newcomer

 

our day is burning,
silence like smoke

light seems machine
in interim and enters

anyway, opens the door
to our histories of hope

in arrival--we are blessed
death is certain someday 

we get to live out survival
tithing... tiny happinesses 

what's going on

I don't get it.

Is hand-washing a group activity now? Why does Sparty look so horrified? Is it because there's a ghostly Sparty in the background? Why is he peeping out from behind the bushes? Is he required to wash people's hands for them? 

Help me, MSU.

a two-hike kinda day

I needed TWO hikes today.  

First was the usual one with L, getting to the MSU gardens just as the sun was beginning to skim the tops of the waterlilies and set off the frogs like blobby, plopping fireworks. 

Later, I managed to somehow ruin the stove when some lentils boiled over. Now I wouldn't be able to make the raw mango dal, a summer staple from my childhood. I made do by microwaving the chunks of mango and adding it to some canned cannellini beans. A heaping spoonful of turmeric, the tadka I'd made earlier, and a good potato masher... and I could imagine it came from a kitchen long, long ago untouched by canned beans, a potato masher, or a microwave. L showed up like a lifesaver bearing an electric skillet she had in her basement, and I used it to make aloo parathas later. 

I'm glad I made it to Ted Black Woods with BS after all that. The woods were lovely and deep--as was talking to B. I needed that.

(L doesn't mask outdoors, B does; I am ok taking my cues from whatever my companions are comfortable with now.)

what's up

Behind me, Nu and L are intently listening to our neighbors give them a crash course in raising chickens. I guess what's up... really is chicken butt (and a significant amount of chicken poop). 

It seems like a A LOT of work, but Nu and L are determined to make it work. I've already politely excused myself from from mucking out the chicken coop, which will live in L's yard. I guess I'd feed the little babies whenever there's no one else to do it. 🐣🐥

"food for thought"

 

The wonderful ladies of "Food for Thought Book Club" down by the Red Cedar River in LB's backyard...

Vaccinated, unmasked, outdoors. 

I handled it.

I *enjoyed* it.

I'd forgotten how lovely communal joy can feel...

sorry...

I have to go. Someone loves me very, very, very much, and I need to go pay them attention.

(Oh. Also: In a post-pandemic first, Big A and I rode our goofy tandem bike downtown and got a pitcher of margaritas at a new--to us, anyway--restaurant.)

interlude

I found this fellow at the waterlily pond in the horticultural gardens today. The colors here remind me of the first edition cover of Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things--which At is reading (for the first time) currently. I hope he likes it...

Decades ago, I used to find it impossible to love anyone who didn't like Roy's novel. 

I'm so much mellower now. 

minding the gap

I think about this a lot; and I feel a lot of guilt and sadness. The panic some of my school friends in India are feeling about their kids being ineligible for vaccinations (because too young and thus unprioritized in the face of vaccine shortages) hurts even though I can access vaccines for my own kids.

I'm also dismayed--“In an interconnected world, none of us is safe until all of us are safe.”

my *every*thing people

 The fam does their thing. 

🏡🏕

Also: we watched Tim Robinson's I Think You Should Leave over a year ago at least, and we're still using so much of its dialogue as a shorthand for family jokes.

reentry

This green in the woods felt unreal as we stepped in... so bright and lovely, it almost felt... fake? 

My post-pandemic--or at least post-vaccination--reentry experience has felt similar. Each decision and action--though intentional and deliberated--feels fraught and uncanny. My calendar is slowly filling up with long-awaited events, but I consider and reconsider and second-guess everything for ages.  

But that's probably for the best. Today I (zoom) attended the feminist book club after a hiatus. I remembered that the last time I was here, I bolted because I had a mystery panic attack. 

As EM said earlier today, it's "weird to be around other people." Even for me--living with a lovely houseful and having taught in person all year long--agoraphobia seems to manifest every time I consider an event/interaction/outing. Yesterday I hiked with Big A and didn't wear a mask. I had been persuaded by pronouncements that outdoor transmission is highly unlikely (+ did not want to stand out like a freak). But it took some stern talking to myself. And even admitting I enjoyed being maskless outdoors feels odd somehow. But I did, so there. 

