First School Day

I mean to write of pomegranates 

and roses in fairytales, how even

the pierce of your stare is a star.

You my child, have been puppies, tigers,

bees, snakes, and a praying mantis. You

say, today's animal: "sickly Victorian boy."

So pearlescent with scattered energy

stay stationed in understories of care 

and humming to the surface, beyond

yes--the press of your face on my shoulder

but holding fast like the ink-paint-print-stain 

koans growing on your arms for years. 

Today's (s)log

Yesterday's picture, and a tiny today update. 

Met all my classes; my students seem lovely! My international students patched in via video, and that went ok too. I am grieving the loss of classroom intimacy--video, masks, distancing, and having to sit in rows instead of a circle are all messy. But I get it--and I think we'll get through it. 

Got to meet At before afternoon classes to pass on some freezer staples, I and was chuffed to see he had two masks and long sleeves on. Yay! I walked him back to his house and got a "back hug" as he turned to get the stairs. Seeing At made me so happy.

My last class ended late and then I headed to a socially distant picnic at the president's house for our new MFA director. Both of them have worked really hard on the program even through the strangeness of the summer, and I was happy to celebrate with them. But the sun had set by the time I drove home--another reminder this summer is ending. Luckily, I had a long conversation with JG to keep me company in the car. 

Back home, I discovered that L had dropped off some of Nu's favorite brownies and a ton of snacks as a back-to-school treat for Nu (they start tomorrow). My Nu was already in bed, but I was told they lovvvvvvvved me when I snuck in for a goodnight kiss. And then Big A woke up, and we had a teensy dessert-date chit-chat (me with Nu's brownies, Big A with the leftovers of the Culver's from his and Nu's dinner) before he headed off to work. I'll be sleeping with Scout and Huck tonight.

On a day that refuses to end

My evenings are survivors

carrying--valiant as ants--

relics of their fallen friends.

They see me turn muddy, as I 

drink me (60% water, baby)

You'd think I am called grief.

I'm keeping an eye out for you  

yearning for you for when you 

are already inside (my head) 

First Day

Yesterday's Hawk Island hike with SS was magical. I came away with book and movie recommendations and the idea that I'm not the one who gets to decide who reads my stuff. Of course, I tell students this all the time, but I need to hear it too, sometimes.

Today was my first day back in the classroom since March. Yes, it's Sunday, but that's when the first-years start this year. My first-day jitters were keener than usual, but once back in the classroom, things settled into the usual. 

I don't think I have everyone's names yet as I usually do. Masked, even people I already know are hard to recognize; memorizing the names of new students when half their faces are out of view is going to be quite a challenge. Bless everyone who smiles with their eyes and nods in class.

Quieting

This lush, deciduous forest all around me, so vibrant-green and teeming with birdsong in the Baker Woodlot--although I'm never more than a mile from busy roads and traffic. 

My temptation to marvel at the richness of the canopy has to be balanced with the need to pay attention to my path crisscrossed with wayward roots and embedded rock. I look up for beauty, I look down for safety.

What lies ahead is revealed only in small glimpses. But...  my feet are on the path and I remember that the path has worked before. It can lead me from the cool breaths of solitude back into the warmth of messy but eager life. When I am ready.

Senior moment

Every year I keep expecting it to get easier when At heads to college. But it doesn't. It was awful that first year. And the second. And OMG, the third was a real sucker-punch.

The big difference is that At is now so like a grownup (I mean--he IS 21), and our dynamic has shifted enough that I don't have to try to hide my sadness anymore. I just embrace my old, needy mama role. 

He was dawdling over breakfast while I watered plants and I was sharing that I wasn't sad because of him leaving in the pandemic even--just sad about him leaving; how I had expected it to get easier; and who knows what next year might bring--again not because of the pandemic but because of grad school etc. and how far away THAT might be. He was so sweet, listened with empathy, and hugged me so tight--and I had myself a good (great!) cry. 

We packed his car together but then it wouldn't start. If it is possible for a face to both light up and fall at the same time, I think my face may have. But At was able to jump start it and proudly used to it reassure me of how he's a capable champion at life and then he set off for senior year.  💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

Nu and I had a sleepover in the rumpus room with Scout and Huck because, that's how we've been distracting ourselves since year one. 🤗 🤗 🤗 🤗 

Alright; Back to school

Lots of chronologically fixed and geographically immovable chores today--as in I had to show up at precise times to specific places and do stuff (pick up Nu's school supplies, check out my classroom tech, get COVID-tested, and lots of etc.). I felt so much anxiety driving to work (and every Trump sign spiked it/spooked me). 

Anyway, I had lots of new cuttings and plants with me since it had been months since I was last in my office, and I assumed my office plants wouldn't have made it. But they had all taken advantage of my overwatering the last time, and  although they looked so sad, they had survived. Yay! I supplemented some of the emptier looking planters, and then I had plenty left to make a nice welcome gift for a new colleague.

I picked up the college-issued safety kit from my mailbox and it had some very useful supplies (Alma plaid mask, thermometer for our mandatory daily health reporting, etc.) though obviously, the hand sani and anti-bac wipes aren't going to last very long. 

The COVID testing was weird, uncomfortable, overly intimate, and ugh. Earlier today, L had said that if she had to get tested every day as the White House staff supposedly does, she'd turn in her resignation. I chortled at that--"Yeah, L;" I teased: "THAT would be the reason YOU wouldn't work with this administration."