Somebody

hide behind a plate of food
Athena, Medea, Cambodia
and spiteful

walk crippled and curved
rainbows, Bowflex, Botox
and spatial

big pans of market moons
orbit unobstructed, doubled
in riddle

About Things

I waited and waited for a CSB caseworker to show up with my CASA child and his mother newly released from prison and currently in a halfway house and working at a Subway franchise and unable to complete court-ordered drug testing or to find a stable house. She plans to fight for custody. Depressing. From any angle. And also, since they never showed (or called): irritating.

I edited the photos on my phone while I waited (no book) and found that apart from pictures of my kids or weird vanity plates (so that's a surprise theme too), there were so many pictures of things that--at some point in time--I had wanted to buy. Apparently, I take pictures of things I want to buy, but never get around to actually going back and buying anything. Win win?

Speaking of things, we had lots on hand to make Baby A's "Red Display" for nursery school. A Sith light saber (from her older sibling), a copy of Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin, a little Red Riding Hood puppet, her hand weights (2 lbs) that she uses in our basement gym when we're down there, a spirit level, a newly bloomed Hibiscus...

In the Second Week of Late Summer

A wonderful evening, a small potluck to welcome new Antioch College faculty, and the zen presence of Bill Felker--whom I've raved about previously--but had never actually met.

I thought I knew all the feministy English profs in this town, but it turns out there are more than I dreamed of. What if we're the single most popular profession in this town of 3500? Awesome.

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The Little College that Could

Meanwhile--two hundred yards down the street from us--great events are afoot.

Reading about the resurrection of Antioch College in The New York Times, makes me realize all over again how much there is to love about this little village, how large and generous its soul is. (Looks like the reporter from The Times liked all my favorite village haunts too.)

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Kathadi: Up in the Air

Pulling at the seams of words
one stitch at a time. Worrying
at gasp of steam of fog of cloud
of a sky made from all shadows

Soft as floating belly of mango
memory unravelling in the heat
stitch and mimic scent of night;
tug at flood of string, cut. Kite.

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New Habit

New. Or "new to me" as Baby A says of the froggie gumboots handed down from the sibling eight years older than her.

Habit Blog: simple pictures; evocative words; no verbosity. And done.

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Baby A's nanny from two years ago came by for a playdate this morning (she comes by regularly because she has two boys in college and sometimes she just needs to squeeze a toddler).

But really, nostalgia appears to have no age bar. Although merely three years old, even Baby A apparently has tons of things she looks back on with affection: "That's what I used to do, back when I was a baby. Do you remember that?"

Yes. Yes. we do.

In the arms of an old favorite wearing something else that's "new to her."
The Wild Thing Tee that was the first present Big A got Li'l A all those many years ago. 

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TG(anesha)IF

Looks like my baby, the Mini, may need had to be towed to the dealership (leaking oil, engine light on, setting up the most terrific flapping-clattering sound under the hood). There's no way we're going to be able to drive the one hour to Columbus without hurting the baby.

Come back soon, little one!

But I ended the day at N&J's eating stuffed shells and cookie pizza and drinking big balloons of red wine while the kids played Minecraft ("not MinDcraft, Maya! MinEcraft"--Nine-year-old Pete corrects me, his voice dripping amused horror). And there--dare I say--I'm happy (even with Big A gone away at work).

To have friends with whom you can discuss whether women are always obligated to side with the only other woman in the room while being filled in on Game of Thrones is no mean blessing.

It's the stuff that keeps me warm as the year tiptoes away from summer.

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