(before my parents' arranged marriage)

When my mom was trying hard to be my best friend

(so I too would share, so I wouldn't decide to die)
she once told me how in the late sixties
she'd take the 21 bus from her college
to go "flirt" at the university library

Heading home meant rules and four younger siblings 

(and college was only to make her marriage worthy)
so she'd stay back to read trashy novels 
knowing dudes were watching her 
from neighboring desks

I feel a flicker for mom in her carefully pressed saris

(pressed under her mattress if she missed the dhobi)  
knowing she'd never be allowed to work
using the few years she had

for freedom, for fun

she told me she never looked directly at any of them
(I mean, that would be to risk a bad reputation) 

but there was one bespectacled dude
who seemed a very serious type

she didn't know his name

graduation results went up, and he asked how she did 
(she was too taken by surprise to counterfeit, so)

she told him she got a third class--i.e. a "C"
he turned on his heel--and she laughs-- 
she never saw him again

zooming to nostalgia

When the invitation to attend a state of the art talk with so many of my old professors showed up, I RSVPed right away. It was some of the usual suspects from the Thursday Poco Seminar and it  took me back to being a student in Oxford in the first decade of this century--late as usual, racing past the tourists and townies and fellow students to get to Wadham College by 5:15. Usually I didn't bring my bicycle because there'd be wine and/or we'd go to dinner with the speaker and it would be easier to split a taxicab with someone.

It was at 5:00 GMT today, so although I tuned in at noon, it felt like one of those evenings. Lots has happened since then: jobs, publications, promotions; and on the other side: relationships, marriage, kids. It's wild that my profs are still the leaders in the field; it's crazy that I still show up on their acknowledgements pages from time to time. 

There is one person on this panel who is newer, very likely much younger. They mentioned in their introductory remarks that they felt "intimidated." I assumed they meant because of the august company--but no, they meant because they had to cover a lot of ground in very little time. And that, my friends, is one of the many reasons why although both of us applied for the same job at UCLA Berkeley in 2012, only one of us got it (and it wasn't me).

here and now

This is from yesterday's hike with L. I'm glad something nice came of it since a few minutes after I took this pic, I slipped on some black ice and ended up flat on my back. I didn't at all feel winded or embarrassed (it was L, after all) and I was thankful that I'd been wearing the very thick hat my in-laws gave me. 

My neck hurts today--not sure if its because I lifted heavier weights than usual, slept wrong, or because I did something to it when I fell.  Anyway, my personal physician will be home tomorrow and I can get checked out then. 

In the meantime, I've been binge reading To Paradise, and getting intensely Edith Wharton vibes from the first part set in a sort of alternative Gilded Age. I also watched The Last Duel, with its immersive medieval ethos. Two historical periods in one weekend is a bit much even for me.

"sisters before misters"

There were no plans to party this weekend, but CF and I were texting yesterday and suddenly there was a plan for a Galentines Party. 

It's Superbowl weekend and I didn't want to go to the store. But I already had the (dollar store) decorations, the puff pastry and candy and nuts and the cake mix I needed. The rest people brought: pink prosecco, brownies, cookies, flowers, and more flowers. Then we downloaded a couple of games and were ready to go. 

It was really small (thanks, Covid) and I love that even so we were such a mix in terms of of gender-sexuality-relationship folks. I love my friends and it turns out that I needed the laughs and the dancing.

where it hurts

This part of my hip, which is hurt, is also the exact spot Scout likes to rest his fuzzy chin on--it's just the perfect gentle pressure.

I earned this afternoon+evening reading To Paradise, drinking cinnamon tea, eating chocolate, the puppies in my lap/on my legs. Big A is at work, I dropped Nu off to visit a friend, and I worked like a fiend yesterday.

I'm coming to the end of the day with deep satisfaction, apparently some days it takes very little to get there.
 

don't look now, I'm changing

I know I'm in the minority here, but I LOVE Facebook. Not the corporation--just the community. 

With family, friends, colleagues, and loves on every continent it's the best way I have to keep in touch with what's going on in people's lives. There are a few chat and text groups that are active all day long (family, cousins, kids), but Facebook is great at filling the gaps in between actual conversations with lots of other people. I can think of so many great ongoing friendships over the last two decades that started as online interactions.

