humming to the surface, beyond

yes--the press of your face on my shoulder

but holding fast like the ink-paint-print-stain 

koans growing on your arms for years. 

Today's (s)log

Yesterday's picture, and a tiny today update. 

Met all my classes; my students seem lovely! My international students patched in via video, and that went ok too. I am grieving the loss of classroom intimacy--video, masks, distancing, and having to sit in rows instead of a circle are all messy. But I get it--and I think we'll get through it. 

Got to meet At before afternoon classes to pass on some freezer staples, I and was chuffed to see he had two masks and long sleeves on. Yay! I walked him back to his house and got a "back hug" as he turned to get the stairs. Seeing At made me so happy.

My last class ended late and then I headed to a socially distant picnic at the president's house for our new MFA director. Both of them have worked really hard on the program even through the strangeness of the summer, and I was happy to celebrate with them. But the sun had set by the time I drove home--another reminder this summer is ending. Luckily, I had a long conversation with JG to keep me company in the car. 

Back home, I discovered that L had dropped off some of Nu's favorite brownies and a ton of snacks as a back-to-school treat for Nu (they start tomorrow). My Nu was already in bed, but I was told they lovvvvvvvved me when I snuck in for a goodnight kiss. And then Big A woke up, and we had a teensy dessert-date chit-chat (me with Nu's brownies, Big A with the leftovers of the Culver's from his and Nu's dinner) before he headed off to work. I'll be sleeping with Scout and Huck tonight.

On a day that refuses to end

My evenings are survivors

carrying--valiant as ants--

relics of their fallen friends.

They see me turn muddy, as I 

drink me (60% water, baby)

You'd think I am called grief.

I'm keeping an eye out for you  

yearning for you for when you 

are already inside (my head) 

First Day

Yesterday's Hawk Island hike with SS was magical. I came away with book and movie recommendations and the idea that I'm not the one who gets to decide who reads my stuff. Of course, I tell students this all the time, but I need to hear it too, sometimes.

Today was my first day back in the classroom since March. Yes, it's Sunday, but that's when the first-years start this year. My first-day jitters were keener than usual, but once back in the classroom, things settled into the usual. 

I don't think I have everyone's names yet as I usually do. Masked, even people I already know are hard to recognize; memorizing the names of new students when half their faces are out of view is going to be quite a challenge. Bless everyone who smiles with their eyes and nods in class.

Quieting

This lush, deciduous forest all around me, so vibrant-green and teeming with birdsong in the Baker Woodlot--although I'm never more than a mile from busy roads and traffic. 

My temptation to marvel at the richness of the canopy has to be balanced with the need to pay attention to my path crisscrossed with wayward roots and embedded rock. I look up for beauty, I look down for safety.

What lies ahead is revealed only in small glimpses. But...  my feet are on the path and I remember that the path has worked before. It can lead me from the cool breaths of solitude back into the warmth of messy but eager life. When I am ready.

Senior moment

Every year I keep expecting it to get easier when At heads to college. But it doesn't. It was awful that first year. And the second. And OMG, the third was a real sucker-punch.

The big difference is that At is now so like a grownup (I mean--he IS 21), and our dynamic has shifted enough that I don't have to try to hide my sadness anymore. I just embrace my old, needy mama role. 

He was dawdling over breakfast while I watered plants and I was sharing that I wasn't sad because of him leaving in the pandemic even--just sad about him leaving; how I had expected it to get easier; and who knows what next year might bring--again not because of the pandemic but because of grad school etc. and how far away THAT might be. He was so sweet, listened with empathy, and hugged me so tight--and I had myself a good (great!) cry. 

We packed his car together but then it wouldn't start. If it is possible for a face to both light up and fall at the same time, I think my face may have. But At was able to jump start it and proudly used to it reassure me of how he's a capable champion at life and then he set off for senior year.  💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

Nu and I had a sleepover in the rumpus room with Scout and Huck because, that's how we've been distracting ourselves since year one. 🤗 🤗 🤗 🤗 

Alright; Back to school

Lots of chronologically fixed and geographically immovable chores today--as in I had to show up at precise times to specific places and do stuff (pick up Nu's school supplies, check out my classroom tech, get COVID-tested, and lots of etc.). I felt so much anxiety driving to work (and every Trump sign spiked it/spooked me). 

Anyway, I had lots of new cuttings and plants with me since it had been months since I was last in my office, and I assumed my office plants wouldn't have made it. But they had all taken advantage of my overwatering the last time, and  although they looked so sad, they had survived. Yay! I supplemented some of the emptier looking planters, and then I had plenty left to make a nice welcome gift for a new colleague.

I picked up the college-issued safety kit from my mailbox and it had some very useful supplies (Alma plaid mask, thermometer for our mandatory daily health reporting, etc.) though obviously, the hand sani and anti-bac wipes aren't going to last very long. 

The COVID testing was weird, uncomfortable, overly intimate, and ugh. Earlier today, L had said that if she had to get tested every day as the White House staff supposedly does, she'd turn in her resignation. I chortled at that--"Yeah, L;" I teased: "THAT would be the reason YOU wouldn't work with this administration."

