you have no idea

I search soft darknesses 

at  the  edges of the day

after the concrete crackle 

of some  things I've said

words are also adventures

evasive... and anonymous

sticking inside  my throat

like an offering in an epic  

I said I couldn't remember

although I  do know  how

I watched television instead 

of praying--still, they visited 

those archangels and aliens

always animal... melancholy 

my body is still not immortal

but somehow... is finally free

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

Pic: Black-eyed Susans on the MSU campus. I went walking by myself for once, and realized as I turned this corner that I was probably going to bail on the birthday party in the park (fun! already RSVP-ed!) I was supposed to go to.  

chances are

the tide seeks

greedily by the river 

it could leave us hanging

or help us lose--

then we're all swimmers

reaching away, trying to speak 

until we choose 

the suck-slide of undertow 

waves keep a beat--like trauma

go ahead, tell me

how many people we are

allowed to be before any ending

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Didn't go to book club today--just didn't feel it was ok to be indoors with other people. The book was Bonnie Garmus's Lessons in Chemistry--I found it both alarming and twee and can't tell yet if I liked it. 

Also in OMG: L and T stocked us up on food--soup, pierogies, grape leaves, chicken salad... I'll not need to cook for days.

Pic: A very swollen Red Cedar with Big A. 

un-doing

Baby steps today: Just one meeting, a tiny handful of emails, a short walk, an easy meal. I keep reminding myself of my spectacular relapse after I overdid things earlier this week. 

Easy does it. 

Unrelated: I can't stop thinking about the food situation with my parents, sis, and BIL. I knew they had let some household help, including their cook, go during the early stages of the pandemic. What I didn't realize is that now everyone just orders food online and then they eat separately and at different times. So all they're eating--sometimes even at breakfast, and almost always at lunch and dinner--is restaurant food. Each one according to their own schedule and by themselves. 

The worst part is that the food is frequently limp, unappetizing, and unsatisfying by the time it arrives, so it seems people eat more than they would otherwise. My BIL won't even enter the kitchen, my sis is too busy with her job, and my parents are too old, so this isn't a problem with an obvious solution. I made soups and stir-frys while there (for the kids mainly, but there was enough for everyone) and everyone acted like it was the most amazing food in the world (although it really wasn't!). My sister takes such good care of my parents and I didn't want to be a dick; so I didn't say anything. But mealtimes were such a time of togetherness growing up and I feel so, so sad that it's not the case anymore over there. 

Pic: Look! A medieval-looking turret on our way to get Big A some coffee at Biggby! 

a day to rest and recover

I thought I was going to have to 'force' myself to take the day off to rest and recover properly. But as it turns out, I was so feverish, all I could do was lie on the couch and have my family take care of me. They're so good at that. I got soup and toast and tea and blankets... and entertainment as pictured. I think I'm getting better.

Pic: Huck, Max, and Big A rumpus-ing in the rumpus room.

so it's like that

India's Independence Day! 

This afternoon, after working diligently on syllabuses and stuff, I took a second SUV-load of stuff to the donation center--all the stuff from Big A's Milwaukee apartment. I hope someone else enjoys the nice toaster and placemats and towels and sheets and Apple TV stuff. Big A started his Michigan job while we were in India, and I'm so glad for us to be under the same roof now. And to be able to give away this stuff that was sitting in the garage.

I made a big pot of soup with turmeric, ginger, garlic, and tons of veggies because I wasn't feeling so good. In fact, I felt like I had when I was sick last week. Big A who had been incredulous that no one had given us a Covid test, gave me one... and... that MF-er lit right up. 

So we had Covid and gave it to other people. I feel so gross about that. We've been masking everywhere, since we got sick, so hopefully we've been able to limit the spread. I don't feel too sick, but I've been too upset about my public health fail to work. Have been watching Made in Heaven, my mom recommended it after we saw an ad for it on a billboard on our way to the airport.

And the Crumbl cookies I picked up because I was on that side of town gave Nu an allergic reaction. Whomp, whomp. Not a complete winner of a day, for sure. 

the gloaming

I always think of the gloaming as a place (like a glen, a clearing in the glen, as in "they went into the gloaming and were lost") until I remember it's a time--it's just twilight, that strange gloomy time. 

Here's Max, my big goofball, my KoolAid guy, hanging out with me at the end of a long day when I went in to work and took meetings (office plants are watered and doing fine) and also weeded and trimmed in the secret garden. It looks lush now although the only color deer will consistently allow us are spikes, dragon's breath, and geraniums, there are some roses and white phlox in there too. 

I went into the plant section when I stopped for groceries earlier, and the attendant tipped me off to a giant sale coming next week. Will I be brave enough to replace some perennials then? We shall see. Also mums are in the store already and I'm not ready for that.

Pic: Max in the gloaming.

a recording

I can't claim K.L. Saigal as a favorite--in fact I remember laughing about his face on this precise album cover with my sister (rude, I know). He's of my grandparents' generation, but my parents grew up on his music and loved him. This is an LP, they listened to him on old Gramaphone records--one song to a side. He's considered to be a bit of a bridge between hindustani classical and film music.

I don't know why I'm blabbing so much instead of just saying that I played this album and in the cool night air with a cricket chorus, it took me right back to nights in my childhood--being in bed and hearing snatches of my parents post-bedtime life as they played music and chatted in the living room.

I thought I'd just play a few songs, but I'm on the second side now enjoying the absolute romanticism of Urdu lyrics: Jab dil hi toot gaya, hum jeeke kya karenge? (Now that my heart is broken what could I accomplish even if I continued to live?)  

This was such a prized possession for my mom... I'm sad thinking why she's in a season of giving her favorite things away. I'm so unready for anything to happen. I burst into tears last week when my dad tried to have an end-of-life talk with me. And then I kept going back to it my head on the plane yesterday where I unknowingly picked two dad-centered movies (Atrangi Re and Aftersun, both recommended) and cried some more.

Pic: In the solarium at night playing old records.