Anyway... I do wish ole FB would let me change my profile pic without making a big production of it. No matter how stealthily I update my picture (the previous one was masked and I was tired of it and the pandemic), the change goes out to other people's timelines. I *cringe* to think that people think I *want* them to notice my new picture or that I *want* them to make soothing comments about aging and all that. I don't mind when the love is for my awesome graduate or my awesome babies, though.

"A Pedagogy of Kindness"

An older article, "The Pedagogy of Kindness" has been making the rounds on social media again and is a good reminder of how much unlearning those of us teach have to undergo. Elite institutions (in my case, Oxford) especially reinforce ideas of privilege, proving oneself, thinking of your cohort as competitors, etc. etc. It took reading bell hooks and June Jordan to discover more inclusive and compassionate forms of learning and teaching are possible. 

June Jordan's electrifying statement in "Outside Language:" “None of us has known enough tenderness” has been my mantra in the classroom for decades now. 

Anyway, I was in my office for meetings today and a kind student gave me this beautiful calendar to say thank-you. Other students may say thank you by undertaking research, accepting additional responsibilities, pioneering new activities and events, or confiding personal struggles--all of which happened today too. I'm so lucky to be doing this work.

a smiley one

Today went better than I imagined. 

Big A was back--we hung out and hung out and hung out and then hammered out some details on our book project; At dropped by unexpectedly to pick up some mail and give Nu a teddy bear from the Sinn Fein store; the three painkillers the vet gave Scout have put him in a happier--and loopier--mood; I got Nu's prescription filled easily and the somewhat transphobic pharmacist didn't give me the runaround this time.

Best of all, I wasn't expecting to have the whole fam together at the dinner table tonight, but it happened! (Although Scout decided to sit at my feet instead of with everyone else.)  So I took a pic for my mom (and me!). 

to feeling better

I wrote: "Time is terrifying" 

later remembering: *kaal--time 

--is one of many names for death

and also just as ordinary as life is

Pointless: the closings, returnings,

emptying into tunnels to spotlight

our origins and pain... this sad sad

diorama of what we never asked for

I am asking for Scout to feel better--

I mean, look--suffering is overrated

really--like anything could make this 

best-est of all friends a better being

________

Pic: I got Scout a new bed so he'd be comfortable when I wasn't around to give him an "uppy" to the couch, but Huck (who can jump up onto every piece of furniture in the house) claimed it first. 

*In Hindi and Sanskrit kaal means time/epoch but can also be another name for the God of Death. I may have been thinking of that subconsciously in the last line of yesterday's entry.

the lovey

One of my favorite pictures of Scout as a puppy: hugging his lovey and watching for the water vole to swim past in the old house. He would get so excited when he saw water voles or bunnies that he'd sit down like he couldn't bear the weight of his surprise. Scout was always the sweetest of my babies.

Anyway long neuro appt today for Scout (from 11 am to nearly 4 pm) and they found some things but are going to pass us on to the ortho dept. They weren't letting anyone but patients in, but I was so anxious that I couldn't understand them on the phone--it was like I lost my capacity for language. So they brought me into a tiny exam room and went over everything with me again. 

I remember pointing out his weakness and everyone trying to convince me that I was imagining it. No one thinks I'm imagining it anymore, it's that obvious.

Time is terrifying sometimes.

red boots

Do Big A and I have matching boots? No--but both our boots do look very red in this picture. 🥰 We walked downtown by ourselves for some fresh air and alone time, got breakfast burritos and coffee, and walked them back to the grandparents' place for brunch. Then we got some final hugs in, put the human kid and the puppy kids in the backseat, and piled back into the car for the trip home. We got back before sunset, unpacked, scrounged up some dinner, and spent a nice and unhurried evening together.

But... I have the biggest case of the 'Sunday Scaries'--anxiety's just shooting up, up, up...  I do have a list of consultations and meetings to accomplish tomorrow, but it's all very do-able. I've prepped and done everything I can, and have been reading compulsively to pass the weekend.

day tripping

An early morning traipse and it's off to Yellow Springs with the fam for a quick trip.

