Bloomsbury: reception

The class got a special tour through Bloomsbury with performances from Mike and Cindy. 

A person who yawned in class when I lectured on T. S. Eliot and E. M. Forster and Virginia Woolf and Rabindranath Tagore is all smiles here. My feelings aren't hurt or anything. 😉

Pic: Mike and Cindy enacting Hilda Doolittle(H.D.)'s dance of adultery.

London: up, down, and all around

I sleep badly and irresponsibly in every time zone. 

Last night, I stayed up past 2 am GMT reading every obituary I could find for Dooce. I was devastated to hear she had died...  by suicide... the day before... and how little coverage there was. Jezebel.com which used to cover her breathlessly hasn't even mentioned her death. I realize she'd done some TERF-y stuff lately, but the silence is depressing. 

I don't know when I fell asleep, but we were on for a tour around London today. We read landmarks of poetry at various London landmarks. The top favorite, I think, was Patience Agbabi's "London Eye," which cleverly references Wordsworths's Westminster Bridge poem. 

Nicole and NGS, thank you for your podcast rec of Stuff the British Stole! It's going on my class notes for tomorrow.  

Pic: Our Thames river cruise with the London Eye in the background. I told my students how lovely they were about not complaining when I asked them to pose for pics. (At and Nu would never.)

The British Museum: just saying no (to cultural theft)

Everyone in class is tickled by the fact that the British Museum is older than the United States. And everyone in class is outraged about much it owns and how it "loans" (ha!) stuff back to countries and communities of origin. 

We prepped for our visit by reading lots of poems linked to artifacts at the museum. Some of what we read:
W.B. Yeats “The Second Coming” 
Thomas Hardy “In the British Museum” 
Daljit Nagra "Hadrian's Wall" 
George the Poet “The Benin Bronze” 
John Keats “On Seeing the Elgin Marbles” 
Percy Bysshe Shelley “Ozymandias”
Seamus Heaney “Punishment”

Then we waded through museum studies videos and articles to work our way around themes of cultural appreciation, appropriation, colonial theft, etc. At our visit, I polled the group to see if they thought we ought to--as the museum suggests--make a donation. They went with "Hell no!" 

Pic: Under the beautiful dome of the British Museum today.
 

London: fuzzy glimmers

I, along with tons of people on the internet, learned about "glimmers," which are "the opposite of triggers" on CupOfJo (and elsewhere) this weekend. I cannot say how much I love this concept.

A bit jet-lagged and tired today, but here are a couple of glimmers.

* Made a quick trip to the local Sainsbury's and I found my favorite mango-passionfruit yogurt. Why do they not have this in the US? It's the most sublime flavor IMO and the first spoonful just took me back to uni days.  

* Someone texted me that they got a 4.0 on a test and I haven't figured out who it is--whether friend or student or advisee or kid of a friend, etc... but I'm so happy for them!

Pic: A fuzzy picture of the view from my room (we're right in the heart of Bloomsbury).

Let's do this!

I wasn't packed for The Empire Writes Back: Cosmopolitan England trip at 9 am, but by 9:45, I was all packed. It helped that I had a mental list and the physical list I'd shared with students to work with. Also it's a work trip, so I don't have to look "cute," just capable--so I've relied on my work uniform of pants and blouses. I know from experience that when I take off with Big A for our annual honeymoon, I stress about what to pack a lot, lot more. I have a carryon only again. I overcame the problem of how to take two weeks of shampoo and body-wash in my carryon by buying some nice bar soap and a shampoo bar. (No idea how they work yet, though.)

I'm not worried about Nu, because they have At and Big A and L to take care of them. I am worried about Huck because although she has everyone to look after her too, she's so lonely now and I don't want her to think Mama died too. 

Speaking of which, once I was packed I had nothing to do but worry about the million different things that could go wrong with my meticulously laid plans for the next two weeks. But I just checked in on student travel journals and their excitement is catching... Let's do this! 

Pic: My students and I have matching scarves on our backpacks so we can ID each other even without faces. 

balance sheet

Things I've done: Stocked the fridge, used up all the fridge veggies, watered all my plants, finished class prep for the next week, talked with/texted everyone, cleared brush, distributed the morels we found yesterday, read a ton, cried about Scout, spent extra time with Nu and Huck, fought with Big A, made up with Big A, took long soaks and longer walks...

Things I've not done: actually packed for the two-week trip to the UK my students and I are leaving on tomorrow. Yikes.

Pic: Walk with L in Baker Woods. Trillium in the foreground! L and I found this patch right as we were wondering if we would see some. It was like we had magically summoned them. Trillium! 
 

labor/leisure

Big A and I decided against a walk (MSU graduation day is today and campus seemed overrun) and worked on clearing out brush in the woodsy patches alongside the driveway instead. We got a lot done, but we have tons more to do--raking is probably next as dead leaves are choking the ground cover.