Back to School Party

At goes back to college on Friday and Nu starts school (online) on Monday, so it was time for my little monsters to have their annual back-to-school party. 

I made a playlist to share with them; they got some loot--a clean-start calendar, chakra stones to keep under their pillows, essential oils to boost immunity, lucky bamboo for the rest of 2020, water bottles for hydration (listed like that, I can see I skewed pandemic new-agey there!); and got pampered with facemasks and a mama pedicure while they watched a movie. 

All they had to do was pick out dinner and a movie. The dinner pick was easy-peasy (mint chicken), but picking out a movie took some time. They cycled through Ten Things I Hate About You and Clueless and Mean Girls and Napolean Dynamite and School of Rock. 

And then they began to improvise--Inglorious Basterds? I mean he taught Hitler A LESSON." Hahaha. I love my babies. They finally settled on Monsters University. 

Treasure

B dropped this jewel of a blanket off on the front porch for me today. I don't know what I did to deserve it. I rightly don't even know if this is knitting or crochet. I just know that it is absolutely beautiful and it must have taken hours on hours of work and love to make.

When I called Nu to see it, they thought something was wrong because I looked a bit shellshocked--I think I am, actually. I've known B as a student, colleague, and friend, but this new iteration as sister might be the best one yet. 

All the work and enough play

Scout gets so much love just being Scout! I'm not that lucky, so I have to work hard to make sure people are happy with me. 

But I worked so super hard today, I'd accomplished all the work stuff that needed to get done. And it was just 2:00 pm. I'd even managed to email all my students AND advisees AND independent scholars in a serious yet supportive way (or so I hope). 

That was the point at which I decided I deserved a massage. Big A was grilling for dinner, so I managed to bag an appointment with someone new, and off I went. 

I made it back in time for icy lemonade and coconut-y tomato gravy and dinner jokes. Long after everyone went back indoors, I hung out by myself listening to distant traffic, taking snapshots (memory/camera) of the sky, and pulling together songs for a 2020 playlist. 

Discoveries

Walk-and-talks with At and Nu (frequently up and down our driveway) are full of insights, jokes, and discoveries, but I guess we didn't expect actual physical discoveries like this mossy rock just off the path.  Was it always here? How did we not see it?

Here on the magic rock, is my little woodland Nu dappled in sunlight and lost in thought (they're very into plague doctor philosophy and aesthetics right now).

Another discovery: the story "Amma" by Sindya Bhanoo in Granta, not just set in my hometown of Chennai, but IN MY SCHOOL! OMG.

Mid-August Notes

It's India's Independence Day and today's dinner is supposed to be reminiscent of the flag (maybe you have to squint a little bit?). I'm not a fan of the ethnostate India is under Modi, and I miss-miss-miss old-style India-day "unity in diversity" celebrations.

It was Fall term prep all day over here. Also, locking down meetings next week in my calendar helped--instead of holding hazy, all-day items in my head, I now have specific times and that's doing wonders for my general sense of preparedness and well being. 

I kept getting adorable texts all morning from bestie KB and mock called her out for procrastinating via text message. Then I went off on a tangent myself and did some editor-stuff for the current issue of Jaggery (needed to be done, but not right now). At least it got done?  I did a ton of other more normal procrastination as well, putting stuff in various online shopping carts and re-watching a few eps of Veep.

Tick-Tock

Outside at the picnic table (it's sad the playset it came with stayed behind two whole houses ago) my parents gave us when Nu was a toddler. 

The weather is perfect and the days are golden, and... At goes back to college in exactly one week.

In preparation for the goodbye, I binged Watchmen with At, which meant I had to watch a recap of the Alan Moore graphic novel and have At telling me every hour or so that Alan Moore is an anarchist and pointing out anarcho-stylistic elements I missed. I have no doubt that in two weeks I'll be thinking of this fondly as "good times." 😝

Love looks like...

I had to take Big A to the hospital today, and it freaked me out, so I'm posting something from a draft earlier this week.

----------------------------------------------

It is Big A's great basement reshuffle of 2020 (part 65 or something like that) and the raggedy ghouls who used to go up on the driveway in the days of Halloween parties past have neatly been hung up. 

I mentioned yesterday that I found their faces very creepy when I'm down there, and today I found that happier decorations--hearts and pumpkins, easter eggs and orbs--have completely blocked off the scary stuff.  😍 😍 😍 😍 😍 😍 😍 

Snare

I can start pushing the sticks and stones away from my bones

when I pull the sorries out of you another after an other 

like a magician's set of knotty scarves

Hey! There's so much time, there's time till the end of time

Let's hope you get there still improvising your innocence

fucker, the deadline went yesterday

Anthropo(s)cene

At and I found this bird's nest by the bike shed on our walk-and-talk on Monday. It seems quite late anthropocene in style, with bubble wrap woven into its construction! 

Actually, we've had a bit too much nature in the house. Last night we found a bat in our bedroom and then later--(another? the same?) one in the library. We couldn't find them this morning, though. I even doused rooms in mint essential oils and played high-frequency recordings, to no avail. Then as I woke from a nap this evening, I noticed a bat roosting about five feet away from me between two beams. We opened the front door and encouraged it to leave, and it did after endlessly stupid loops all around the living room and kitchen.

