not merely a reflection

Workshop on campus today... For whatever my usual BS reason(s), I got very little sleep last night. I was pretty groggy even after a strong black tea--just not enough caffeine, I guess. The adrenaline shot I got from thinking that there was a cop car behind me as I was merrily speeding along to work woke me up nicely though. Ha.

When I stopped by my office during a break, I realized it had hosted a small miracle, as my plants were mostly ok although they hadn't been watered since Friday, May 5th... before I left for the UK...  a whole month! My geraniums were even in bloom. They got a heartfelt thank you and a good soaking today.

Oh, I had to take a break in my office because I teared up a few times because of mentions of Scout, and I could feel a good cry coming. I'm glad people get it. Even the colleague who said "I don't mean to sound callous, but it is a dog" is trying, IMO.

Pic: Radiology Gardens with L last week. The orange shadows in the water are koi--not merely a reflection of the red maple in the back...

closer

I feel bad because I broke my shopping ban and did some online shopping last week. (1) I got suckered into the Loft sale and got a couple of things I DO NOT need. Better a Loft spree than an Anthro spree, I suppose. (2) However, no regrets on the 12-dollar sunnies I ordered for vacation, they showed up, and they're awesome. (3) I'm going to keep Craft and Conscience by my friend Kavita Das, which I ordered for At, a bit longer to myself as it seems like something I could use for a class. (4) The hammocks I ordered didn't fit our stands, so I washed the old ones and put them back on (this is what I should have done in the first place).

Otherwise, I had a lovely Boss Day...I made a risotto with feta and veggies for dinner with At, Nu, and Big A and then a cuddle/watch fest of a new season of I Think You Should Leave. 

Pic: Huck and Max get a little closer...

Max week

It has been a week of/with/at Max. 

I'm so relieved Huck and Max seem to be getting along better. They're not cuddling together (yet), but they play (fight) quite nicely and they really bonded over their mutual panic this morning when I vacuumed the whole house.

Speaking of which, I had to go into Nu's room with a handful of plastic bags and a stack of laundry baskets just to be able to see their floor... I'm not exaggerating, and I'm genuinely worried about this child's ability to live on their own in a couple of years without hoarder-level dysfunction. (Finals week is coming up for Nu, and the stress has seemingly wrought havoc on them.)

Long conversations with sis and mom this morning, while the rest of the fam was asleep, about our India visit in August. One of the things we were discussing excitedly was if we should drive or take the train on some internal trips. And then friends began to text to check in because of the horrific train crash in northern India. It doesn't seem like anyone I knew was on either passenger train, but the huge death and injury tolls are sad and terrifying.

Pic: Huck and Max sharing (the path) by Scout's memorial. 

stay

I am reading aloud to myself

you knock on the door

tell me you hear me 

talking to someone 

                                 I have continued to live here

                                 the house where you died

                                 sharpening my gaze 

                                  into time's arrows

                                                                I am saying to the empty door

                                                                there's still time to change

                                                                 the ending, we could be

                                                                 alive right now

                                                                                          Look, look, those star-shaped 

                                                                                          flowers would fit perfectly

                                                                                          into the despairing holes

                                                                                          in the sky 

half a sonnet for you

the day is a mirror
                                   it speaks in silence
only the two of us
                                   can still remember 
to laugh and laugh
                                   for  we can  laugh 

at almost anything

                                     unmastered, wild

the sun at our backs

                                     light in our eyes

our old life merely

                                     strings of memory

this new life yet

                                     in uncharted sands

Pic: Red Cedar River from the Sparty Bridge with BD.

Note: 14 half lines; about five syllables each. Kind of like one of those necklaces each one gets to keep half of.

shenanigans

Today I was busier than anyone ought to be at the start of summer--but there were huge deadlines to meet. And although I'd been working on them steadily for the past week, the final steps were still due. 

All done now (3:12 am): submitted MCTE materials, turned in Spring Term grades, approved pending NWSA proposals (and created and titled about twenty panels). Not a bad day's work. 

Remember when I wanted to set a timer to take regular breaks? Turns out I don't have to if there is a puppy who needs frequent potty breaks. So I got outside a lot too--it was gloriously summery.

