Feeling 21

At's bright smile, 21 birthday candles collapsing into the Bananas Foster, and my hurried, clumsy picture... but At's bright smile!

Big A, Nu, and I (and Scout and Huck) had fun decorating the table and making a "boozy" dinner (ravioli in vodka marinara, bourbon-blackened salmon and veggies, Bananas Foster), looking at old At baby pictures, and celebrating the fiercely compassionate, delightfully mellow, and cheekily erudite firstborn. He loved all his presents--the party planning essentials, the new Michael Yates book, cheese aficionado tools, and our big spend--the Dyson hot/cold fan/air purifier thing he can take to his bedroom now and dorm/first apartment etc. later.

At had originally (months ago) wanted to have a family dinner and go out to a bar with friends, but modified his plans to a Zoom "Conspiracy Theory Party" because of the lockdown. I heard him kind of cackling long after midnight, so I think that part went well too.

😍🥰😍😘🥰😍 

Once upon a time

I'm not great with numbers, but every calendar I consult infers that this baby was born 21 years ago (tomorrow).  It sounds like a long, long time ago, and yet feels like it all happened in the spaces between one hug and the next.

And with At, there're always LOTS of hugs. 

This is Us

Sparty wears a mask; be like Sparty!
(MSU Stadium on Monday 4/27)

While Lansing didn't get the volume of Covid cases predicted, Big A has been seeing patients in the E.D. and has been self-isolating. This article--"What the Pandemic is doing to the Children of Doctors and Nurses" (and children of other frontline workers: grocery, mail, sanitation, transport, etc. too, I daresay!) posted by ND, Big A's NYU batch-mate, really struck a nerve. 

I mean this... is literally us:
"Some health-care workers have moved away from their families, and many others have isolated in spare bedrooms or basements, trying to explain to their kids that they can no longer hug them because the consequences of even a single touch could be dire."

Pre-dinner Deliciousness

I think so, anyway...





and Scoutie seems to agree.

Looking Back, Looking Out

Owl totem @MSU Gardens this morning

In retrospect, it was surprising how suddenly things changed. One Saturday I'm celebrating my 1920s-themed birthday extravaganza and by Friday of the very next week, classes had been moved online and At was home from college for the rest of the year.

We finally unpacked At's college stuff from his car (it's only been over 40 days, no biggie 😛) and I took all his boxes down to the basement, because Big A uses it for an office space and hence it's now a no-go zone for the kids. (Incidentally, after years, I'm also doing the kids' laundry for that same reason.) 

Anyway, At wanted me to get the box with his PS4 games--but I couldn't remember it. Then At got serious and asked me if I'd seen a box with books. And yes, indeed I had, and had even read the titles on the spines with approval. 

Problem solved--it was in that box. As he put it: "Classic Mama! I knew you'd remember books." 

Family Pic (J/K)

I mean--family pic for sure, just not my own 😊.

We found this large family on an early morning hike. It was just me and L going quite fast--so for an hour at least, it felt like pre-Covid days...

Still a few letters to write for students headed to grad school and some guest lectures and appearances for colleagues teaching Spring Term. But otherwise just an ordinary day, stuck at home with family. And I enjoy both home and family and am so so so grateful for both, but the boredom is nevertheless real.

Sunday, Fuzzy Sunday

A quick walk with L and R while we talked about the first section of The Overstory, and this bit of green with the trees and farmhouse in the distance was pure serendipity. Talking about the book with R who's reading it for her bookclub tomorrow,  reminded me so much of feeling the tug of that book pulling me out into the unknown, and the running list of unfamiliar words I started keeping as I waded deeper into it. This would be the perfect time to reread it, actually.

KB, yesterday's birthday girl, and SS, last week's birthday girl, wanted to do a smaller Zoom chat this afternoon, and lots of gaffes and laughs ensued. When K said "quarantine poetry," I thought she'd said "horny poetry" and nodded a bit too enthusiastically. Speaking of... no walk with Big A today, but I pulled together a really nice lemony, chicken-meatball soup using up all the garnish-y stuff from our Indian takeout earlier this week and the eggplant that might have ended up in the compost heap soon. And it went great with the rosemary fougasse we'd baked yesterday. Home Ec success.