I'm going to have a nice visit with the in-laws without worrying about the list of conference-related stuff I have I've noted on my to-do list (register for my SALA presentation; book a hotel for the student honorary; plan out sessions for Michigan Academy; and solicit papers for NWSA). It's the weekend, and Monday will be here soon enough.

I always thought Nu listened to ABBA because of me/Mamma Mia!, but it turns out that my gay kid loves ABBA, and that playing ABBA Gold will get us halfway to Ohio. 

Boss Day*

It has been a long and busy week, but it's my "Boss Day" (*translation below) today and I knew things were looking up when I saw this "baby rainbow" in the grey sky at the end of my cold ass walk with L this morning. 

I had a massage with R, my lovely gender-fluid masseuse; some Christmas gift cards to spend; and got some tasty treats (milk chocolate pistachios). 

At showed up for dinner, and I got to play Hot Ones at dinner with the fam. The best part was doing a 15-minute Tai Chi session before At left (with Nu, Big A, and the puppies sort of joining us from assorted places around the rumpus room).

Also: I got Wordle in two. 

__________________________________

*Boss Day must be the best thing I ever made up: we celebrate everyone's "birthday" every month. My birthday is on March 4th, so it's my Boss Day on the 4th of every month--At is on the 2nd, Nu the 11th, Scout and Huck the 18th, Big A the 23rd, and so on. I get the "Boss Baby" a small present (usually a book and some treats) and they get to pick dinner (home/restaurant) and a family activity (show/game). It makes for a nice mini celebration every week. We celebrate the puppies on the same day, because it was too confusing for them if only one of them got special treats. I thought I'd link to a few Boss Day posts, but there were too many when I searched "Boss Day."

warmer

Earlier this week, EM drove through the imminent snow storm to bring us a portable Lunar New Year celebration: a dumpling feast, cake, sweet treats, and the traditional red envelope with a money gift for Nu. It was only when I was putting away the bags yesterday, that I found the felt good luck decoration at the bottom... I hung it up with the other ones, and took this picture to send with a thank you message.

(It triggered the memory that the last time we'd eaten out with EM was the Lunar New Year dimsum we had together at the start of the pandemic in 2020. Someday, we'll do that again.)

I wanted something warm to note for today... red is warm; love is warm.

practicing panic

for my head is full of sound

loose in its orbit

like a character in a cartoon

I refuse to choose

perhaps the moon will rise 

out of my chest

into skies of hope-rage-love

bigger than loss

yet for now I'm just watching 

alert from afar

feeling like a new  w o u n d

waiting to scar

________________________________

Pic: So the storm came and the snow stayed. I took this picture from bed this morning, cozy in the knowledge that Nu's school had already declared today a snow day.

the body we lived in

loss hovers here--already a ghost/

formless the way these ghosts are

one hand on my chest, squeezing/

another hand signing what shape

it may take, /how it may unmake 

--with a ghost laugh so loud, /I cry 

"remember!" I want to say; /I ask--

"remember?" there's a way home

crawling amphibian up my spine 

but I'm still waiting/ to be found

my arms outstretched--embracing

/unarmed and ready for the rack

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

Pic: A hawk (?) by the Red Cedar, spied on my walk with Big A today. 

There was the body of a dead squirrel in the hawk's talons. (Big A kept asking me not to look at the bird and not to go closer. We both agree I tend to be much braver/foolhardier than he is.)

I'm also thinking about bodies and how they can be--or seen as--just one thing or another (/) because of what our poor little Nu said at the pediatrician this morning, and because that child, Brendan Santo, was found recently.

full

 

I feel Huckie's tail blur and Scout's blissed-out face... BS and CL came to dinner, Big A was back...

Table, tummies, and hearts full.

Grateful to be ending January on this note.

keeping it real

Nu has been watching a show called Arcane (based off of the League of Legends video game) this weekend, and although I've been assiduously working on the chapter due to the editors tomorrow, I must have imbibed a sufficient amount of it. 

I came out of an absolutely horrifying dream this morning in which I was on an escaping spaceship with a ton of children I'd never seen before... and my mom. The children were being taken to a safer place and I was there as some kind of consultant? (Not sure). In any case, I was supposed to be there, but my mom had just stowed away, and I was trying to shield her from the guards. I remember asking her to sit on a bench alongside the children, but she stuck out so she had to sit on the floor and try to be unnoticeable. I was going to pretend to the guards that she was there to take care of the kids, and worrying about saying that out loud, because my mom is quite elitist and would hate that role. And then my irritation with her elitism became this horrible disloyal question: why did I pick my mom and not my kids/dad/spouse? Poor mom!!

