Christmas #2

Happy for second Christmas. Happy to be back home.

I got some special things and books I hadn't known I should want--can't wait to start reading them. The kantha quilt and ceramic stovetop cookware we took the grandparents were very appreciated. 

Also, we sang so many Christmas carols and songs, it started to snow. 

So the roads were a bit anxiety-provoking on the way back. 

But it gave us lots of time to talk about important stuff like how both books published by my friends this year (Tale of the Dreamer's Son and The Dream Builders) have "dream" in them and what does that mean?!?! In other words, a lot of jabbering away. Or we were listening to the 90s station and trying to remember what we were doing that year. In 4th grade a very young Big A tried to get cute girls to notice him by offering to draw portraits of their Cabbage Patch dolls. Oh. My. Heart.

Pic: Our goth elf delivering presents.

so long, farewell

Yellow Springs goodbyes are always hard, but a forlorn farewell committee baying and glaring morosely when we're just going to fetch takeout is a bit too much.

We're in YS for a long overdue Christmas with Grandma Sue and Grandpa John as they had Covid at regular Christmas time. 

Pic: Scout, Huck, and Izzy wondering if they'll ever see Big A and me again.
 

road trip talk

words walk away; walk me back

tangling and untangling the past

I look to the sky; birds don't care--

they sing wordlessly anyway 

you look for proof, for guarantees

I have only sympathy, agreement--

we're now the rain's own drum beat

a storm announced on this journey 

but we're in charge of where we go,

when we stop--our talk is like a trip--

is that insight? It feels like a lightbulb

in the sudden pop of the sun overhead 

five pups tonight

I spent many hours on the sofa in post-pizza and post-teaching lassitude this evening, accompanied by Scout (at my hip) and Huck (by my feet) and Floof (on the bannister). The fourth pup is me ("Pup," "Puppy," and "Princess Puppy Dog" have been nicknames from different loved ones--one of whom has a birthday today). 

The fifth pup is in this poem by Charles Simic (Simic died recently and I've been thinking of this poem about how we don't deserve dogs--or war--a lot). 

On this Very Street in Belgrade

Your mother carried you

Out of the smoking ruins of a building

And set you down on this sidewalk

Like a doll bundled in burnt rags,

Where you now stood years later

Talking to a homeless dog,

Half-hidden behind a parked car,

His eyes brimming with hope

As he inched forward, ready for the worst.

 

double bubble

The reflection of the graffiti doubled how colorful that patch of the bridge looked as L and I came around the bend, and it reminded me of Laura Gilpin's poem "Two-headed Calf." 

L hadn't heard of this amazing poem, so I found it on my phone and read it to her with my voice breaking at the end.

Then we finished up our walk and I headed into a day of meetings meetings meetings meetings.

And some good news from this week: two poems  accepted to an anthology of pandemic-era writing, and also accepted--an academic book proposal that the editor who wrote back characterized as "gentle and kind."

winter in two places

somewhere not here

someone I love finishes

a shift in the ER: 12 hours

in the dark, desperate hours 

over night... on his way home

dreaming of breakfast then bed

he nevertheless stops on the way

gently checks on someone else

huddled and sleeping in a doorway

way over here, I marvel at geese

standing on a layer of ice so thin 

it's almost barely a breath of frost

I watch as bit-by-bit the ice cracks 

and gives... and the geese settle 

into different spaces and poses

their refusal to panic at anything

to do with winter's fickle apparatus

my hunger, my yearning, are an infinity

Pic: geese (standing/sitting) on a very thin layer of ice. Red Cedar River. From Monday's walk with L.

all about that Huckie

When SD visited last year, one of the many things she did to ease my life was tell me about mobile groomers.  Our vet had stopped offering grooming services, and there are so many sad and scary stories about pet stores and mishaps, I was bit immobilized by choice. Then SD told me that people will come to your home and groom your puppies in their van in your driveway. How did I not know about this?!? 

Anyway, we've used Zoey's a couple of times now, and it's less stressful for both me and the pups. It is a bit of a running joke in the family though that every time Zoey posts a collage of Scout and Huck pics, it's almost always all Huckie because Scout looks so miserable in the most non photogenic way when he's not with family.

Cuddling with extra fluffy and nice smelling babies tonight.