Sunday is

 

the kind and simple joy

of parenting these four

shit shit shit

The first signal is my head turned 

sideways, listening for him

my dad too, listens to me,

he warns me of shit.

This was literal: he identified each 

congealed hazard on the trail.

"Look out for the dog shit,"

he said. "OK--horse shit."

Or sometimes even: "I don't know, 

kanna--some kind of shit here."

Huge oceans connect us now;

my finger tenses on redial.

------------

Red Cedar River, this morning with L.

plot twist

The day started beautifully with a tour of the MSU Horticultural Gardens (whence these decadent peonies) with L. 

It got better when Nu got their first shot of the Pfizer vaccine at a drive-through clinic excellently organized by MI state and operated by some lovely people from the National Guard. 

It got even better when the U of M adolescent gender services clinic called to set up an appointment for us next Friday.

And then like an absolute champion, I got all the student letters of recommendation I was working on--off to students/universities/programs.

It was when I was sending out those letters that I realized I had somehow missed the faculty meeting that was noted in my calendar and my online scheduler.

Whoops. 

dissonance

On the one hand: Getting to hang out with dear (vaccinated) friends at a brewpub (first time in 14 months); planning to get Nu to a walk-in vaccination clinic this weekend now that vaccinations have been approved for the 12 and above set.

On the other hand: Whatsapp messages on cousins' chat sharing fundraisers for treatment for people they personally know; Facebook posts about relatives in India sick and dying.

long day's journey...

L and I were absolutely transfixed by how different Baker Woods looks in just a week. The last time we were there, we saw a mess of ramps and lots of wildflowers, but the trees hadn't greened yet. I was excited for L to see it because I'd hiked at Baker with BS this weekend and was storing this up as a surprise to savor all over again with L. 

Headed up to Alma afterwards for meetings and things with At. He DJ-ed a podcast he wanted me to listen to about the Cuban revolution and and hearing about Meyer Lansky aligned nicely with segments of The Godfather Part II, which I'm watching bit by bit with Big A. 

Back home, we made dinner (last week's leftover rice, +beans, +a bag of 'power blend' veggies in a stirfry, a big green salad, and a mango-blueberry-orange fruit salad), set the table, ate, talked over music, and cleared up in just under 90 minutes--At called it "efficient." Nu headed to bed early after a few rounds of cards and the puppies and I napped together for a bit until it was time to send Big A off to work.

lift your lantern up

Vacuuming in At's room, I chuckled because he'd helpfully put his bungee-chairs and side-tables on top of his bed so I could clean easily without having to move stuff around. As I told him, my mom used to do the same with her cleaners so they'd clean more thoroughly. 

Anyway--his camping lantern had fallen to the floor, so I asked if he could "lift your [his] lantern up" and a look of total befuddlement came over his face. Turns out, he thought it was an axiom he hadn't heard before in the vein of that hymn "This Little Light of Mine"--I'm going to let it shine, etc. 😂😂

And then this little love of mine took care of some yard work unprompted. 🥰🥰

mmmmm morels

Big A mowed too aggressively by the morel patch last year so I was worried they wouldn't come back, but here are a few morels I found (in a spot he'd missed blitzing behind the elm). 

At and I ate a couple, and the rest have gone to good homes, where the whole family appreciates morels (Nu and Big A won't eat 'em over here). 

Nothing quite like the first year we were here, or even the rainy spring of 2019... Still so much better than last year's poor showing, when I appear to have found just two. 

Everything was worse last year.