And apropos of yesterday, I want to remember how the thought of going to the interview without seeing L made me so panicky... L is everything I imagined the USA to be, and I'm lucky the universe brought me to her in 2016, the most disconsolate point of my American dream.
When we returned home, LB and TB brought over apple pie with "USA" pricked into it... We were all crying in the driveway, and L said the NYT said it was ok to hug, so could we hug? But I'm just around so many people every day, I didn't think it would be good for her.
The very kind agent said the swearing-in wasn't likely to be before the election. But MI has same-day registration, and a girl can hope.
Every night quakes lightly
--like childhood's laughter.
Quick, give me a new thing
to see--yes, you, so beautiful
to me. America,
you're breaking
me.
______________________________________________
Earthquake dreams, deadlines, fears, news, OMG.
But the memory of a snuggle with this scaly giant yesterday, the card and chocolate-chip cookies BS dropped off, and the proliferating heart emojis via text will keep me going...
But look at this beauty, LB and TB in the distance, and Nu and Big A further down the street fast asleep in their beds... (not pictured!!)
Time to go back and give it another go!
(Have been in class/in meetings/on calls/on the couch all day today.)
So I walked over to At's (I'd just been thinking I hadn't seen him since Nu's birthday... and writing that I realize it's been less than a week, but it has been a long week!). He tried the door too, but nothing. So we made the call, and Big A got on the road to bring me the spare key, Nu in tow since it was dark and I didn't want Nu to be home by themselves. (Big A initially demurred about having to drive all the way, and I was instantly mad thinking about all the times I drove into NYC with little At and Baby Nu to get him after a late shift at Bellevue. But he quickly did the right thing, and no one got yelled at. Ha.)
So an hour till reinforcements arrived, and my sweet At offered to feed and water me and sit with me on the MUN House porch (outsiders aren't allowed into student housing to minimize Covid exposure) to keep me company. But I was too keyed up, so I asked if we could walk around, and borrowed some socks from At, and we did. I kept telling him he should go back to work on the delayed deadlines and midterm extensions, but we kept walking and talking, and then Nu and Big A were there, and there was a teensy family reunion in the Heritage Parking Lot.
I'm all over Fall (yay!)
I'm all over Fall (blah)
Fall is all (almost) over
It's Fall everywhere.
I fall everywhere.
(I cycle through all this; yesterday's picture from Baker Woods.)
From any direction
I try to meet you,
you greet me.
We hold hands,
"la biss" kiss-
kiss, kiss-kiss.
There was a time when all
I had to do was simply turn
if I wanted to see you or play.
Do you ever yearn for when
we were fed from just one
plate--no yours, no mine?
To sleep together, curling like
vines? Discuss how parting
our twin beds, sending them
to opposite walls was painful
(almost as if conjoined twins
beginning surgery, separation).
My room now--though bright
feels dim and scribbled over,
continents and years crawl
over--what I fear--were last
visits. Lost keys, lost locks,
oh--the stitches come loose.
If I am not an island,
how can I swim to you?
I am now just a body
of water surging,
my eyes growing
round as our earth.
I am come to an age with
endings coiled inside me.
The pandemic's parting gift,
a gift of parting, is the empty
vision unfolding, trying to return
to decisions I made decades ago.
(I know)
hours are not the apocalypse
(imagine)
I search their mists and dusts
for security
composting fair warnings
once again
I have searched the horizon
where sun blinks
this day into some montage
of time-lapse
*Extra Huckie hugs*
I told my dream to Nu and we marched up to Big A and informed him that we needed a third puppy.
(I love how my brain braids things--I wonder if "Hank" is because I spent time with JL's "Henry" last weekend and "Hank" is a form of "Henry" but sounds a bit like "Huck?")
I presume a four-leaved clover is the "symbolic/ Leaf" Glück is looking for here? Here's At's hand holding some luck he made himself: A four-leaf clover engineered with spit--he told me he tried sweat first, but it didn't hold. (circa 2008, SD's outdoor wedding in DC; Baby Nu in the stroller.)
I've loved this poem for years and am so happy for Louise Glück's Nobel--poets so rarely get big prizes; but are there non Eurocentric writers who are being overlooked? Absolutely.
Today, I received logo-ed masks from the KCP program (King-Chavez-Parks, baby!) and will wear them everywhere with pride.
So I'm coming back, I'm coming, I
run rabbit tongue 'neath rabbit teeth.
Sift half a laugh through salty hands.
Lift away grand new memories, but
only say: So-sorrySo-sorrySo-sorry.
Remember when I traveled--was it last
winter--and you said I'm with you, but
you aren't me, never will be. I still bring
prayers to this plague. Will sing through
whispering airways: O-stayO-stayO-stay.
_
After all, when Big A came home from work looking kinda tired, I asked (sincerely) if he wanted me to butter his muffin...
Then At wished us a happy Mean Girls Day on family chat and we remembered... Nu thought we should watch it after dinner... and so we did.
The WH Covid superspreader events and all their painful consequences were always so preventable--that part really bothers me. Thousands of people could have been alive today... Maybe we could even have been headed back to the old normal...
Also on the radio--I heard Allie Brosh sob and I wonder if her new book is maybe too sad for me RN, but there's a sweet chapter up at her old blog.
But I got to see At for a bit--both of us masked--and give him a 'backhug' and a (new to him) Du Bois for his Boss Day (tomorrow); a small but affectionate pre-class chat with my mom; knowing I will see NuScoutHuck in minutes...
Then a leg of this rainbow (such an intense VIOLET!) and a go-go-go green light--and there's a definite feeling of "yes" in the air.
But that day was not today. By 9:00 am I had already been in two meetings, and between regularly-scheduled meetings, a CASA-training webinar, student conferences, and a faculty-wide caucus, the intensity continued until 5:00. Sometimes I had to use two monitors to juggle my overcommitments.
But the spoooooky syllabus (Culture and the Supernatural) for the second seven-week course set to start next week is all done!
And while on reading--this article on ambiguous loss (from earlier in the year, but I found it just last week) really helped me.
In the beginning lives
a first flicker of flame
that lick of loneliness
lighting an underworld.
The sky may be still
dark with our leaving
life, it is difficult--all
tall ideas, left as yes.
When they're hidden, I can use other signs and senses to make sure they're ok.
I trust they'll be able to make the right decisions when I'm too far away to help--moving away from strangers, stepping off the path when necessary.
It helps that they stop when the path forks, wordlessly discussing the way forward with me.
All of this made me quite anxious.
All of this made me very happy.
__________________________
I chaired the WGS sessions of the MASAL conference from home; finalized the WLC second-seven week course syllabus; worked on Nu's birthday plans; hiked with L; practiced saying "fiddly," "wobbly," and "stodgy" in preparation for watching GBBO later in the evening... Full day.
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.
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 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.)
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.
(I've packed an extra change and puppy supplies, just in case!)
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.
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.
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.
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.)
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.)
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.
--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.
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?
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...
<happy+proud face><happy+proud face><happy+proud face><happy+proud face>
(Also, campus looks deserted!)
another day rolls over into tomorrow I wake, roll over in bed reach for my phone wondering if ...