At's graduation redux!

At is in graduation robes again, the sibs are wearing ties, we got grandparents and family on FaceTime/WhatsApp...

It was a bit chaotic and didn't go completely as planned, but this international photoshoot is the closest we're getting to a graduation party this year.

out in the world

The right to be angry, be anechoic...
Cool: a quiet, erotic, irate interval
Do you know what that was about?

Am I willful? Were you not warned
of fracture and ephemera and erasure
What if I expunged my loud laughter--

Would you still call me an emergency?
Would you call me into queer songs
fold me into arms, siblings-in-arms?

If not, why do we come here then?

Can we only come through like pain

--or can we walk into welcome again?

[Pic: Patch of blooms--from yesterday. Today is cold and rainy and I got into my pajamas right after I showered because I'm not planning on leaving the house.]

baby story

I was just admiring the wild phlox growing everywhere (and the path I raked) out back...
 

when along came Falkor Scout!

at tension

petition that pinch of admiration
tighten this twinge of distraction

pick dimensions of your denial:
arms are a bow, fingers quarrel

I think you may hit or miss now 
I think you may miss... this love

far is not unlovely, come beloved
fling open my arms and this exit

whisper confidence(s) like a seashell
maybe send postcards, wish us well?

* The bittersweet task of getting the eldest ready to leave the nest.

[Pic: lilacs and wild phlox from LB and TB]

not/normal

 

It's close to 2 am, and I'll (have to) be up again at 6 to get Nu ready (chat, cuddle, breakfast) for (online) school. 

I know I fell asleep with the puppies (and Big A who was writing up charts) just after Nu said goodnight. And then I woke up not twenty minutes later, heart pounding and panicky--for no reason I can think of. This happens A LOT. At least when this happened during the teaching year, there were deadlines and notices and tasks and grading. Nothing now--I've been consciously trying to vacation. I can't do much about the pandemic. What's up, monkey brain?

Anyway, at least I got to finish Olive Again. I'm feeling the lines Olive typed up: "I do not have a clue who I have been. Truthfully, I do not understand a thing." The second half of the book made me yearn to talk to my MIL and some of the older friends from UU, whom I haven't seen in a while, right away.

[Pic: Under the fronds of a huge tree--a European Weeping Beech--on the riverwalk yesterday.]

quiet

The kind of quiet time I usually don't expect on a Monday... I used it for a midday hike with L and reading what she's reading (Olive Again).

easy like Sunday afternoon

For decades, the best summer afternoons have always been about lemonade, chatter, cards, snacks, sunshine, novels... Now I have puppies underfoot to make it even better. (And it's not even officially summer yet!)

(I needed this interlude today--I made an impulsive grocery trip to get some ingredients for Big A's Boss Day dinner and OMG all the unmasked people.)

Over on Scroll, a shortlist of seven philosophers who can help us build back a better post-pandemic world.

passing/passage

The blue blob is me with Scout's face wedged into my hip and what seems to be his preternaturally elongated body is actually part Huck. 

At went to Alma to visit friends (he's post vaccination and also an adult ¯\_(ツ)_/¯); Big A went to work; Nu had been irritable and took themselves off to bed early.

So this was me for the rest of the evening as I started and finished a novel--Brit Bennett's The Vanishing Half--in one long gulp. I read the parts about passing breathlessly--racial passing + gender/trans passing. And it began to feel like being an immigrant is also somewhat like passing--in the sense that you leave an old self behind, propelled as much by necessity and accident as by some form of selfishness/self-centeredness. 

conflict

Sometimes it's called a "conflict," but it may look like people asking for their right to live.

[Pic from At's protest outside Rep. Elissa Slotkin's office this week.]

scene

these flowers are alight
opening in hemispheres
my mind skips out of context
out of focus, a confused state

I am eaten by the earth
I am circled by the eddy
my breath swells with longing
my heartbeat meets in collapse

[Pic: MSU Walled Garden, 5/17/2021]

context

breath is a hymn 
accomplishing joy
surfacing tree brown
I come back to my body
through the sacred,
absurd landscape
of patience

[Pic: Scout and Huck hanging out with me in puppy pose.]

perspective

I'm reeling today from finding out that someone I knew as a kind and overly chivalrous person is in prison for sex crimes. Multiple 16- and 17-year-olds had accused him and I absolutely believe them--I'm just shaken (and shaking my head) about how different (and misleading) my experience of this person was. 

