Wednesday, July 08, 2020
Tuesday, July 07, 2020
Mostly here

Eating my second nectarine in the hammock today was blissful, yes--but also, I could hear myself thinking--hey, look! I'm eating nectarines in a hammock! I'm having such a great time! My somewhat desperate enjoyment of summer, the urgency to do all of the summer things is partly Pure Michigan (ha); but surely, me trying to convince myself things are fine is related to our strange, sad, pandemic times?
Monday, July 06, 2020
Food (related) notes

I watched a few eps of the new Masterpiece/PBS orientalist fantasy Beecham House--somehow simultaneously overblown and underdone. William Dalrymple is a historical consultant on the show and it's directed by Gurindher Chadha, but despite those two it's really, really bad. I got so irritated almost immediately that the hindi dialogue gets mentioned but not translated e.g., "X speaks in Hindi"--What did he say?! How could it not matter?! Anyway, it inspired "Anglo-Indian" elements at dinner prep time--the peach chutney, ghee toast, and curry-poached cod came together from whatever we needed to use up before our Imperfect Foods box arrives tomorrow and the steamed veg was tongue-in-cheek homage to stereotypical Brit cuisine/me running out of time and imagination.
At dinner, it got us talking about trips to England (especially last year's "Cosmopolitan England" Spring term trip) and all the good meals we've eaten there (some straight out of Sainsbury's). I miss travel.
Sunday, July 05, 2020
Another Day

I spent most of the day outside and people visited me from time to time as I finished the book I was reading (This Tender Land--I liked the Odyssey framing, but some parts were fairly twee and the ending was overstuffed and hurried).
We got some tiny tomatoes from my veggie plot! And that was all the actual excitement the day held.
Saturday, July 04, 2020
Friday, July 03, 2020
1/2 2020 Sonnet

Fond of sun,
my children and I
our thoughts tail us--
or are afterthoughts--
quiet and still as stones
our bones are sinking, singing
their fantasy of thanks to the earth.
Lulled by sun,
my children and I
are adrift on a river of
unhurried afternoons straining
only with birdsong, brilliance, buzz.
We'd say we are quite, quite ruined for the past
why--even ghosts who call, shine bright with future.
Thursday, July 02, 2020
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