In real mom news, she seems to be recovering from her Covid... albeit slowly.

Pic is from this morning's tromp in the woods with L and Nu. I kept wishing the sun would show, but that didn't happen. We did get to see our favorite tree, though. Lots of weekend chores, reading, writing, homework, leftovers for dinner, and tai-chi (from a Mirror teacher) to round out the weekend. 

up close and personal

Here we are up close and personal with Huckleberry! (Like a typical younger sib, I guess she didn't like that Scout got a post to himself yesterday.) Huckie can leap five feet in the air any time she hears the treat jar, and likes to make sure there's never more than 5 cm between her and the nearest human. 

Big A is away at work. I miss him and really dislike our new normal. I'm sure I'm going to be writing poems like a teenager soon. Ha.

CF came over for dinner and to keep us company. I pulled out a vegetarian shepherd's pie I'd frozen last month, because CF is a cozy, comfortable friend like that. I made a bean soup too, because it felt like a soup night. And then I saved the brown bananas by making almond flour muffins with blueberries and raspberries. Problem is, I don't like bananas--and now I'm hoping other people will eat them. Puppies really seem to like it! So dinner was fun, and then we watched a show and checked in and gossiped on the side while Nu was occupied.

I was supposed to be at work for an admissions event early this morning, but Bluey the car hadn't charged (and Big A was away, so no backup car), and I had to start the day with a sheepish phone call to the coordinator. Apart from that, today was alright.

Scout update

Doesn't Scout look like Einstein in that one wacky picture? I gave him an "uppy" to the couch and he snuggled up and made working on my chapter so much easier. 

Moments like this can make me forget how his hind legs aren't working and even wagging his tail is increasingly difficult for him. I'm proud of how this baby has found ways to move--scooting, sliding, stretching--to overcome his mobility issues. And I miss all the things he used to do--join me when I lit the pooja lamps, greet everyone at the door, etc., etc., etc... this list is really long. But I'm grateful for all he can still do--he has the kindest eyes and best snuggles always.

I'm also grateful that the neuro appointment we made last year, which seemed ages away--is now around the corner of next week.

assisted living

grass and sky haven't have heard yet 

and I let the unknown speak for me

tricky forests spring up like questions

I will keep seeking a story I read as a kid

with its sad embrace of a torn telegram 

whose yellow moths follow me forever 

even the temporary kingdom of my trust

where lie grave jokes of literature and life 

about what could have been... has been

O I say--we are such strange creatures

I hear about chimp haven; feel a relief 

for beloved elders finding assisted living

Friends, the only breath in cages is death 

maybe we use shards and shadows to knit 

soft shelters to lay over this thing called life?

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

Related/Random BOC

* I read a story when I was 9/10--I think of it as my first grownup story--about a man who tears up a telegram bearing bad news about his wife and baby in order to pretend to his fellow train passengers that all is well. The story sat between Hawthorne ("Young Goodman Brown") and Thurber ("The Catbird Seat") in an anthology of great American short stories (likely someone's discarded textbook), but I don't know the title or author despite a great number of patchy google searches.

* I couldn't get through to mom or sis on the phone today and was panicked enough to ask my cousin to check on them... turns out his wife, daughter, and mom are also down with the virus.

* The pulmonologist thinks my mom will be ok and back to normal in a couple of weeks.

* The story about the NIH chimps going to Chimp Haven was from my commute to work this morning.

* And there was a planning meeting for the conference in Minneapolis--so I was hearing Prince too, I guess.

anniversary!

The anniversary of our first date! Who knew on that epic first date like... decades ago when we walked across the Brooklyn Bridge and hung out all day eating in three-four different places that we'd still be celebrating all these years later. We usually do a long walk, but we're both on deadline and the day threw us some surprises, so we went for a "Downton" before dinner in the backyard instead. (Nu grabbed a couple of pictures of us!) 

I think I used to write about those early days long, long ago. In other news, I miss NYC.  