He was famous/semi-famous, and I expect the case was media fodder in the UK for a while. I feel awful that I've sometimes used his early English music ensembles in classes... I will not do this again.

(Pic is of our only east-facing window; I wish we had more. The tradescantia and pothos cuttings I pinched off and stuck into candleholders have rooted and are taking off. Funny how that works.)

focus

Lots of stuff going on--including working in my office, office visits at various doctors etc., but a walk with JG and a porch hang with KB and... hours of jabber and banter are the points I want to remember from today. 

(Spot the bunny in the picture!) 

Sunday is

 

the kind and simple joy

of parenting these four

shit shit shit

The first signal is my head turned 

sideways, listening for him

my dad too, listens to me,

he warns me of shit.

This was literal: he identified each 

congealed hazard on the trail.

"Look out for the dog shit,"

he said. "OK--horse shit."

Or sometimes even: "I don't know, 

kanna--some kind of shit here."

Huge oceans connect us now;

my finger tenses on redial.

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

Red Cedar River, this morning with L.

plot twist

The day started beautifully with a tour of the MSU Horticultural Gardens (whence these decadent peonies) with L. 

It got better when Nu got their first shot of the Pfizer vaccine at a drive-through clinic excellently organized by MI state and operated by some lovely people from the National Guard. 

It got even better when the U of M adolescent gender services clinic called to set up an appointment for us next Friday.

And then like an absolute champion, I got all the student letters of recommendation I was working on--off to students/universities/programs.

It was when I was sending out those letters that I realized I had somehow missed the faculty meeting that was noted in my calendar and my online scheduler.

Whoops. 

dissonance

On the one hand: Getting to hang out with dear (vaccinated) friends at a brewpub (first time in 14 months); planning to get Nu to a walk-in vaccination clinic this weekend now that vaccinations have been approved for the 12 and above set.

On the other hand: Whatsapp messages on cousins' chat sharing fundraisers for treatment for people they personally know; Facebook posts about relatives in India sick and dying.

long day's journey...

L and I were absolutely transfixed by how different Baker Woods looks in just a week. The last time we were there, we saw a mess of ramps and lots of wildflowers, but the trees hadn't greened yet. I was excited for L to see it because I'd hiked at Baker with BS this weekend and was storing this up as a surprise to savor all over again with L. 

Headed up to Alma afterwards for meetings and things with At. He DJ-ed a podcast he wanted me to listen to about the Cuban revolution and and hearing about Meyer Lansky aligned nicely with segments of The Godfather Part II, which I'm watching bit by bit with Big A. 

Back home, we made dinner (last week's leftover rice, +beans, +a bag of 'power blend' veggies in a stirfry, a big green salad, and a mango-blueberry-orange fruit salad), set the table, ate, talked over music, and cleared up in just under 90 minutes--At called it "efficient." Nu headed to bed early after a few rounds of cards and the puppies and I napped together for a bit until it was time to send Big A off to work.

lift your lantern up

Vacuuming in At's room, I chuckled because he'd helpfully put his bungee-chairs and side-tables on top of his bed so I could clean easily without having to move stuff around. As I told him, my mom used to do the same with her cleaners so they'd clean more thoroughly. 

Anyway--his camping lantern had fallen to the floor, so I asked if he could "lift your [his] lantern up" and a look of total befuddlement came over his face. Turns out, he thought it was an axiom he hadn't heard before in the vein of that hymn "This Little Light of Mine"--I'm going to let it shine, etc. 😂😂

And then this little love of mine took care of some yard work unprompted. 🥰🥰

mmmmm morels

Big A mowed too aggressively by the morel patch last year so I was worried they wouldn't come back, but here are a few morels I found (in a spot he'd missed blitzing behind the elm). 

At and I ate a couple, and the rest have gone to good homes, where the whole family appreciates morels (Nu and Big A won't eat 'em over here). 