I took no breaks, but I did get distracted... I was excited to find a morel and then found about twenty more. I've been checking the patch in the S.E. corner by the fallen elm since the rains, but I think that area has been blitzed too thoroughly by the mower to produce anymore. So happy to find this new (to me) patch. 

Pic: Big A with a big stick. I call him the "branch manager" when he gets too bossy. 

remembering

sometimes it takes me all night
to  believe in myself
the buckling swirling sweetness
of time a delusion

I believe in stories the dark tells

plots strange as stars 

whole galaxies of grief and strife

open sleepless portals

to ghosts who listen to questions

with growing hunger 

visits (pasts and futures)

I had to visit my CASA kids at the Luce Road school today. I got such a running tackle-hug combo when CD spied me walking down the hallway. Then their aide reminded them to use "walking feet" in the hallway, and I remembered how I love elementary school sociolects. And then CD began announcing loudly and proudly to everyone that I was their case worker. OMG. I love kids and their lack of filter and the weird things they're proud of. 

I also got various random kids stepping up to me to shyly say hello. I had to wonder at the combination of shyness and speaking unprompted to a stranger they didn't have to speak to. I was chuckling on the inside and all grown up on the outside. The whole thing was such a delightful interlude. 

This had been Nu's school ten years ago, so there were flashbacks to my serious kindergartner and of bringing puppy Scout to school and being told he had big feet so he'd be a big boy, etc. And then I saw Nu's first grade teacher, Ms. G. I remembered how Nu told me and Big A not to smoke (we don't) because Ms. G's parents had died from smoking. Ms. G thought it was hilarious--not her parents' deaths, but what her students' parents remember ten years on. And THEN, I saw one of MY students from five years ago, whom I had mentioned in class just this morning (for the random reason of them having been a picky eater on our London trip). That was truly bonkers.

Today brought many smiles. And Big A will be back home tonight too...  (Just seven more trips to Milwaukee before his job moves back to Michigan. YAY!!)

Pic: Wandering with Huck in the backyard... there's grass growing inside this tree hollow!

sorrow bird song

a sorrow bird sits in the tree outside
she'll sing her terrible song

when I notice her

the buds on the branch are waiting 

they'll crawl into yearning

when her song opens 

I pretend I don't need to hear her go

ah--for what is life, what is life 

without pause or answer

I say goodbye to all that before it starts

it turns out, I've gotten quite good 

at repeating goodbye

Pic: Such a grey day today, but no rain at least. Huck and I found all this greening when we dropped Nu off at the school bus stop. Scout would have made us late with all the things he'd have wanted to sniff on the way.

stay

my love   spills   like an accident 

becomes the far, blue soup 

of the sky 

even the longest goodbyes end
even the deepest breaths 

end with why

and how we lean into earth's pull

until    nothing   becomes 

the only thing

I could try to    open    my heart 
I could try to let you go 

but you won't go

sitting with sorrow

Friends have been incredibly supportive and I am so grateful for friends who understand, are trying to understand, or are simply there for me as I grieve Scout. Friends who make themselves available, check in via text and visits, send cards in the mail, bring deserts I do not need, or simply sit with me while I sob, etc...

I wonder if I appreciate this so much because it's culturally different from how I grew up, where you're expected to put grief away within a "suitable" interval. 

I was reminded of this over the weekend when I broke down while I was talking with my sister, and she told me sternly to pull myself together for the sake of the other kids. My sister loves me very much, and I suspect she phrased it like that believing it to be the most effective way to stop my tears (and because she loves me so much that hearing me cry makes her sad). But also, I already do a lot of "pulling it together" so I can give the kids or my students my best self and I was hoping to let my guard down with her... so... 

Pic: A card from KB arrived in the mail today... what a perfect image and sentiment.

Pre-birthday

Someone's turning 24 (24!!) in a couple of days. We celebrated today because 24-year-olds are busy people.

Biryani, cake, and presents at home and then we headed to a showing of How to Blow up a Pipeline. Just saying the title out loud when asking for tickets made me feel a bit anxious, honestly. I kept asking the kids--does it have a "How" in the title? I told them I didn't want to be like that long-ago friend who used to refer to To Kill a Mockingbird as How to Kill a Mockingbird. 

My Spring term class starts tomorrow. Somehow in this nightmarish, tear-soaked week, I've managed to finish prepping and sharing course materials. Early.

Pic: At with cake and presents.

long-distance relationship

all love is a long-distance relationship
nowhere is the beloved right here 
never is there enough time

fates stir in this flesh

the slow allotment of our time 

moving from complicated to complete 

in the aftermath

There's just been a lot of sad sleeping around here, including--especially--by Huckie. JS kindly offered to hold a puppy playdate with her Maeve, but it rained all day, so we had to cancel. 

Although I've been home this week, I've been working on finalizing prep for the course that starts on Monday. Thankfully, Big A is back today, so I'm not solely responsible for caring for all the sad babies.