Pic: Max gamboling. When you're so little, you can just slip through the fencing where mom's flowers are...

conviction

windows look to the sky

they look  like  skies

birds could fly into

weightless the horizon

and  sightless  the sky 

yet birds fly there too 

there is only waiting

and  the  wearing 

of shiny new loss

 dreaming  up  sequels

where we just call for

birds to fly through

Pic: Peonies are showing off.

Memorial Day

Yesterday we made a little Scout memorial. 

Originally, I thought we'd scatter his ashes around the bend where he'd come bounding to greet me. The wild phlox is in season again, so all that's missing from the scene of my favorite photo is Scout. But then I began to worry that if we moved to a different house in the future, we'd be leaving some part of him here, so I decided to continue to keep his ashes on the altar. As Big A pointed out, that little space off the kitchen where the altar is really is where Scout spent a lot of time hanging out with me while I meditated, or he waited for me to finish my kitchen chores, or he hung out trying to convince me to give him pets or treats.

I went through a lot of memorial stones with words on them, but I knew even as I checked with Big A that he'd find them too cheesy/ersatz. So I went with a rainbow wind chime and a solar lantern, and we set those up yesterday. I think I'll add a laminated photo to the wind chime in a bit. It was comforting to have a space for our memories of Scout while indulging in nostalgia and family hugs. And when I took Max out for a potty break at midnight, the pretty, patterned light from the perforated lantern was a sweet and steadying presence.

Pic: Scout's memorial. In the background, today's picnic with EM and Nu.

Mother's Day!! (observed!)

We celebrated Mother's Day today as I was in England on the actual day. All day long At/Nu/Big A would say "Happy Mother's Day!" And then add sotto voce--"observed!"--as though they were reading off a calendar. Perhaps you had to be there, but it was low key hilarious. 

It was a Happy Mother's Day for me. We made breakfast tacos, which turned out delicious (At and Big A took some leftovers for later). At and Nu helped me dig up and plant some redbud saplings that L gave me and then we all worked in the garden as has become our custom. At and Nu put the new garden chairs together, Huck climbed on top of the picnic table to sun herself as she always does, and Max followed me around as I weeded and puttered and then flopped into the grass by my feet to nap. When the chairs were built (hi-jinks and a few YouTube videos were involved), we picnicked with lemonade and donuts. Nu and Huck headed back inside and I had a lovely heart-to-heart with my eldest while Max napped on my feet. 

Pic: The kids with me before card, presents, and heading outside...

 

scale

Max is tiny; the responsibilities are huge. 

One forgets the massive undertaking the care and keeping of little ones can be. 

He's absolutely adorable; the way he toddles around being curious about everything is my favorite thing. What it must be to be all of eight weeks old in the world! I keep thinking Scout, friend to all beings, would have loved to play with him. 

Max likes shoes and has made a little pile of toys, shoes and hand towels in the rumpus room... I'm hoping that the people who live in my house and love their Converses, Docs, and Campers will start putting them away properly out of fear of Max now. Ha.

Pic: Nu with Huck and Max in the backyard.

no way but welcome

Max is here. Welcome, little one! 

This is a crazy idea and the timing seems way off. But I feel my heart growing as I find ways to welcome Max into the family. JN whose idea this was initially is 100% this is the right move (I was drinking a non alcoholic cider slushie yesterday so I was fully present), the rest of the family seemed convinced too, and suddenly we have a new puppy.

So far: Max, who is all of eight weeks old, is very enamored of Nu; likes to cuddle me like a lovey and sleep on my feet if I'm in a chair; pooped in the backyard three times like a champion; peed in the house twice by accident; likes walks and tolerates a leash; learned to ‘aah cheppu’ (say aah)  and eat from a spoon; is afraid of train sounds in our backyard; likes treats, but does not care for chewy treats; has learned to play with toys; has barfed up a meal; has chewed through a charging cable; is definitely the best poser in the family…

Huckie has been ignoring Max for the most part, although she's the main reason he's here. That and the fact that Max needed a family and a home. Huckie has been so forlorn since Scout. Big A and I have been worried about her going into decline as she was uninterested in most things, not eating enough, and--this part freaked us out--doing things only Scoutie used to do like refuse to use stairs, lie absolutely still with a tail wagging welcome, etc. We hope Huckie and Max will be best-friend-sibs, but if that doesn't happen, that's ok too. I'm perfectly fine if she decides to live her best life out of spite; she certainly seems more animated already.

