small talk

the hours whisper: hurry, hurry 

deep in the day, as we wade in 

the news rippling like a rumor

in the safe normal of the world

what songs can we follow now

across borders certain to harm 

their traceless calm an unreality

their scenery silent... and empty

the willful trails worn into time 

still show in between... the wars

everyone wants the good stories 

of better worlds no one has seen

____________________________

Scott Long, a fellow at the Human Rights Program at Harvard, has uploaded his entire (1700+ volume) library on Israel-Palestine to the cloud. The link is here.  I was horrified midday that many of the Gazan accounts I had been following were now silent; no internet, no landlines, a complete communications blackout. 

Pic: Still at the conference; here's a little station that says "Give Solace Take Solace" and a ton of PostIts with messages on them. Mine is the blue note that says "Be Curious, Be Furious."

a new edition

We got Nu on the school bus at the crack of dawn and then Big A took me to the Detroit airport, which is an hour and a half away.

Another hour and half later, and I'm in Baltimore for the NWSA conference. I'm not co-organizing this year (although I did work on the review panel), and I'm looking forward to just having a great conference experience without the stress. So far I've attended five panels and had my mind blown by their creativity, language, and courage. Also: spotting or being spotted by people I know and lots of squealing and hugging.

On the shuttle to dinner, the guy who asked if it was ok to sit by us and was very interested in our work ("Women's Studies? I've been studying women a long time") and told us he was in town for an R&B show on Saturday turned out to be... Ronnie Devoe (of New Edition, Bell Biv Devoe). My dinner companions took a picture with him later.

I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings.

Pic: A snip of sky just as we got to the airport. I love sunbeams.

forever takes forever

This is the place. This is the place.

the leaves are turning
yet the hinge at my neck refuses
to unhook our gazes
you simply remember rainbows 
echoes edging the rain 

and pause to wonder if this poem 

will be reply or elegy 

_______________________

Pic: An overcast sky, but the fall colors were simply brilliant in Bellaire. (From our weekend trip.) 

a personal pause

In retrospect, I was unraveling a bit last week. I found Chiconky's advice, in particular the bit about how, "You don't have to bear witness to everything to hold sacred what is happening" so incredibly comforting. That coupled with my need to focus on making sure Big A had the best 50th celebration I could give him really helped me pause the spiral.

So a personal pause. In the lead up to Big A's birthday, I also bypassed the whole navaratri business/busy-ness, and instead of a multi-day celebration where I dressed everyone in saris, we did nothing... and I missed all the visits to other people's golus because we were away this weekend. There's always next year!

And we usually decorate for Halloween in the week after Big A's birthday, but I think I might just skip it this year because I'm off to a conference in a couple of days (and I don't like looking at scary things anyway!).

Pic: Big A and I walked over to the Wharton for a David Sedaris reading and it was delightful. (The weather was such a balmy 72 degrees.)  It was a full house. I kept thinking how much Nicole enjoys Sedaris and wished she could have been there too! Sedaris is a terrific reader and my favorite bit was a new piece where Sedaris reworked a banal Chat GPT essay written in "his" style, amping up the banality and incongruity.

the big day

Big A slept a lot and I had meetings all day, but we regrouped in the evening to sift through messages from family and go out to dinner. 

There was a lot of merriment. 

When I mentioned at the end of dinner how much I'd enjoyed all the jokes and giggling, At said "when are we NOT joking and giggling when we're together?" That is true and it was gratifying to hear the grown up kid validate that.

And perhaps this can be a "take-home gift" to anyone who sees this post--here's Talia Lakshmi Kolluri's amazing short story "The Good Donkey" from her collection What We Fed to the Manticore. I posted a link to this story on family chat, but no one has read it yet.

Pic: Big A with Birthday "bling," birthday cake, and a birthday smile. I know he said no party, but that didn't mean I couldn't go to the party store to buy knick knacks and tiaras that say "golden age" for all of us.

bye-bye, weekend

The weekend was lovely... the weekend is over... 

The stars were just so countlessly brilliant last night as Big A and I walked Huck and Max, I just wanted to stay up all night. After we got back, I grabbed At, who was still up, and we sat out on the porch marveling for another hour. I fell into a bit of a trance from the lapping of the waves and light-show in the sky.

Now it's back to reality. 

I love when we're all together, so I felt really sad when we dropped At off at his place. And I feel guilty because Max drooled and barfed through the three-hour road trip despite the meds the vet prescribed. He loves new places, but has such a tough time in the car! We're thinking no road trips with Max for a while...

Pic: Goodbye to Torch Lake. Huck, me, At, Nu, Big A, and Max (a bit obscured as he's taking another look at the water). The Fall colors on the opposite shore are sublime.

Golden

Big A turns 50 on Monday... it seems like a very BFD. It has been wild to reflect on the changes over the decades.

After I made everyone some (frozen) pizza for brunch, we commemorated this BFD by playing several rounds of how-well-do-you-know-the-birthday-baby.

Big A kept looking to me and asking if I had the key to questions like favorite book and favorite song--haha. I guess it is difficult to isolate things like that. But better than the right answers were the discussions the questions provoked. I think we did great job of figuring out his favorite author (Kurt Vonnegut), his favorite genre (hip-hop, which also turns 50 this year), and everyone was 100% certain that he'd never been on a blind date (he hadn't).

Pic: Nu, At, Big A, Max, and Huck. I imagine I can see the lake through the windows...  We got in around 2 am last night. KB had said the front door would be unlocked and we should just let ourselves into her parents' summer place. The door was unlocked and I did let myself in, but I was a bit worried that we may have let ourselves into the wrong house... I relaxed only after I saw a family picture with KB on the wall.