Pic: Huck fast asleep with "Buddy" who looks like a baby Goldendoodle. Buddy used to be Nu's but we decided Huckie needed a lovey. (She wasn't really hugging him, I slipped him under her arm.)

pick me up

L took me to our daffodil hill yesterday as a sort of pick me up so I would get out of my thoughts and the house for a bit. The daffs were gorge although seemingly a bit past their peak season... Between L having trouble with her leg and Scout's sickness, we haven't done a lot of hiking this year. 

Yet. 

I expect that will change. 

What I did not expect was the call from the crematorium telling me Scout's ashes were ready to be picked up (we were told it would take a week). I was happy to pick up within the hour; it feels oddly comforting to have him back in whatever form. Predictably I cried before and after... but I smiled at the end of the day when I saw that I'd made a note on my calendar to "pick up Scout" so breezily as though I was going to pick him up from the vet or the groomer's.

Pic: MSU Radiology Gardens daffodil hill with L yesterday. Does that cloud in the center look a bit like Scoutie?

sharing

I wrote a long-ish post on Facebook to share about Scout as though telling everyone I know would make it seem more real. 

Mostly stuff I've been sharing here for weeks... with the addition our perfect last day... We'd made grilled cheese, had fried bananas and icecream (his favorite), and took a family nap in the rumpus room. Scout went from At and me on one couch to Big A and Huckie on the other, before curling up with Nu on the floor. We took another tiny walk in the backyard and then Dr. R came. Scout went too quickly. The Doc said it would take 10-15 minutes, but it took Scout barely a minute. My baby must have been so ready.

I'm glad I shared on FB. There was so much love for Scout and so many well wishes on his onward journey. They had just started at the crematorium, so this was a send off with people all over the world wishing him well as I listened to the Aditya Hridayam over and over. I had mentioned on the post how he'd never managed to make a kitty friend despite trying very hard, and it led to the sweetest blessing from a high school friend: "may he finally make friends with the kittens... they are definitely friendlier where he is."

the day after

It feels empty. 

I feel emptied out.

My eyes and head hurt.

My whole body hurts.

(But I have a very clean house.)

Scout Akshaya

April 14, 2013 - April 24, 2023

a forever love

the boy with a blaze

Stuff's getting real. When Nu headed up to bed tonight, they said wonderingly that this would be the last time they would be saying goodnight to Scout. So yes, a lot of "lasts" today. Also a lot of locking myself in a room with Big A and just sobbing, sobbing, sobbing.

But also such a good day when we got to do all the things Scout loves, and he had a bit of an appetite so lots of treats and pancakes and pizza. We went for a slow walk in the backyard and he even did a little jog back to me. And--I thought I'd never see it again as he hadn't done this since his E.R. visit--he did his "wolf puppy" bit where he wriggles on his back growling softly and then I ask "is that my wolf puppy with a fuzzy belly?" and rub his fuzzy belly. (I didn't actually rub his belly, because that's where his internal bleed is, I rubbed the little blaze on his chest instead.)

And I thank the universe for friends who have been checking in on us and sending love. And sometimes accommodating weird requests from me. Like, I'm not sure if an afterlife exists, but I was nevertheless in a panic this afternoon because Scout wouldn't know anyone there until I remembered one of my favorites--Big Murphy our old neighbor who'd taken puppy Scout under his wing to teach him all the doggie stuff. So I messaged NGF (my bestie and also the person in my will in charge of making medical decisions on my behalf in case Big A is unable) and asked if she could ask her Murphy to look out for Scout and she immediately said she'd let Murph know to look out for Scout and hangout with him. And now I feel there's a plan beyond the vet and beyond the goodbyes.

I guess it's tomorrow now. I've gone over the plan over and over in my head, but I'm not ready. 

Pic: Scout at two weeks old. It would be another six weeks before we could bring him home, but we'd all fallen in love and I was already calling him my "blaze-y boy" although Aunt R said he looked like a "potato."

Bunnies and Fried Bananas

Bunnies: That time one early, misty morning when Scout saw a bunny (or "baila rabbit" in Nu speak) for the first time. He was so overcome by wonder, he gave himself a shake and promptly sat himself down as if deciding to take some time to process this magical being. He's since chased many bunnies in the backyard, but that first one was a vision.

Fried Bananas: That time when Scout was crying... scampering between the rest of us eating Thai takeout in the rumpus room and the kitchen until we got up to look... It turned out he was crying because he'd helped himself to the fried bananas, but he'd now nosed the container too far across the counter and couldn't reach his self-bestowed treats anymore. He usually gets some banana after dinner most days.

Pic: First road trip with At, Scout, and Nu together; circa 2013.

"how can you just leave me standing/alone in a world so cold"*

We never had pets growing up because my parents thought I was incapable of handling the inevitable reality of pet loss--talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy! (To be fair, this was probably well grounded, because I would do stuff like cry for hours about hurt butterflies and birds and whatnot. I wasn't an easy child.)

This means that when I met Scout, I just fell so hard for him. He was my dream puppy baby and when Huckie came along the next year, they became the perpetual toddlers in the large family I yearned for. Big A and I have always been "Dada" and "Mama" to them.