Nothing quite like the first year we were here, or even the rainy spring of 2019... Still so much better than last year's poor showing, when I appear to have found just two. 

Everything was worse last year. 

"maybe-you're-just-like-my-mother" day

The human kids helped me clean and restock our Little Free Library and then all the kids worked in the garden--digging, clearing, weeding, pruning, and planting in the veggie plots. There are piles of autumn leaves everywhere, but the paths are now cleared and we'll need not fear running out of spearmint and/or peppermint (which came back strong over the winter) any time soon. Ha.

I had a walk with EM planned and the kids had planned to take me out for a walk later, but it looked like a downpour, so we stayed in, and they made me a big pot of tea, which we drank in the tea garden while we did a puzzle and then played cards.

Dinner was personalized mezze platters everyone helped to make. 

It was such a lovely day.

This is only a test

I got home from the weekly grocery shop, predictably getting a bit carried away in the greenhouse buying (mostly inexpensive) begonias, geraniums, vinca vines, and spikes. In this test of my devising, unpacking the car--in the absence of a potting table or potting shed--I (hilariously) stuck the tiny pots into the frames and gutters of the Big A's precious ladders. Now to wait for his reaction. Would he: 

A. clap his hands in delight and pronounce it charming (no chance of this)

B. shake his head with a rueful smile and ask me to move them soon (probably)

C-F. any response less loving/indulgent than B. 

(Dear Diary, he got a B.)

"even doves have pride"

First business appointment today was Zoom court, where JL's PPO (personal protection order) against their stalker ex was upheld and extended. Abusers are really their own worst enemies--the judge was visibly deprecating of his disrespect and narcissism (I was too). 

Some committee work + paperwork + unfinished business... Then a lovely, supportive, mentoring all-women meeting. We're opening up the previously faculty-only group to staff and admin; I want to get athletics, facilities/janitorial, and our catering staff involved too!

A kind shoutout from Mel at Stirrup Queens, a heads-up that an old poem had been published in The Scriblerus Spring Issue, and a Google scholar alert about an essay that was picked for an anthology and is now in print round off the writing updates for the week. 

____________________________

Pic: Two weeks or so ago, our cherry blossoms at their peak.

day/break/out

Daylight--it wounds the sky, gashes the clouds
--a jail/a madhouse would feel like a vacation
today. J/K; joke! I'm timid, presumptive
 
I send a few glances out--sort of as envoys,
like lighting small candles everywhere 
as though entertaining--protest

I think my mother once had hands like mine,
to measure submission as it crept up on us
--in the flicker of a lazy lizard eye

In my head, I just want to keep assembling 

these lines, ironically, un-wrinkling words

I don't know--back into distraction

____________________________

Meme from Twitter; TBH, the day is as gray as this picture.

"maybe I'm just too demanding"

Got grades done yesterday; long meetings today; all-day meetings with the Board of Trustees tomorrow; multiple meetings Friday. My annual faculty update is due next month. I'd better find a way to set boundaries and make summer writing work for me if I don't want a repeat of last year's lost summer.

combat landscape

these shapes of things we thought of

when wet and swampy from birthing

imprint on us bossily--love or neglect

the effects of hurt and genius and dirt

yet it feels like power--this waking up

making ourselves anew for each day

remembering how you would catch me

when I spilled over like a careless drink

now spent things colored big and blue

as bruises have swollen shut the doors

to all the places we've ever left behind

so in our minds, we recount loss all day

 

say: can you hear me--1, 2, 3;  I, 2, 3--?

faraway and wingless, yet needing to be 

we sift sight and experience: for our eyes

see forts while our hands feel for forests

promise

this is where i will love you

this is how you're spoken for

i will surround you with care

i will celebrate you with song

you will be stronger for my love

all i say to you will be only kind

you will know you are important 

find comfort when you "just can't"

we'll still need the earth for this body

as we fill the sky with soul and dreams

if they fall into a net, i'll make you a nest 

even should you falter, i'll believe in your best

Mostly a promise to anyone who needs it, even if it's mostly me. 

