Monday, July 10, 2023

summer sanctuary

I met just one writing deadline (of three) on Sunday and I have a CASA report due tomorrow. Like Lawrence Kasdan says, "being a writer is like having homework for the rest of your life." I have to keep reminding myself that I'm doing the best I can. 

In the meantime, Big A keeps reminding me that it's summer. 

And Nu sweetly offered to go on a walk with me so I could talk through the knot in a writing project. We haven't gone yet... But I was so touched by their offer, which is exactly what I myself might have offered up to Nu or a student in a similar predicament.

Pic: Max insisting we take a break outside. I'm just so grateful for my patch of green, blue skies, a silly puppy, and time and health to enjoy them all.

Sunday, July 09, 2023

diaspora

Had the afternoon not been a remedy
I would not have known to cross 
the hour with conversation 

to wash ashore with no introduction
getting there just in time 
to miss the show

the cast of my life files into the room
discussing the best moments
as if at an after party

speak welcome in hugs, hands, eyes 
I can understand in languages
I couldn't even name

Pic: The pond at MSU Beal Gardens. It was such a brilliant day today. I walked three hours: half by myself; half with Big A.

Saturday, July 08, 2023

some summer enchantment

All my deadlines are tomorrow... But today, I got to celebrate BOL's name change with a wonderful party. We had it indoors since it threatened rain, but we went outside for the cake.

Oh, that cake! When Nu and I were brainstorming the party with BOL, they said they wanted the unicorn themed party they didn't have when they were five. With that mission statement, it was so easy to make a celebration that evoked the sense of possibility and magic that comes with BOL.

Pic: BOL with their unicorn cake; not pictured the guests who were my "bubble factory" adding an extra bit of magic to this picture.

Friday, July 07, 2023

crossing

a cargo of summer haze
where there were rocks
there's uncovered  sand 
                                      where there was sand
                                      is the tide  coming in 
                                      and   then it goes out  
I can barely remember
what we  left  behind
or  if  we  had  cried
                                      I just know that you 
                                      couldn't save us all
                                      you didn't even try
first you caught my eye
but then  looked  away
I  see  through  you 
                                     someday this crossing 
                                     may  be   different or 
                                      it could stay the same 
I  see  through   you
know whom to blame
I  see  through   you

Pic: Ducks on the Red Cedar.  Big A and I were supposed to go on a run in the morning, but it was 3:45 by the time we left and so hot I could barely run a mile. So we walked along the river instead.

Note: I can't stop thinking about the refugee boat off the Greek coast. 

Thursday, July 06, 2023

going back

I have secretly sewn smiles 
into  the  hems  of clothes
that get wet wading nearer 
to you... so they will float
on down these hallways 
... of dreams, of memory 
rippling and in stillness,  
their history of undoing 
the heaviness of things
of even--yes--sweetness
its stickiness... catching
at skin and hair... circling
and scabbing selfishly, carrying
cells...  cities... of light into me
my face resting in your palms--
cupped like a nest...  like home

------------------------------
Pic: I have a vision in my head for this little patch of garden--I love working in it, and I love spending time in it--especially reading on the bench under the (volunteer, sapling) tree. But it looks simultaneously scanty and overgrown. I should probably consult a proper landscaper. 

Wednesday, July 05, 2023

Wild: fires, fireflies, and fireworks

We started the day with an air quality advisory about smoky air from the wildfires. But... it seemed (by smell and sight) like any other summer day to me. 

Nu and I picked At up from work and went to FedEx to get pics for their Indian visas. I was so happy to have them both with me, I was being silly behind the photographer--making funny faces and tap dancing. At promptly got a fit of the giggles, but Nu who had to take their glasses off for the picture, couldn't see me at all, and managed to keep a straight face in the picture. 

When At, Nu, and I took Max and Huck for a walk around the back... fireflies! Their appearance is so magical every year. And this year, because I've been taking baby pee-pee pants Max out so much, I haven't missed a single day of their joy-inducing luminosity.

When I dropped At off around eleven, there were fireworks in the sky as we drove through old town in Lansing--I'm glad I got to see them even if a day late--I guess I had missed their fiery simulation of all my favorite things (like flowers, like stars) yesterday after all.

Pic: A fuzzy picture of the surprise fireworks through the windshield.

Tuesday, July 04, 2023

quiet and close

Oh, such a quiet 4th around here. Just Nu, Huck, Max, and me. I don't think I've said yet that Big A's prescription-related accreditations didn't come through in time, so he's working in Milwaukee for another month. Boo. He's back tomorrow for a long stretch though. YAY!

But it was such a lovely, bright sunshiny day and Huck sunned herself outside--something she hasn't done since Scout, so I was so happy to see her get some of her old pastimes back. 

Nu was too peopled out from yesterday to go out, so we stayed home. We had plenty of leftovers from yesterday too and that worked out perfectly as it meant I didn't have to cook on my Boss Day. We played with the pups and watched shows and I got really close to finishing up The Whispers--a book I picked up from Sarah's June reading list--it's practically unputdownable. I'm saving the last handful of chapters for the tub tomorrow.

Ten years ago, I think such a quiet holiday would have given me anxiety about not doing the right thing or FOMO or something--but I do what I want these days. (Also feeling way less celebratory with stupid/corrupt SCOTUS decisions in the last week.)

Pic: Huck sunning herself; Max a little further away wondering if he should pounce on her.

the last supper

There are thirteen of us at the table. But just our awesome, regular selves. (No Jesuses or Judases.) Headed for home come morning! At least...