So these ten years with Scout coincide with some of the most golden years of my parenting life--the mischief and unpredictability and joy and surprise and beauty and busyness--and saying goodbye to Scout feels like saying goodbye to a stage of life I loved so much. It's one of the few periods I'd be happy to live through all over again. Wish you could stay, Scoutie. You're always so wonderful at helping me figure things out.   

Pic: A light saber fight (dance?) from 2013. Scout has the green light saber, he played with it all that summer and chewed off the tip and yes--I still have it. 

Title: Today marks seven years since Prince left us--also too soon.

it's almost time

This morning I had to pry Scout's wolf mouth open to slide pills hidden in a lump of icecream into him. These last couple of days have been the first time Scout has ever been uninterested in food or the outdoors. Everyone said Scout would let us know when it was time... it feels like he's telling us now.

He's so weary, but still the Scoutie who wants to be as near us and get all the pets as possible though. I want for Scout what I'd want for myself--to pass away at home surrounded by loved ones. We have an appointment with the hospice vet for Monday. 

Pic: One of my favorite pictures of Scout. In the old house, he'd lean on the window sill with his stuffie under one arm and get so excited if he saw any creatures swim past us in the river. He wanted to be friends with every living thing when he was a baby. I first posted this here.
 

lament

every day is goodbye  

                                       every breath is a sigh    

every day a library of sadness circulates inside

                                        every day is goodbye

every breath is a sigh   

every day another opportunity to dream/decide

every day is goodbye       every breath is a sigh    

some day you will have    known me not to cry

as sharp shards of hope               scrape for joy 

every day is goodbye       

every breath is a sigh 

Pic: Daffodils, MSU Beal Gardens

photo swap

Thank you for all the good wishes and confidence in my ability to take good photos. The photographer turned out to be the partner of someone I adore in one of my classes, so I felt quite at ease + I wore an Indian scarf and felt grounded and comfortable. 

Despite all that though, I somehow look exceedingly stiff and startled in the picture. Ah. C'est la vie. It's unlikely that this copyrighted, corporate photo will be used for anything other than the press release anyway. 

Pic: The photo that brought me joy today was Nu's picture of Scout and Huck keeping me warm. Their touching butts make a heart shape if you squint just right.

slowly

Kind of a slow day over here. Big A did the 36-mile Barry Roubaix this weekend and it seems to have rendered him both sore and silent. At some point on our very long walk, I asked him what he was thinking about:

Big A: Cycling. 

Me: What about it? 

Big A: How to do it faster...

Me: Faster? How?

Big A: I have to pedal faster. 

Scintillating. It was a good day for Scout and us, but we're heavy with dread.

In other news, I panicked because I have to get headshots taken tomorrow. I asked a couple of my networking groups for tips because I can be camera-averse + awkward + preoccupied by Scout. People were so kind and someone posted this YouTube link that really helped. 

Pic: A turtle sunning itself on a rock. Red Cedar River, walk with Big A.

"cherry blossoms fill the air"*

It rained all day, but both our cherry trees are in bloom--overnight and within a day of each other.

But At was home for dinner and Big A leaves tomorrow for MKE, so I took the annual cherry blossom family picture today. 

This is weeks earlier than any other year I can remember. 

Temps had dropped thirty degrees over the course of the day (from 75-35 degrees), and Nu urged me to hurry up with the pictures because they were cold.

I was worried about the tiny sprints Scout broke into a couple of times (the doc has advised against running). But At said something that made me think--"imagine how happy he must be that he feels he can run again." 💗

Pic: Scout, At, Nu, Big A, and Huck between the cherry trees.

*Title: from a song At used to sing to Nu while they were in my belly. Video version here. 

I guess I won something...

I attended yesterday's faculty meeting virtually because I wanted to get home to Scoutie. The sound was iffy from the beginning, but completely cut out right as the Prez announced the tenured faculty teaching award. 

I gathered (from chat and texts) that apparently I was the one who won it this year? Yay! Yay? It feels unreal and anti-climatic, because I missed the nice stuff I could see him saying about why I was nominated etc. I can't help noticing how uncharacteristically unexcited I am about this right now.

Usually, my students win awards. Ironically, this year--my students were runners up and I have this award. Honestly, I prefer it the other way--awards definitely mean more to them as they set off on their post-graduate careers. 

Pic: Scout and Huck sniffing spring and deer smells. Good day for Scout, but he just looks so tired in photos lately. 

springing

I got an hour of sleep last night. There are inscrutable little comments and emails from me with time stamps ranging from 1:30 am (when I headed up to bed) to 4:30 am (when I fell asleep) all over the place. 

Then I had a dream where Nicole and StephLove visited me--I lived in a flooding basement apartment, the leak from the street-level windows springing up like tears. Happy times. But I remember smiling because Nicole asked, with gentle curiosity if "the seal would hold"--and I remember thinking how like her to address an issue without alarming everyone.