Maya

It was in Chennai that grandmother first died, many years ago
so it's surprising she is here today, her words pleating
back and forth with mine

Wanting ghee-fried bakery bread topped with three sugars
Walking slow slow as though ready to change 
her destination at any time

Then lullabies are on the radio; she sings to her five babies 

(and the infant son who came and went

so quick after my mother).

In her lap, my toddler mother had tried to console her, said: 

"Don’t cry mama, or see--all your face powder  

will wash away

and oh, everyone will know your skin is as black as Kali's."

A hand on the cheek is tender, yet cousin to a slap,

darkened heads fold into armpits like birds.

Skies blur red as if we break open every night--they're lost 

in other stories, arguments--I'll listen for a while, 

before I can open my eyes.

Pizzzzzzzzaaaaaaaa

We were all looking forward to Big A's pizza at dinner--handmade, made-from scratch crust, homemade sauce, personalized toppings, and all. But while the kids were showing me a video essay on D.B.Cooper (wild, that!), Big A popped in and sheepishly asked if I could help him with something.

"How do you turn on the oven?" Kind of the cliche-est of man questions, but not really as our oven has a multi-step process involving dials and several buttons--a process I'm liable to forget myself without regular practice. So I started to breezily and oh-so-cockily show him--but umm... nothing. The panel wouldn't respond at all; the ovens just wouldn't turn on. So much for my lady-expertise.

So here we are, all lined up at the counter,  getting ready for Big A's newly-invented, cast-iron griddle fired, stovetop pizza. 

And it was delicious. 

One-Way: 8/∞

It seems days move only one-way

away/anyway 

My shadow is mingled with flowers

ohhh whore/for hours

It will be difficult to go home after

now/noon/no

I have caught madness and sunshine 

in the air/in my hair

And all my machines are dying--even paper 

even pen/pain

Small feelings

Small feelings

Lenses

I was a bit skimpily dressed for my meeting--something I realized only as I was actually logging into the meeting and got the camera preview, so I threw on a scarf I fortuitously found stuffed between the couch cushions. There's no AC in the upstairs library, so it was super uncomfortable, but obviously not as uncomfortable as 'office' inappropriateness.

My selfie (after the meeting) came out with old family pictures perched over my shoulder; I appreciated the notion of mom and aunts figuratively having my back as I undertook a South Indian dosa fest for dinner (dosas, sambhar, chutney, chick*n varuval, and the mandatory potato-peas stuffing). Let the record show that today's dosa yearnings were brought on by the "Don't Mind if I Dosa" episode of Padma Lakshmi's delightful series Taste the Nation on Hulu.

Break

A low-energy day--I didn't even get out for my afternoon walk with Big A. We did what we call a Downton (walking around our own grounds à la  Downton Abbey, haha). And then I made a clear-out-the fridge ragout for dinner as my Imperfect box arrives tomorrow.                                                                                                                                                  We're in a shameful place that all the world sees; that's true. But today I needed McSweeney's to laugh in my face at the idea of making sense. Not to pile on people sending kids to camps, but if you're up for for a self-deprecating laugh along, Carlos Greaves compares children's activities in the pandemic to reopening Jurassic Park: "Given these great stats, I think it should be pretty clear to everyone that reopening the Jurassic Park Academy for Young Paleontologists this fall is the right move. Sure, a few kids have been mauled this summer at our popular sleep-away camp, Camp Triceratops. However, a hands-on learning environment that comes with hiking throughout our vast preserve remains an invaluable experience for the kids — an experience that far outweighs the occasional mauling. Plus, keep in mind that children are far less likely to be killed by velociraptors, mostly because they are too small and bony to make for a satisfying velociraptor meal."

The Other Side

These signs mandating face coverings on MSU's campus (indoors and outdoors!) have just popped up: I'm so happy to see them; I'd be so much happier if all the panting runners and cyclists would wear masks already. 

In other news, while waiting for my 11:00 am meeting to start, I snatched about 40+ minutes to do some work on a writing project and that felt really, really, really good. 

I didn't get a lot done, and I definitely didn't get great work done, but I got started! I'm glad I didn't let the lack of scheduled time or the fact that that the clock wasn't precisely aligned at the top of the hour throw me off (this is a ridiculous but real procrastinating trigger for me and has been since grade school days). A good lesson to remember for tomorrow if our departmental meeting goes on for longer than planned and I have some magic minutes before my noon meeting. 

And I'm getting in some sustaining one-on-one time with the human kids--the alternating walk-talks have hit a rhythm and I watched a couple of good movies--Misery with At the Stephen King fan and Never Let me Go with Nu who at 12 read the Ishiguro novel last month. (Yes, bragging; sorry! Byeee.)

Building

At what point does a row of bad days become a bad week? 

It feels like I'm busy all the time yet progress I can measure seems infinitesimal and ephemeral. 

I need the heuristic spirit of those who artfully build/balance these cairns in the Red Cedar. 

My focus and karma for now must be action not reason; the work itself, not the outcome.