Some things didn't happen--Pride got rained out on Saturday, grocery shopping didn't happen today... we did get Insomnia Cookies delivered both days though 🙃.
My sense of content is overlaid by the knowledge that there's a train ticket back to Milwaukee on Big A's phone for tomorrow.
And that Nu and I start school next week. I should remember to do weekends like this when we're back.
Pic: (secular) stained glass at UU Lansing.
At came over and the four of us headed to the movies (for the first time since the pandemic?). We saw Nope (I'm still processing).
Back home, we had a nice puja for Rakhi. Traditionally, sisters tie rakhis on their brothers' wrists, but we've been bypassing gender and species rules for years now, so At, Nu, Scout, and Huck all promise to love and protect each other. I wish my sister and I had done this for each other instead of bemoaning the fact that we didn't have brothers all those years ago. We always did the love and protection--we should have gotten the bracelets too.
Pic: Nu's bracelets at breakfast this morning (I forgot to take photos yesterday).
Really unsettled today by the stabbing suffered by Salman Rushdie, whose brilliant and provocative work is the basis for whole disciplines. I and hosts of others made academic articles/positions/reputations based on his work. And he was always so amiable and cordial every time I met him.
I'm not a fan of his later work, recent politics, or aspects of his personal life (I stopped buying his books when he supported Roman Polanski), but I cannot forget how breathtaking and eye-opening Midnight's Children was when I first read it or how poignant Haroun and the Sea of Stories was when it came out ... I remember thinking I didn't know you're allowed to do this with language... I didn't know you were allowed to write about this...
I hope he makes a full recovery.
Back in 2006, I copied this extract from an article in The Telegraph:
It has not escaped his attention that living under a fundamentalist threat was once a solo occupation for him. Now we all are.
"That's true," he says cheerfully. "And I think we all are in the end making the same choice that I made all those years ago which was, you just have to get on with your life. You know, in the end, that is all you can do."
Wordle scores are really worth nothing, but somehow they turned out to be super important to me this summer.
This summer has been a time of disruption: Big A's new job in a different state (WI since June-July); Nu's health (ER in May and June, outpatient all July); stalled house and roof repairs (since May and ongoing). I want to acknowledge how these big things led to lots of secondary issues: I got no significant writing done, my garden and garden plans were obliterated, bills are mounting, ditto anxiety, and on and on.
It kind of a looks like they're in a garden to me. I guess that's my super power? Haha.
And I guess the important thing is that we found time to make this happen despite everyone's crazy end-of summer and vacation schedules.
Parenthood's most persistent fear has been about losing my kids (to disaster/ill health). So it was horrifying to read about another take on this loss in the pull quote on this article about parent-child estrangement in The Atlantic: "you can be a conscientious parent and your kid may still want nothing to do with you when they’re older."
The article then goes on to say that there are usually reasons for parent-child estrangement even if it has to do with how the parent and the child see the past differently.
Very yikes. A cautionary tale, I guess, but what can anyone do about the past anyway?
Pic: Eyde Woods; The Red Cedar River muddy post rain.
(here) is the door I promised, my darling the moon growing full with welcome late in the evening as our day turns it is holy to need someone...