EM and I did a 40-minute version of our "Hope as a Cognitive Process" workshop for the WGS Consortium out of the U of Wisconsin this morning. It feels like we have enough to turn our spiel into an article. For the first time, editors have been sending us queries for an (as yet) unwritten article. That feels kinda fast track; kinda high pressure. 

My breathless delivery of all this news = my high because Scout is having a good day after the okayest day yesterday. 

Pic: It's spring everywhere and seemingly all at once--on my walk with Big A this morning, both the forsythia and the willow were in rival shades of yellow along the Red Cedar.
 

spinning

It's no secret that Big A is a more indulgent puppy kid parent than a human kid parent... and it's no surprise that Scout's condition hit him hard. I've had to be the emotionally supportive partner more than I can ever remember being. 

I was kind of depending on Big A because... what do I know--Scout is my first ever pet and all I've ever done is read books. Big A is an emergency physician, he had a lot of pets growing up--he'd know what to do, right? No. Families make end of life decisions not healthcare providers, and all his pets "got given away or run over" and hearing that made me want to cry all over again.

Anyway, last day of classes today and then a wine-and-cheese thing at our college President's house. When Prez A politely asked me how I was, I started telling him about my dying puppy (face palm). He then valiantly saved the conversation by telling me that he and Big A follow each other on Zwift, so we were able to turn back to safer topics before I had a meltdown.

Pic: Big A with Scout and Huck post backyard walk; a glimpse of me in the mirror.

tiny, beautiful things

The hospice vet visited this morning--everyone I asked recommended her, and she lives up to all the wonderful things people said about her. We now have a sort of plan: we are to call her when the bad days begin to outnumber the good days. 

Today was a bad day, FTR. On good days, I feel Scout could go on for months; on bad days I wait for the next good day. I was such a mess today; in meetings, I could definitely feel myself bringing people down with my horrible energy.

Also, it's not helping that I've been watching Tiny, Beautiful Things, which is devastating. It's based on the Cheryl Strayed book and I cry through half the show at least. When I peeked at the book, it looks really different in structure, so I'm going to have to get it and read it. And cry some more.

Pic: Scout and Huck love this little dell with its carpet of tiny bluets in April and I'm glad I got this picture of them together so carefully sniffing everything.

living in hope

My colleague-friend, who helped me get to Scout and lost her own puppy unexpectedly that same week, thinks Scout died too. It makes sense because Scout's death seemed so imminent ("a matter of hours to days") and also I kind of avoided her question about Scout when we were texting in the aftermath of her loss. It seemed such an unfair allocation of fate.

Anyway, the hospice vet is coming to check on Scout tomorrow. There is no good news (if the internal bleeding doesn't take him out, they say the tumors causing it surely will). But friends tell me their own loves have lived up to a year with similar diagnoses, and so I live in hope. 

playing catch up

I really did take the weekend off for once, so there was a ton of Monday stuff to get through this morning... almost all done now. I worked so single-mindedly that when I got up at the end of that session, I was quite dizzy. I keep thinking I should set a timer for an hour to remind myself to move/drink water/give my eyes a break. I should just do it already.

Scout and Huck are a bit miffed about the end of Easter weekend; Nu has a ton of PSAT testing this week so they're taking things easy; At showed up for dinner with a couple of his labor friends; Big A returns tomorrow; this is the last week of classes for me. There! All caught up.

Pic: Scout! These days I follow him around the way he usually follows me. 

Happy Easter

A gorgeous day and I got to spend it all with all my babies. 

We did our usual egg hunt in the backyard with rhyming clues.  This year the clue At and Nu found tough was the one that rhymed rains/cranes... they kept getting stuck... "wains?" "brains?" That sounded so zombie-like, it made me laugh. A lot.

My heart is full today. Christmases, birthdays, and Easter make Scout and Huck especially bonkers with happiness--I feel happy we got to do another Easter with Scoutie.

Pic: Can you see all four kids? I thought the tree shadows looked so cool.

saying yes

Yes, it was a good day for Scout today. He loves a good Easter egg hunt, so I'm extra glad he's with us tomorrow. 

The vet gave us Yunan Baiyao--a Chinese herb cocktail that seems to be helping with the internal bleeding; it won't cure the tumors, but I say yes to whatever extra days Scout can spend with us. 

I checked with the hospice vet that I'm not saying yes at the expense of Scout's well being. They gave us a quality of life and pain scale interpreter, and apart from the very bad days (3/31, 4/1, and 4/6), the other days have been alright... 

I can still see Scout being himself. This morning he saw me after his short ramble in the backyard and started to run towards me the way he always does. I was afraid he would restart his internal bleed and started saying "slowly, Scout, slowly"--but he heard his name and thought I was calling him and ran harder. I watched for his belly to distend all morning, but so far so good.

Pic: EM took this photo of Scout and me this afternoon when she visited. I'll treasure this one. As I'm the official picture taker in the family, there aren't enough pictures of me and Scout together. When people ask if they can take my picture these days, I say yes (even if my face is tear-streaked, my hair is a mess, and my bra strap is showing).

can't make up how scary life's randomness can be

Last week when I was in Denver freaking out about Scout, my friend/colleague LV was the absolute best.

