Day Before Deadline

Greyyyyyyy day, and I'm still on the laptop finishing up a couple of things... 

But the memory of a snuggle with this scaly giant yesterday, the card and chocolate-chip cookies BS dropped off, and the proliferating heart emojis via text will keep me going... 

Not There Yet

And I won't finish to the standard I want to today. 

But look at this beauty, LB and TB in the distance, and Nu and Big A further down the street fast asleep in their beds... (not pictured!!)

Time to go back and give it another go!

A breath from the past

Eyde Woods, Red Cedar River, Wednesday's hike with L.

(Have been in class/in meetings/on calls/on the couch all day today.)

These shoes weren't meant for walking

But as I put my lunchbox, and my briefcase, and my purse into the passenger side of the car and as I was beginning to take off my jacket before walking around to the driver's side to get in and finally get home, the car door shut on me and beeped like Knight Rider. My purse with the key was right there on the passenger seat, so I didn't think I could be locked out. But... Oh, I was. I tried the trunk, thinking I could crawl in, but it wouldn't open either. I couldn't go back to my office (my keys were in the car); I couldn't call AAA or Big A (my phone was in the car); It was nearly 8 and I was hungry and tired and couldn't get a snack (my wallet was in the car). 

So I walked over to At's (I'd just been thinking I hadn't seen him since Nu's birthday... and writing that I realize it's been less than a week, but it has been a long week!). He tried the door too, but nothing. So we made the call, and Big A got on the road to bring me the spare key, Nu in tow since it was dark and I didn't want Nu to be home by themselves. (Big A initially demurred about having to drive all the way, and I was instantly mad thinking about all the times I drove into NYC with little At and Baby Nu to get him after a late shift at Bellevue. But he quickly did the right thing, and no one got yelled at. Ha.)

So an hour till reinforcements arrived, and my sweet At offered to feed and water me and sit with me on the MUN House porch (outsiders aren't allowed into student housing to minimize Covid exposure) to keep me company. But I was too keyed up, so I asked if we could walk around, and borrowed some socks from At, and we did. I kept telling him he should go back to work on the delayed deadlines and midterm extensions, but we kept walking and talking, and then Nu and Big A were there, and there was a teensy family reunion in the Heritage Parking Lot. 

Monkey Mind

I've been lighting a candle for morning meditation lately. It helps, but of course my "monkey mind" still has random thoughts jumping in and out. 
 

Today these two things kept popping up: 

1) bits of a student essay in which they despaired of the election and worried that they may be stripped of the right to marry.

 

2) the look in an advisee's eyes when I ran into them in the hallway. Their eyes were crinkly from smiling (behind their mask) but the eyes were tired, sad, and trying hard to be brave. 

Clearly, work/home separation doesn't work very well with teaching.

Fall All Over

It's fall all over the place.

I'm all over Fall (yay!)

I'm all over Fall (blah)

Fall is all (almost) over

It's Fall everywhere.

I fall everywhere.

(I cycle through all this; yesterday's picture from Baker Woods.)

Return (For my Chelli)

From any direction 
I try to meet you,
you greet me.
We hold hands,
"la biss" kiss-
kiss, kiss-kiss.

There was a time when all
I had to do was simply turn
if I wanted to see you or play. 
Do you ever yearn for when 
we were fed from just one 
plate--no yours, no mine?

To sleep together, curling like
vines? Discuss how parting 
our twin beds, sending them 
to opposite walls was painful
(almost as if conjoined twins 
beginning surgery, separation).

My room now--though bright
feels dim and scribbled over,
continents and years crawl
over--what I fear--were last 
visits. Lost keys, lost locks, 
oh--the stitches come loose.

If I am not an island,
how can I swim to you?
I am now just a body
of water surging,
my eyes growing 
round as our earth.

I am come to an age with
endings coiled inside me.
The pandemic's parting gift,
a gift of parting, is the empty
vision unfolding, trying to return
to decisions I made decades ago.

I want to walk up to you

talk about what I have/have

carried. I bring you all this... 

sadness because you'll say you 

see it, know just how to see it,

and be the first to throw it away.

From any direction 

I try to meet you,

you greet me.

We hold hands,

"la biss" kiss-

kiss, kiss-kiss.