In very serious news, which I've shoved to the back of my consciousness in order to function, my sister texted to say my mom has just tested positive for Covid (but not my dad... yet). Dreading the next few days.

breakthroughs

A breakthrough in family therapy for Nu and Big A--a moment just beautiful in its vulnerability. I am so proud of these two stubborn people who don't give up. 

And a welcome breakthrough on an essay I'm working on just as I was falling asleep last night. I was too tired to even scratch out a note for myself, but it lingered when I sat down to work the next morning. Like all the best solutions, it was there all along! 

In other news, I'd sent out a flawed proposal and instead of being rejected, one of the evaluators messaged me backchannel to revise and resubmit--which I did. It reminded me of this story on bias I heard on the radio detailing how well networked people benefit from excuses and clemencies unavailable to others. I never thought, I guess, that I would be on the receiving end of such benefaction. 

And of course, putting it all into perspective--the James Webb telescope has settled into its permanent orbit and I wonder what else we'll learn about ourselves. 

Solid

Finally at that stage where the Red Cedar is frozen solid and the crazy college kids have cleared patches to play hockey on it. A day that was prettier to be in--with the snow falling lightly--than it was to photograph.

But I went outside today. I started some good sabbatical habits--working steadily through the day until it was time to pick up Nu. Got a proposal sent off; whittled the chapter that was at 20K down to 11K. It needs to be at 8K--so I guess I know what I'm doing tomorrow. 

in passing through

our midday is swollen

heavy with snow, sun,

the pitch of children

held borderless in joy

the zip-lining lunacy 

of answered smiles

anthems of exchange

pleating through time 

if someday we unstitch

don't hoard the vanished

remember, yes--remember

our own lavish heap of life

ECG Sonnet

did you drown in my eyes
and sink into my heart
quicken my blood
dissolve our lives

into one line

staticky 

vagal

benign

and beautiful

in the way of love 

of those too far gone

one fire quenched only 

with another--far fiercer

to bury ourselves, be born

Looking up

Today was nicer. 

I feel normal(ish). 

Nu's long, fraught semester is finally over.

We had cuddly, chatty visit from At.

A soul-affirming planning meeting with the Tender Hearts Garden collective.

Started a good book: Lily King's Five Tuesdays in Winter.

Started an interesting show: Decoupled on Netflix.* 

And... JG sent pictures from Hawaii where they'll be till April, and I've been encouraged to visit.**

________________________

*Decoupled is clever and the skirmishes between protagonist novelist Arya and real life novelist Chetan Bhagat are uproarious. But the show tries to do that thing where it pretends like the only people who matter in India are upper-middle-class, English speaking folks. In fact, it treats people doing their jobs (security agents, wait staff, domestic workers) as the butt of jokes and that got a bit tiring for me. Also, in this day and age, even real people don't have to live with a name like Arya Iyer--so we certainly don't have to name a fictional character with every upper caste marker there is. Some of it is anti-South bias too? I mean, North Indians seem to think everyone from the south is Madrasi/Iyer.

**I don't think I will go--lately, I've seen too many indigenous Hawaiian activists begging mainlanders not to visit because of Covid. But it's still nice to have pictures. 

"the family I wanted to have"

Another day in bed and too much time to think... and it got me thinking. 

How I haven't seen my parents in three years. How my mom is lowkey disappointed in me because one grandkid hasn't made it to grad school yet and another grandkid is transitioning. (She's stopped saying it out loud, and gets full points for being a supportive grandmom and using the right names and pronouns, but she'll still say perhaps I could "talk" to the kids and "help" them. This included a story of an uncle--a child psychiatrist (!!!)--who "talked" to his kid and she's not lesbian anymore? I tried to tell my mom that's not how sexuality works.)

Why the child who's applying to grad school won't take any advice from his parents when we have about three grad degrees each and could be good resources. We have lots of students and mentees whom we're honored to help, but our own child wants none of it. Why the child who's transitioning is still so unhappy and what else could we do. 

In family therapy the other day--I shared my worry that when Big A begins commuting to Milwaukee in July, it would disrupt the family and all the little traditions and habits we'd built up over the years because can we still do it if Nu and I are the only humans left at home? And the therapist said that I was probably comparing what's left "with the family I used to have... and the family I wanted to have." 💯

Why am I like this?