 She let me vent and ugly cry, she sat with me close enough to talk or to be quiet, did stuff with students I did not have the energy for, drove me home from the airport so I'd not have to wait for the airport shuttle and could get home to see Scout two hours earlier... and so much more.

Her puppy--her two-year-old puppy--died today from a bowel obstruction and emergency surgery.

I can't.

impressive

Honors Day has got to be my favorite; I'm thoroughly impressed by the work student-people do (even when I've seen the work in process and up close for nearly a year). 

Also: everything was this close. The student whose work I had sponsored was the runner up for the Kapp prize, the student whom I had nominated for a Barlow was also a runner up. A certain someone gave a winning introductory speech at the fancy dinner though (it was me!).

If I sound hyper and/or cocky it's because I'm thrilled I get to have another night spooning Scout. When I left him in Big A's care this morning he was doing so badly, we'd decided to call hospice at the end of the day. I had that hanging over my head as I went to student panels--turning on my good energy, going back to my office between panels to panic and cry, then back to panels again. I kind of impressed myself by how well I could fake seeming normal in between crying on the phone to my sister and KB, crying on text to EM and LB etc.

Then Big A texted that Scout had started to rally--he'd even made it outside. It's kind of impressive that Scout has made it to the one-week mark at this point. He's way worse than he was a week ago, and his breathing is sometimes noisy and heartbreakingly labored. But he doesn't seem to be in pain and he's calm, content, and here.  

Pic: Big A's photo of the sibs together.

more goodbye

I got greedy. 

At first I was just so grateful Scout was still here when I got back from Denver. Then I wanted more. My return perked him up and Sunday was such a very good day... so I began to feel the docs were wrong, and he'd somehow make it through.  

But after we got the second opinion and Scout got that semi shave, he seems to be declining again and not even I can ignore that everything seems to be a struggle for him right now.

I'm in no way prepared for a life without Scout.

Friends have been coming by to say goodbye...

Pic: BSL with Scout; Huckie sneaks a kiss.
 

favorite child

Pic: I've been thinking of this post from two years ago a lot. It's clear now, despite all my previous protestations, that I do have a favorite child... and Scout is it. 

"yesterday... all my troubles seemed so far away"

(Sounds weird to say it, but...) I had a great day yesterday. 

On Friday, the E.R. doc had said that it was merely a matter of "hours or days" for Scout, so getting home a day and a half later and seeing him wag his tail in greeting and get on his feet for pets from me was terrific in itself.

And then I got to have all my kids at breakfast (two at the counter, the other two on the floor) wanting attention, sharing news, being themselves. Really... it's what I've missed every day since At went away to college. I spent the rest of the morning talking/reading --At's head in my lap; Nu (who's way less touchy-feely) on the sofa next to me, letting me squeeze their shoulder now and then; Scout and Huckie snuggled up on my other side. Then I made lunch for everyone. Then people went off to do their own thing for a while. Then I made dinner for everyone. Then we watched a show and played word games. It was like an ordinary and perfect Sunday.

And maybe I'm only seeing what I want to see, but while Scout does look unwell, he doesn't look like he's at death's door. For hours at a time, I could almost forget that the options we'd been given for Scout were surgery (with a failure rate of 7/10) and "humane euthanasia." 

Today we took Scout to another hospital for a second opinion, because surely those can't be the only options? But no--those are the only options. He's hospitalized for the day so they can do a detailed ultrasound to determine if surgery is even viable, and then we get to have that discussion about whether to put him through surgery all over again. 

I'm not having a great day today. Going this whole day without Scout when our days together are so numbered seems especially stupid. 

Pic: Scout (and Huckie) following me around yesterday.

hanging in there

Scout is hanging in there...

and so--

so are we. 

Pic: Scout and Nu this morning.

the waiting game

Just waiting to go home to Scout and I'm in that space where everything feels surreal, and other people seem alien.

All I've done today is cry a lot and wish for the day to pass quickly. It didn't, but no matter how slowly... time passes.

At the airport now, waiting to board the flight, which is delayed--but not by much. Fingers crossed.

stuck in Denver...

Big A is with Scout at the E.R. because my baby is not doing well. They see a lot of fluid they think is blood in his ultrasound and... it doesn't look good.

Over the last couple of years, Scout has run into health problems and I've involuntarily imagined the end. In none of those scenarios did I ever imagine that I wouldn't be right there with him. 

I'm scheduled to leave for home at midnight tomorrow. And there are no other available flights that get me in earlier...

I don't know how I'm going to get through the next 36 hours before I see Scout. I hope I see Scout. 

Pic: From the walkway bridge inside the hotel when I didn't know Scout was declining.