The nice things I've done for myself recently (pedestrian objects alert) is (a) get toothbrushes with tiny heads--perhaps they don't renovate my mouth, hasten world peace, etc., but they also don't constantly bump up against my gums and teeth; (b) get sporks--so easy to use esp. when multitasking and all the better for cleaning my plate/bowl.

Second-vaccine-shot, college-graduation, and birthday weekend for this guy

 

"alone in a world so cold"

the world changes in the next line 
not in a full way/just kidding
but I summon/succumb

start assuming our story as reality--
no--a fantasy--something festal 
--or elastic as seasons

and still--don't know where I'm going
but I'm going and I'm arriving
where you will embrace me

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

On this windy, spring day: At graduated today with honors in Poli Sci and History. Jim Daniels as commencement speaker was a pleasant surprise.

limen

every dead thing is sainted 
even if impermanent 

as sadness, staining breath,
straining glass

while our faces sigh into it--
an empty staircase 
of smoke, of panic, prayer 
rising, now howling

"open the door, open it"
gasping, holding on

to memories, remembering 

doors used to open

Arundhati Roy: "We are witnessing a crime against humanity"

"how can you just leave me standing"

Our last class... just last week, and I already miss these people.

"animals strike curious poses"

...some of my favorite animals.

I was sitting in Nu's window seat--they have one of the best views in the house--when these guys came to find me. It reminded me of that time they busted me in At's room.
 

"dig if you will the picture"

 Yeah. Don't know when I'll feel ready for all this.

scraps

I expected fanfare at sunrise

instead here is an aperture 

into resurrection

in immense welcome of it all

yolk of sun, soup of soil

feed the taste of return

solving the mystery of missing

things by... just growing in

limbs uncurling out

freed from winter's quarantine 

in the drama of the moment

rests a dirge for the day

[Ely Woods]

A Study in Scarlet

Big A spring-cleaned our study, scrubbed the tiled floor, and moved rugs around this weekend. The resulting palette is kind of all kinds of red especially around my reading chair, adorably added to here by Huckie carrying a red dinner napkin around...

I sent this pic to family chat with the caption "A Study in Scarlet," and was miffed no one got the nerdy reference.

just

There's just a little.

But a little is about all I can manage right now.

[Baker Woods]

reflection

Just scraps of cherry blossom petals; dead leaves; dank water; my bundled-up, masked, shadowy reflection...

Somehow, I love these colors and shapes together.

[MSU Horticultural Gardens]

unsee, undo

The urn, a yearning
pressed into bruise
into battle

I know this word, I 
mouthed it until I 
learned its taste 

Save me;  save my 
past--words, bring 
me to rest

My heart breaks and breaks and breaks: https://www.theguardian.com/world/2021/apr/21/system-has-collapsed-india-descent-into-covid-hell 

"make me a channel"

Two colleague-friends on the third floor have birthdays this week, and what a perfect time (plus a privilege and a pleasure) to share the work of Sophfronia Scott (who'll soon be on our floor) with them.

Otherwise a busy, busy, busy day with meetings starting at 8 am and student grading, consultations, and some cheerleading/handholding throughout. 

Because I was personally in a funk (™my dad) last week, I forgot to say how proud I am of my students who did a wonderful job with the WGS symposium and then over-performed on Honors Day despite all the pandemic-inherent obstacles. Hearing their idealistic and confident descriptions of why their humanities research was important made me tear up more than once. And one of my sponsees took the humanities Kapp Prize.

AK wrote me: You know your students today were rock-stars right? Your light as a teacher has clearly lit them up as well. While that's clearly a kind overstatement, and I don't want to take away from my students' clear sense of agency and genius--it nevertheless made me feel like I was doing good in this world. Even if only as an intermediary.

onwards

Not justice and not even accountability--but a gruff reminder from the universe that progress is possible when we participate in all the ways we can witnessing, filming, challenging, protesting, sacrificing, mourning, writing, reliving, watching, feeling, waiting.... 

I was on my way home, but had to pull over to the side of the road when the verdict was read out. 

Later, driving past Ithaca, I watched a police car speeding down a side road parallel to the highway until it disappeared. 

Felt surreal.

[Mural: Aziz Asmar in Idlib, Syria]