It was time for the 14-year-old's Covid booster, and I couldn't put mine off any longer, so Nu and I went and got our Covid boosters and Flu shots on Tuesday. Then I spent all day in a feverish haze--my reaction to shots is so over the top. 

I was able to tell time on the bedroom clock only via context. Is this 9:15/2:45? I'd been in bed all day, and it didn't really matter, but I had to crawl to my phone to figure out the right time.

when your child's dorm room makes it to the tabloids

One of the people At went to school with complained at length in the NYPost about campus being "too woke" and mentioned the Mao poster that used to hang in At's dorm room.

Uh-Oh. 

This made me chuckle.

Esp. because this student doesn't know that I (At's mama) got him a Chairman Mao hat when I was in San Fran for a conference and KB offered him more Mao memorabilia from her trip to China.

in agreement

we're the ones using footprints
as poetry... or prophecy

our words as rungs

vowing to climb all the years

counting births and burials

between then and now

fact: it's hard we don't know

if we'll hear hands answer

and clap us back 

nervous, our fingers crossed 

as we reread the fine print

of the universe 

*************

Pic: KB came down to Lansing and I was SO happy to share my favorite woods with a favorite person. 

Pongal-O-Pongal

We're a couple of days late, but today was the day I could gather the kids for a Pongal celebration. It was a brilliant day to honor the sun... our second snow Pongal. And at least we got to celebrate it this year...

I've always loved Pongal, amongst many other reasons, for giving me a second chance at beginning afresh. And I definitely need it this year. 

My mom calls the sun "pratyakshadeva"--the god who makes himself visible to us every day (not necessarily in Michigan, but you know...) and I love that. 

I have to say, Hinduism comes back to me in unpredictable ways...  Klara's literal sun worship in Ishiguro's Klara and the Sun didn't strike me as odd at all because I've been there. Ha.

Everybody likes to party

For a few hours it felt like the before times... 

While everyone was tested, masked, etc., this was still pretty risky. I'm glad I went because it was a very special moment for some very special people. 

I am, however, feeling a bit nervous about consequences. I had a headache later in the evening (probably because of WINE!!) and a tummyache too (cheesy food!) and I kept asking Big A if he thought I might have Covid. Let's see.

treasure (noun and verb)

Bookclub yesterday at JS's. Everyone took a rapid test before we headed over and it felt delightful to *see* everyone and catch up on news and nosh. 

We'd read The Lincoln Highway (which I didn't love) and as is my wont, I made a dish featured in the book--this time it was "Sally's Casserole," which was actually this although I, naturally, subbed Impossible meat for the beef. I had however, mentioned to L that I was thinking of making fettucine mio amore, another dish mentioned in the book, and L came up with the author's recipe! Then I spent way too much time going down the rabbit hole of other recipes based on mentions in books.

My most favorite part was the tour of JS's treasures from walks and hikes--pods and nests and dried flora (pic). I love how JS (a poet) finds treasure everywhere. Such a lovely evening and a memory to treasure in the months to come. 

in and out of the woods

We made a decision yesterday about Big A's university offers after our tromp through the woods. We mulled over the same series of circumstances and determinants and possibilities we have for weeks now and decided to go for the offer closest geographically and to his dream position. 

It means he'll spend 50% of his time in Milwaukee with the coming academic year.

Yesterday, L kept texting little things to show she was thinking of me, I had a good cry with my mom the day before that, and today--I told people at work so we could start brainstorming strategies to make single parenting possible in the Fall when I go back to teaching.

"catch my drift"

The Michigan Department of Transportation's list of snow plow names is adorable. Here's the full list... my favorites are "Mission Implowssible" and "Catch My Drift."

Looking at yesterday's first real day of time tracking really helped me see (a) I ought to prioritize work (b) separate emails from deep work (c) make time for work (d) I haven't yet a clue where this time will come from.

There are a lot of hours spent hanging out with the fam and hiking and soaking in the tub, but Non, je ne regrette rien.

Grid Life

Day 1 on on the Laura Vanderkam time tracker challenge (since yesterday was mostly travel and touring);  Day 6 on Wordle (100%, Baby); and Day 0 of finding ways of minimizing administrative duties. 

