Budgets

Came back after a mere three hours at work to write checks to S for the weekly deep house cleaning that keeps me sane (four hours @ $20 per hour) and emergency baby sitter L (three hours @ $15 per hour--Baby A is home sick again today; Big A had to go to work).

I literally did not make enough at work today (three hours at something like $30 per hour) to warrant the expense of hiring people.

Weird.

Still: keeping our environment clean, paying an ok wage, protecting the small and vulnerable (the toddler), minding public-health via not spreading viruses at preschool, providing jobs, saving lives via sending Big A to work ;), providing higher education for the next generation via me--the dollar standoff isn't ideal, but I think it's a good use of money.

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Back

We're back.

Earlier today at 2 a.m. and still in the environs of L.A., came the realization that I had to fly three hours back to Columbus, OH, in our super cramped coach seats, retrieve the car from long-term parking, drive an hour back to Yellow Springs, pick up kids from grandparents, prep them for school, drop them off, and then go teach two classes. This doesn't even include attending to backlogged e-mail, project completion, vacation laundry, rescuing needy dying plants, catching up with school news and notices, or planning dinner. Blah, blah, blah. Gulp.

I passed out after that, getting all the sleep I could; my head resting on folded arms on the tray table like I was praying really hard in a pew.

And then the soft pressure of Big A's head resting on my back. His HEAD not his hand. 

He's totally using me for my body.

Or totally has my back?

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Lost

Colleagues from two listservs that constantly continue to educate have passed away.

Jessica Nathanson from the women's studies list WMST-L and Sue Darlow from the South Asian literature list (SASIALIT).

They fought the good fight with grace and intelligence.

_

Wilde Žižek

Oh, Oh, Oh.

Žižek on charitable consumerism/Cultural Capitalism now with groovy visual notetaking.

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True

Big A and I have just dropped off the kids for an extended weekend at their grandparents. I know they’ll have fun and be looked after, and I know that we’ll have fun. Neither generational set—neither parents nor kids... nor grandparents—will miss each other too, too much in the space of three days.

My only fear is that Big A and I’ll die together and leave the kids orphans. And I’m willing to write out something that makes me sound fantastically stupid is because I’m superstitious enough to believe in the fetishistic value of speaking my fears out loud in the hope that those destinies will be foiled.

As we pull away from the driveway, I’m gazing at the window, waiting for the kids to wave goodbye one more time, but they’re already mesmerized by the glow of the television i.e. already having a great time. 

I keep looking back over my shoulder…

Big A : “Those little bastards are going to have a fantastic time, Puppy.

[Pause]

Plus, they don’t care.”

_ 

Morning Recipe

Downstairs, last night's dinner
ghosts in a sea of cinnamon tea

Quiet. Light bubbles, fills up,
curls in my cup--misty as milk

Stir in two children
(I take it sweet.)


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Tuesday's Change

Sun is ancient
very, very brilliant
and just beginning
like crystal on a string.

Grateful is all destiny 

to be met breathlessly

sweet certitude of soul,
sweeter certitude of y'all.

I can see more now

than I ever did before.

I may be listening now--

have always known how.

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