2016 redux: good bones, breaking news

You've surely read Maggie Smith's poem "Good Bones," which went viral in 2016 and you should read the article she published in The Cut yesterday about how her fame led to the breakdown of her marriage. Her ex sounds like a dick--any marriage in which one spouse becomes "the staff" in the household is deeply unjust and unloving.

That aside, I was distracted by her declaration that "When I walked in the door, I was married. Mrs. When I walked outside, I was divorced. Ms." This isn't the point of the article, but where does this belief that "Ms." is for divorced women come from? I thought the whole damn point of "Ms." was to move away from the marriage specificity of "Miss" and "Mrs." I was a "Ms."since I was 14? 15? Currently, I like"Mx" best of all.

I'm in Denver with our English honorary students who are presenting at the annual international convention. At and Big A are home to make sure Nu has some fun on their Spring Break. They're having sleepovers and going to movies and I'm missing them and missing out.

Pic: The kids sent me this candid of Big A at the moment he found out about Trump being indicted for the 2016 hush money payment. Has any photo demonstrated more "fuck around and you'll find out" energy?

the mom who changed

I'm older, my mom is old... and I've mostly stopped trying to change her mind about stuff. We're both stubborn, we rarely persuade each other, and she gets pretty upset.

This morning she said something bigoted on the family chat, and I couldn't let it go. So I texted back some links about why she was wrong. She  texted back, cheekily, "Om Namo Namaha Lecture-ji" (vague translation: "I bow to you, respected lecturer").

I just giggled when I read that. I have no illusions that I changed her mind--but it does mean I got to see my mom deescalate a situation for what feels like the first time in my life.

by night and candlelight

I found this lovely Jeanette Winterson lifestyle quote yesterday, which got me reassessing dawn and dusk:

"I have noticed that when all the lights are on, people tend to talk about what they are doing–their outer lives. Sitting round in candlelight or firelight, people start to talk about how they are feeling–their inner lives... To sit alone without any electric light is curiously creative. I have my best ideas at dawn or at nightfall, but not if I switch on the lights...." (The entire thing, including some yummy food ideas, is here.)

I started today with a candlelight meditation... and look at me now, headed to bed before midnight like some fucking champion functioning adult.

Pic: A single lit votive brings glimmer to everyday objects. (The tiny, dried wildflowers I bought home from Las Ramblas last summer are a shot of joy every time I look at them. I remember how the vendor was so engrossed in his book, he didn't even look up as he pocketed the Euro I held out and handed this bunch over to me.)

best friends

Scout's still lagging. I've been told to keep an eye on him, so that's what I'm doing. He seems a bit better today, but I'm not sure if that's just me seeing what I want to see.

Anyway, I'm spending a lot of time daydreaming about my India trip in August and writing back all the school friends who remembered me on my birthday. And it got me thinking back to those intense friendships of girlhood where I'd spend all day passing notes in class and come home to talk for hours on the telephone to the same people. I really had nothing going on in my life then, so I can't even imagine what we talked about.

It blew my mind when I realized that SD my bestest friend through grades 6-10 (Holy Angels Convent) and NJ, my bestest friend in grades 10-12 (Sacred Heart School) have never met each other despite living in the same city... and the same neighborhood (Adayar) all these decades. How did that happen? When I told my sister this, she didn't think it was surprising at all. I guess when you live in a big city, your standards for accidental meetings are different. Also--I think new best friend and old best friend may have been somewhat wary of each other back then? We're all so much more mellow now... I'm wondering if I should introduce SD and NJ to each other after all these years this August or if the universe will implode in some way if I do.

Pic: Huck urging Scout--"hurry up, catch up!"

Spring things

Scout isn't feeling very well, so we went outside to work in the garden, because he likes to hang out with me there. And look! Hellebores are coming up around the pond. It definitely gave my heart a much-needed lift. 

But I think I'll call the vet tomorrow if Scout doesn't seem better. I just listened to a show where Karen Fine, who's promoting her new book The Other Family Doctor, talked about her life as a veterinarian--so I have the feeling "doesn't seem like himself" is a perfectly acceptable symptom.

At stopped by for family dinner, and I made Kothu Paratha, which is typically made from leftover parathas and curry... which we didn't have. So I made everything from scratch and now we have some tasty leftovers. 

While At was here, they got a text from Jaz Brisak for the first time and it was fun seeing them figure out what to text back without sounding too much like a stan. I think excitement was definitely warranted;  I mean, I was excited. Then At and I went for a long walk-and-talk in the springy drizzle. Lots of walking, lots of talking--until it got too wet and cold for me, and I caved and suggested we go inside. 

And that's the end of the weekend! But Nu is on Spring Break this week, so things should feel a little lighter.

Pic: Hellebores and little yellow pods I can't identify.

complex bedtime procrastination: am I up early or up late?

I'm putting it out into the universe that I need to get better at sleep hygiene. Is it even revenge bedtime procrastination if what I'm doing obsessively at 3:00 am is work-related? (I was Spring Term visioning last night.) 