My lovely colleague-mentor L had suggested that I disengage and use the sabbatical to good use--and I pared down campus engagement. But just today I got asked to join a search committee and a journal review board--and I said yes. It can't be helpful to anyone if I keep taking on every opportunity that flits across my timeline. 

sunrise

Sunrise over Lake Michigan on the Northside of Milwaukee (Atwater Park, maybe?). This was just lovely although the rest of the day was a drag. 

If we could afford to live overlooking the lake, I might move. But we can't, and I won't.

sunset

A beautiful sunset over a stretch of industrial sludge outside of Chicago.

We're headed to Milwaukee to check out one of the places that offered Big A a research gig... and I already feel like nothing good can come of this trip.

"little talks"

1)    This past week, I've had some tough conversations with Big A (diminishing family time); Nu (screen time and schoolwork); At (patchy/magical Covid protocol) so I'm glad Scout thinks I'm just the greatest. 

2)    B.E.S. asked if I would officiate at their wedding reception... I love B.E.S. (student>colleague>friend) and am beyond honored... but also have also have no idea how to go about it. 

3)    Scheduled a professional WGS talk in March--I'm more confident of doing alright with this.

4)    Lots of phone calls this weekend--in the absence of real meetups, these are the talks I love best!

I do not like this song, but since titling this post, it's my personal ear worm.

"Powerful beyond stage and screen"

My parents were such huge fans of Sir Sidney Poitier, they had us kids watch all their favorites on VHS. 

I must have thought of them as documentary, so imagine my horror and surprise when I got to the USA and realized that racism hadn't been neatly resolved decades ago.

But in these past decades, I've come to appreciate what an amazing trailblazer he was even "beyond stage and screen" as Bernice King notes. 

Rest in Power, Sir.

__________________

Vaguely related: I gave At this this Desmond Tutu apron for Christmas and the Rev. died the very next week; At gave me this edition of In the Heat of the Night and now Sir Sidney is no more. How jinx-y are we?

"change not closure"

I heard of ambiguous loss only last year, but it was one of those moments that helped me understand a lifetime. Pauline Boss who originated that term (in grad school!!) has a new book out in which they urge that we prioritize adapting to change instead of forcing closure. It was a day of making some tough decisions with Big A (out of state job) and Nu (school-related stuff), so this was a helpful read. 

What she says about the general response to the pandemic here really resonates: 

I've heard other people say the same thing — that they were more adaptable than they thought they could be. I saw it during World War II as well. I was a youngster then. People adapted and were extremely resilient and came through it, the ones that were still living. I see it again now. I'm again pleasantly surprised at human resilience. It's not true of everybody, but it's true of, I think, most of the people. And so I say this to people: Pat yourself on the back.

*Patting myself on the back.* 

anniversary

 

Yup, the anniversary of the most insane and scary thing I've witnessed in real time is tomorrow. 

Anyway, Jamie Raskin's book about this week last year is in my checkout cart--but I'm not sure if I'm ready to read it. 

Just his brave interview on Fresh Air nearly crumbled me. 

I am still not over Tommy Raskin (I may never be).

an international call

 

If you called my extreme condition: you might 

diagnose sister love--but do you know  

about the side effects

when my phone tells me it's her calling

--nausea, dry mouth, anxiety, 

shortness of breath

she knows this and inserts a subject line 

even as I--"hello?" "All's well, Akka,

I just called..."

 international calls are ordinary yet hide

like a virus inside information 

 finding a way to threaten

despite the softness of my sister's voice--

noisy futures sometimes dance 

alongside the old world 

international calls will make me watch--

make me guess who'll partner next 

parents, cousins, other loves

"I just called..." she says "one million cases..."

she says "I wanted to tell you all

 to be safe and careful."

