First!

I got to bookclub first, with my signed copy of Rainbow Rowell's sweet debut Eleanor and Park for the book exchange. (Reusing book, bag, and tissue paper here. Hola!)

Half-an hour later, the place was all raucous exuberance, with discussions hilariously veering off course. The book was Tayari Jones's An American Marriage and the loudest, longest discussion SOMEHOW became: which famous prisoner would you write to?

A Slob Story

At took off to protest the President's rally in Battle Creek today, despite my protest that it might get too violent especially since impeachment was expected to drop.

But he went (in his "Abolish I.C.E." tee!) and came back with some great stories--the young man who told MAGAs they were bigots (turned out his dad had been deported two months ago); volunteers from the National Lawyers Guild making sure the police were neutral; that everyone had a fit of the giggles when they started playing the Cats soundtrack.

But before he came back with these stories, I was waiting up for him, monitoring the news and Twitter for signs that things weren't going well... and when I heard that the president had called a protester "a slob" I was sure he was talking about my boy, who'd left in an oversized jacket with pockets full of YDSA buttons.

Adoptions

At LD's office to finish wrapping all the gifts for the family the girlfriends adopted from EVE,  and I discovered a perfect sunset shot as we stacked the presents and cleaned up our mess...

I'm thinking ahead too Thursday's CASA hearing, and how the path to adoption for a six-year-old--whose life has been upended by family opioid addiction since they were two--might finally be in the clear.

I think this may be the year I keep my promise to myself and not go overboard with presents for the family. We adopted a bunch of present requests from the UU last Sunday and there are some requests from United Way at work as well, so I've been able to do all the planning and shopping without overwhelming anyone. (Perhaps! There's another week before Christmas.)

And so we muddle on, grocery carts against the current...

Doodles in the wild

At is back!

As we were folding dinner napkins from the wash, the puppies wanted to wander back into the kitchen, but the glass door was closed, and while Scout glared balefully, Huck decided to claw the door down.

At started narrating as though it was a nature show ("these are golden doodles native to rural Canada, seen here in a tea garden...").

And for some reason, it made me fall about laughing. (It's possible that just having At back has improved my happiness immensely.)

Grateful

Grateful for this thoughtful present from my lovely students, who even accessorized Frida with a "Sisterhood is Powerful" button.

When I brought her home last week, she was sitting next to me on the drive home and when I was stopped at the light, the homeless person I was chatting to asked me if he could have "dolly" for his niece. So not only did I have no money to give him, it must have seemed that I wouldn't give away what must have seemed like a highly age-inappropriate and superfluous knick-knack. He also asked me for pants ("30-inch waist. But not jeans! Dress pants!"), so I'll be trying to get that to him.

(Also, that intersection will always remind me of Adrian--I hope the fact he hasn't been here for months means he got his truck working again and is off on some travels. And also, I still don't have an answer to the question At and Nu have both asked me in toddlerhood--how are people homeless?)

The babies, they are beautiful.