I make a lot of excuses: I need to spend time downstairs with Scout and Huck (Scout cannot do stairs anymore and does not like to be carried); Big A works nights and has a messed up sleep schedule and I'm sympathy messing up my sleep schedule (but he can sleep during the day and I can't); I seem to be getting by fine with 3-4 hours in bed (but surely this cannot be good for me?); when Big A is at work, I'm a bit too anxious to sleep (and then we text a lot in the middle of the night and I like doing that); the afore-mentioned revenge bedtime procrastination after long work days (when I'm reading or scrolling with heavy eyes and fingers).

Stuff's complex, but I'm sure there are hacks to deal with each element of this. 

Pic: In other news, I didn't leave the house at all today--a combination of exhaustion, midday work meeting, rainy day, eyebrow zit, weekend, Nu on Spring break, etc. So this picture is from last week's solo walk on the MSU campus. I love the simplicity, vagueness, and the enthusiasm. And I heart exclamation points!

conjectural

I've been hearing that people who think they're attractive prefer not to mask. I mask everywhere--read into that what you will. 

However, I'm still vain enough that if my eyebrow piercing were infected and zitty looking, I'd wear beanie pulled over it all day at work.

Just saying.

Pic: Me in my office this morning.
 

a feminist fair

We held our eighth WGS Symposium today, and students did SUCH a great job. I was a bit miffed on their behalf that we didn't get a bigger crowd. They worked so hard and were so creative in their projects--they deserve ALL the acclaim.

I have been bragging      
about     
these people    
for           

years now. 

I took tons of photos as usual. My favorite this year has to be the poster about men's mental health surrounded by the smiling faces of the many guys who came out to support their friend. 

I feel so hopeful around my students. 😍 

Pic: The Gender-affirming table with pronoun pins, and a blank U.S. map to test attendees' knowledge of trans-exclusionary states.

show and tell

L is back! L is back! But just for 24 hours. She's leaving again tomorrow, headed west and then south for weddings and what she's calling a "birthday for the masses."

L has been gone for a month, and we've missed each other dearly. It was good to spend some time early this morning bringing each other up to date on all the things we'd been saving to share. And while we didn't go on one of our legendary hikes, as her leg isn't feeling normal yet, we made it to the Radiology Gardens. 

People in other parts of the country have been posting crocuses, daffodils, and cherry blossoms... nothing's coming up here except maybe hellebores. We're not there yet, but I can sense Spring, and am so excited for it. 

Later in the day, At invited me to the Starbucks down the street... to protest... as they were having a "sip-in." But I couldn't go this time. And then At and Nu went to see Lynn Nottage's Sweat at the Wharton. I would have liked to go with them, but no one asked me. Whomp-whomp. Also, I had a meeting. Whomp-whomp-whomp.

Pic: Aconites and snowdrops under a bare Linden tree. MSU Radiology Gardens.

From the Dictionary of Sleeplessness

memory is just a mix-and-match
of a hundred doors and 

a hundred songs 

reverie is very nearly recovery

the surprise surplus from  

my unspent dreams

mystery is a mess of meditation

the splash of insight amidst

the magic wreckage

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

Pic: On a day I needed kindness, waiting at my office door were kind words and a Princely present from CW--student-teacher and barista extraordinaire. I get by purely because there are so many kind and lovely people in the world who help me through this thing called life.

boop

Some days are just about Huckleberry sticking out their tongue and trying to boop you on the nose. 

That's all I have in me today.

(AI) Art Class

If it takes a special kind of nerd to sit in a classroom on Sunday afternoon, I am that nerd. 

EM and I signed up for an AI art workshop around my birthday--I'd asked friends to give me experiences/donations to RDC this year since I already have so much stuff, and this was EM's pick for me. (Let the record show I tried to make her take me to Cocaine Bear, but she balked. Even birthdays will only get you so far. Ha.)

I enjoyed the heck out of the fact that our instructor for this very new tech was a very old person. Take that, ageism! EM and I played with style and color all afternoon. It was fun, especially since I'm not an artist in real life. But like Chat GPT with writing, Dall-E is just ok. 

Also (pet peeves coming up next): I thought the point was to get AI to do the boring tasks so humans could have more time for creative ones, not vice versa. It also bugs me when corporations (via AI) steal samples from artists to make stuff (it doesn't bother me when those roles are reversed).

Pic: "Holi in the style of Marc Chagall" by Dall-E2. Love the colors, but the expressions are off; the two on the right look especially tortured.

 

Holi Heyyyy!!

I put off our Holi celebrations for a couple of weeks hoping it would seem more spring like when we celebrated since Holi is traditionally celebrated to welcome spring--but today turned out to be the coldest and windiest it has been in weeks... 

Still and all, our friends rallied and showed up despite the gusting snow flurries. We fired up a Bollywood playlist, put out Costco snacks, set out Holi colors, and a good time was had by all. 

I mean... did "Holi Heyyyy!" (It's Holi) become "Heyyyy, Holi" (Hello, Holi)? Sure; but that made it perfect in its own way.

Pic: Nu and their friends mid celebration.