Of course there's no way to be careful enough

(home is: a high school student,

a fast food worker, an ER doc)

I'm in the literal woods now (the metaphorical 

end of the sea), until the sun unhooks itself 

from a cloud shaped like a headache

and sails into the sky without even a cough

just this high, bright, and bored god

bearing messages--but not for me

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

Pic: Sunrise at Baker Woods. The phone rang as I was taking this picture, and I panicked when I saw it was my sister as it was kind of an unusual time for her to call me. She was calling because we--the U.S.--topped over a million NEW Covid infections yesterday. She wanted to ask the family to be safe and careful. But how? 

dinner conversation

the earth tilts into evening

I can hold you forever--

in arms, in eyes 

in a solemn ministry of love

my mouth is a vow 

(all words are wow)

I know love like loneliness

like a rescue animal

diving through fog 

in your marrows of strength

the tenderness of words

the tenderness of wounds

for when you ask me questions

certainty lies--folded between

my hands like grace

_______________

Pic: Family dinner yesterday; a serious conversation about cartoons. 

little

All I want to say about today is how much fun it was having a toddler visit us for a while.

Scout and Huck agree with me.

respairing

Honestly? I think I'm wary about 2022; I was way more sanguine about respair last year. 

Nu had some friends over to celebrate NYE at home; At went out with friends; Big A and I noshed while the puppies went between pets in the rumpus room (Nu and friends) to naps with Mama and Dada. Also: We pro-conned and discussed a job offer which would take take Big A to another state. 

We were supposed to do a whole family dinner tonight, but At's car ran into a curb and there's a weather advisory, so it'll be tomorrow (hopefully). I'm grateful everyone is okay-ish even while I will myself not to be superstitious about new year's day.

I'll carry myself into this next year 
conveniently mad
you know I've done what I could 

Happy New Year! Happy wishes!

2022, please

don't open and return these to me

we can be civil--here, take my hand 

shake it, I mean

don't like... coddle or confiscate it

__________________________

Poems from January 1 over the years: 

new year  

once more 

often 

nodes 

Jan 1st 

I took my kids to yoga today 

______________________________

Pic: The soapstone sculpture LB and TB gave us for Christmas. It looks like a very loving couple, and I think that was their point. (It also makes me blush a little with its intense intimacy.)

farewell, 2021*

I'm sure you did the best you could;

* I didn't mean what I said.

 

a better next year

Everyone told me not to do any work over the break: I took their advice; I'm bored. 

This week--with its radio silence on my work email--reminded me how much of my workday is responding to scheduled events and corresponding about projects. I'll need to shift out of that mode over sabbatical so I have something worthwhile at the end of it. I really, really, really need to get in the zone with my writing projects. 

Despite the seemingly universal experience of having 2020 drag and 2021 sprint, I think I ought to compartmentalize more effectively after two years of practicing pandemic panic. That's going to be my big goal for 2022. 

Drove up to the office today to collect some books, water my plants, pick up mail, etc. and I had a lot of time to reflect. (Also feel like I'm on the verge of a big cry--but that could just be from loping through Bewilderment and being too tired to cry at 2 am or whenever it was that I finished it.)

the writing on the trees

night always comes to inherit earth
light follows faraway--hopefully

from emerald to ash the borer hies 

pressing leaf into shadow

tearing through wood with a reason

writing hieroglyphs in hunger

seeming a cousin to cave scribbles

as madness is all to madness 

would you go on a walk with me

through seasons of damage

we can bless the falling of pillars

whittled from feral feasts

recorded on stoic skin and bones

etched into fasting flesh

for every time we've been reduced 

by some primitive scrawl of loss 

___________________________

Pic: I had to step across this tree trunk, which lay in my path in Baker Woods. And it looked like there were some primitive cave-painting-type etchings on it. A Google image search taught me that this is what damage from an emerald ash borer looks like.

abecedarian for 2021

                           OR

Anyway, innocence is a thing I overcome

By becoming a small offering of silence, 

Certain so many things never end at all.  

Destiny--these paths forking to multiply

Erupts into our endings and beginnings

Frames all the lessons I just won't heed

Unfolding in tedious, untidy symmetry

up and down

So many of my Lansing/MSU friends have started using this screenshot as their profile picture, so Nu and I had to watch Don't Look Up, which is the usual Adam McKay genius with many, many moments of cringe and chuckles. It's kind of an allegory for climate change, but works great as a read on the pandemic too. 

Speaking of which, Big A felt a bit symptomatic and we've quarantined him. We tried to order home tests, but of course nothing's readily available. I asked around, and the lovely SH who was saving some for the baby shower let me have a couple. 

He tested negative, but perhaps it's too early? I mean does one have to wait a while? This feels like taking a pregnancy test the day after sex.