(Scout was named for Scout Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird; Huck was named from Huckleberry Finn; Max is named for Max from Where the Wild Things Are--well, we already have a "Rumpus Room," nothing left to do but let the wild rumpus start, I suppose.)

dinnertime rapture

by day's end
the tuning fork stabbed so deep 

into my heart begins to sound 

some kind of song

and the sky is

a syrupy catastrophe--but somehow

now even moths lumbering blindly

signify hope

Pic: Smelling the lilacs with L

but I haven't told all the stories yet

It has been a month.

I'm sorry to sound like a broken record, but I can't say it out loud to other people (except Big A)... I miss Scout. I miss Scout. I miss Scout. 

I do keep telling stories about him to everyone... and sometimes if the person I'm telling the story to is a stranger I might never see again, I tell the stories in present tense as though he were alive. 

I have so many stories. How we called him the 'writing wolf', because he'd wake up and hang out with me to write. Or how we called him 'wolf puppy' when he'd writhe on his back and bare his teeth. and how--we don't have a name for this--but how he'd get upset at raised voices and bark at the person who was being mean. 

Pic: Scout running to meet me--just about two years ago. This may be my favorite (grainy, fuzzy) picture of Scout.

being back

A puttering-around and recovering kind of day...

For me that meant watering my million indoor plants, cleaning the kitchen and kitchen appliances, changing the bed linens to summer friendly fabrics and patterns, sweeping and mopping the ground floor, and so on. I'd planned to vacuum the whole house, but Nu saved me.

(Nu saved me, that is, by leaving disposable contact lens cases and clean and dirty laundry and books and toys and trash all over their bedroom floor, so I kind of gave up on domestic goddess-ing at that point and contented myself with just getting the ground floor done.)

Then Big A came back early from Milwaukee, so there was a lot of squealing, and a long Sparty hike, and a long soak, and so much jabbering. Nu came back from school and tidied a little bit. It was Big A's Boss Day, he picked Sushi, and after a family hang out, it was early bedtime for everyone (except me).

Pic: Merely one pile of the yellowing and browned leaves I picked off my plants. Thanks to Nu who did some emergency watering while I was away, they're all alive. I'm hoping I can nurse my plants back to fullness soon. 

Home: In two pics

I brought my midwestern travelers home!
I love that there are some families and parents in this picture too...

Reunited with my babies! They took this selfie looming over me as I was falling asleep on the couch around 8:00 pm.

 

Karl Marx, Gordon Ramsay, Farewell London

Last day in London today. I'd signed us up for a Karl Marx walking tour, but most people wanted to try to get on the London Eye, so off they went with my blessings. I took the bus to Piccadilly Sq. to meet the walking group and milled about on the fringes of a well-heeled, Boomer-ish looking group until I realized they were there for The Beatles walking tour. A few feet away a smaller, rag-tag group was beginning to gather and when I tentatively asked "Marx?" They responded "Yes!" and "Absolutely!" so enthusiastically I felt I was at a political rally.🙂

The guide has a doctorate in Marx studies, and although the sights themselves were merely the seedy front of buildings and smelly alleys, I learned A LOT. The best moment was towards the end of the tour when hearing about Eugene Pottier's travel through England, our multicultural group began to sing The Internationale in their native tongues.

So I had a super nerdy day by myself, then a farewell dinner with the group at Gordon Ramsay's restaurant recommended by a student, where we celebrated another student's birthday, and suddenly everyone seemed super sad to leave and "return to reality." I love these people. But also, I miss my babies, and am ready for my routines and grappling with the reality of a life without Scout. 

we got jokes

 

I miss my irreverent and rowdy family.

in the now

Now comes light and kindness

now vagrant  looks and opaque  fights

now the child tries to die again

he is 12, and he's tried eight times  now

I comfort his sister, make her tea

 give her my empty words, take hers on

but we're a continent too far away

things are always going--pride and  envy

the burst seeds of temper or love

if the not dead dream of kindness and light 

can we bring it to them right now?

