"The Chicken Daddy"

"The Chicken Daddy" is Big A's name for Nu who spends inordinate amounts of time just doting on the six chicks they got with L. I love seeing how proud and patient they are with the cheepers. 

But they don't want to name any chicks yet because they "don't want to get too attached." That's too much reality for me.

The all-day and all-week rain has been unreal and disappointing. I'm nothing if not stubborn, however, so I've been sitting in the swing reading, drinking lemonades, and eating cherries anyway. 

Where's Mama?: A Story in Three Parts

 

if it wasn't already clear...

 

Jackie Sumell's "A Solitary Greenhouse" asks us to imagine a world without prisons. The link has better photos and text.

From a walk through Beal Gardens.

"and it was all yellow"

Nu and L welcomed their chicks who arrived by mail (in a bright yellow shipping box that matched Nu's rainboots perfectly). 

old school laughter

to sit down with strangers talking talking
talking, the sun stunning in its brilliance 

like our laughter, sounding like we never 

heard of hurt, happy as an escaped key

I start, you finish, then we restart again  

the sisters say: "quiet now, settle down"

they turn their backs, snort their grace

and then we're off on one more round... 

odd how though it's made only of sound

laughter never loses its meaning--or place

[Pic: Waterlilies at MSU Radiology Gardens]

Fathers' Day*

The kids and I called my dad last night (already Fathers' Day in India) while my sister was making him a "full English breakfast." Everyone was super excited and happy and talking over each other and couldn't hear very well. My dad legit couldn't hear us, I suspect 😞.

At and Nu took Big A brunch in bed and got him a couple of cans of the beer he likes and a very VSCO beer cozy. They said all they knew walking into the store was that the kind Big A likes had fish on the logo... they nailed it.

Pic: My one fancy nursery planter splurge didn't make it too long before it was colonized by a family of house sparrows in the most beautiful, mossy nest I've ever seen. But now the baby birds have flown and I am going to see if I can rejuvenate the planter.

* I'm going to punctuate it this way and not this.

I said

a letter seems only an island of sound 

till it has found bridges and isthmuses 

of words and meaning

we're at this crossing to talk some more--

soaring through side streets and alleys 

where we are all children

come back, connect, read me generously

correct, on this towpath of peace, release

my complaint--always me

[Pic: cobwebs-bridge-Red Cedar River]