Pic: From the nave of St. Martin in the Fields. Lunchtime concert (Carolyn Taylor and Sebastian Issler).

Jhalak: a glimpse*

Sunny Singh generously spent  the morning with us, taking questions about her work from students who'd  written about her work using superlatives in their reading journals.

And in the evening, we attended the fabulous Jhalak Prize celebration at the London Library as Sunny's guests. This was definitely a highlight of the trip--most of the authors on the shortlists (children's and adult) were on hand to give a short reading and mingle. There is so much great writing in the world... I need to rearrange my life so I can read it all.

Pic: Travis Alamanza, Ann Sei Lin, Danielle Jawando, Christine Pillainayagam, Lucy Farfort, Angela Hui, Anita Pati, and Charles Patterson. Sheena Patel and Ayanna Banwo are up to hijinks with their books in the front row.

* Jhalak translates as "glimpse," so I'm being as tautological as chai tea.

"All the world's a stage"

I'm in bed mode now, so just four more days before I head for home. I can make fake it. (Look at me with all my theater and acting references.)

I've been checking in with students and our chaperone, and basically everyone is simultaneously having a great time and also ready to go home. Good to know I'm not the only one.

Also, the last time I did this, At came along as a student and Nu came along as my companion, and I made breakfast for them in my flat every morning and we weren't apart for Mothers' Day. Guess it makes sense that this time would feel different and difficult.

Pic: A Comedy of Errors at the Globe Theatre. Not my favorite Shakespearean play, but I did enjoy it more than I thought I would because it was a different version from the one I saw in May 2019.
 

reset

I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed with duty and being in work mode 24-hours a day. + A gnawing low-key headache all the time.

Texts from home urging me to "tum home soon" (we don't have a toddler, but everyone still uses long-ago toddlerese) weren't helping. And grief for Scout is constant and the risk of it erupting feels high.

I needed some time to myself, so after I delivered everyone to the V&A after class this afternoon, I took off for some solo adventures and shopped for gifts and splurged two pounds on a bottle of conditioner (the bar conditioner DID NOT WORK). Back at the flat, I made myself a veggie-rich meal and am beginning to feel a bit more like myself.

When I shared some pictures from last week on FB, a childhood friend remarked that I was "living the dream." Indeed, I am--time to start acting like it.

Hyde Park Time

In honor of being at Speakers' Corner, everyone recited a small piece from a famous Hyde Park speaker. It's always interesting what people choose--we heard a variety from Pankhurst to Orwell.

I remember specifically asking people to memorize their bit, and... some didn't. I need to sit with why I feel so irritated by this.

I don't feel well today. + I'm at that point in the trip where I'm seriously counting down how long before I get to go home. A week is the upper limit of time I can spend away before the experience begins to pall. 

Pic: Our picnic at Hyde Park. 

Kensington Pavilion: A toast to tea

In preparation for reading the Edwardians, we sat down to a proper afternoon tea party in the Kensington Palace pavilion today. And like proper people of leisure we lingered there for nearly two hours.

It's Mothers' Day in the U.S., so lots of sweet pictures of friends with kids and moms on my feed. It made me miss At, Nu, and Huck pretty fierce. 

No reading today as it's a Sunday, but I did share this article that blows my mind every time: “Tea if by Sea; Chai if by Land.”

Pic: All dressed up with pinkies out, cos we're fancy like that.

Oxford: building a longer table

I absolutely love when I can bring my old life and my current life together. 

Today we went to Oxford and my students got to meet my old profs. Lectures, Q&A, a long pub lunch at a suitably long table... my heart is full. 

A couple of students said they'd like to do graduate school at Oxford/in the U.K. I love being able to help--even a little bit--to nudge open the door from our small bubbles into the world.

What we read: papers by Robert and Will because we were meeting them. And also--thanks NGS--extracts from R.F. Kuang's Babel because it's set in Oxford and is about translation and colonialism.

Pic: Profs and students at The Royal Oak. A colleague brought their adorable 13-year-old doggie to lunch... and I had to quickly blink away tears because I started imagining Scout making it to 13.  I miss everyone at home right now, and I think some part of me thinks he'll be there when I reunite with the rest of the family in ten days.

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.