falling back

my mother says the sun 

is always a prized guest

silken beams trailing 

like roots, tickling,

                          lighting up treasures--

                          leaves fallen-golden 

                          who in their turn lay 

                           sunlight in my path 

I can barely believe

how these hinged wings, 

like words, are forgiving- 

fervid, budding in mud 

                          into a fullness of flood

                          this near sunset of leaves

                          blood-red, vital--and yet 

                          leaving--so close to a fall 

________________________

Pic: I got TWO walks in! One up to the Red Cedar by myself. And another with LB and TB to Baker Woods. I'll be stuck at meetings and appointments all day tomorrow, so I'm glad I got an extra one in today.

a pedestrian diagnosis

To keep this simple: Neither of my walking companions have been available recently--L has been away in Oregon all month long and Big A's work schedule is jam-packed. 

I haven't been getting out much without them, and both the lack of walks and companionship are doing a number on my brain.

I'm glad I figured that out... now to make the time to take myself out for regular walks.

Pic: I took a book and hung out on the banks of the Red Cedar today. It was such a mild and lovely day.

messy

Oh, I'm so guilty of this meme. I've been trying to model calm and supportiveness to the people in my life, but  I'm (not so) secretly spiraling. 

I have a Pollyanna-ish streak, so I keep thinking things will get better; also--I have privilege guilt, so I think things could be so much worse. And I have friends across every spectrum and I keep a lot of things unsaid for fear of hurting their feelings.

Unfortunately the events of the past month are bubbling up to the surface... of my skin. I'm all stress-induced cystic acne and anxiety hives so bad, I'll think of uncomfortable conversations and then just spontaneously erupt. This morning I woke up with scratches on my throat--probably from clawing myself in my sleep. I'm a mess. I feel SO bad about myself. 

I'm glad I finally told my oldest friend SD that I disagreed with them and we went back and forth over text for a while and finally realized we'd never agree. And then they texted: "I love you no matter what." So thankfully, there's that. And yet, I could imagine my kids, who are more radical than I am, scoffing at SD's love and saying the love of someone with those kinds of beliefs shouldn't matter to me. 

But it does. But also, I'm a mess. Follow me for more tips.

"Please DO NOT wash Nazi socks"

I'm hurrying to my first class, head full of details from one of the job searches we're currently on, when I see the sign: "Please DO NOT wash Nazi socks." I walked by... and then walked back... to consider it some more until it clicked--this was a message from the costumer for the student production of Cabaret that is set to start this evening. 

For the rest of the day, I muttered stuff about Nazi socks and it brought me to giggle mode every time. It buoyed me up so much I was able to make it--instead of bailing--on a girlfriends' book club meeting even after a longish search committee meeting.

Not only had I not read the book for book club--honestly, I couldn't even tell you the name of the book under discussion (which never happened). I got to catch up with everyone and drink a colorful margarita though. 

I'm being blasé, but of my four bookclubs--all of which I joined when I moved to Lansing and was desperate to find community--this one consistently picks books that are pretty badly written, but I love the people in it. What more can I say?

Pic: The sign: "Please DO NOT wash Nazi socks. Thank you."

hybridity

I took myself out for a long walk before work this morning and it helped me figure things out. I remembered an agency I could approach for someone's emergency housing situation and the way to change the settings on a program that has been causing the first years some grief. 

It also solved the problem of what I'd be making for dinner: I made a white bean chili with rice.

Apparently that's what happens when you add leftover veggie pulao and rajma in a pot with fresh tomatoes and spinach and the jalapeno-elote appetizers you served over the weekend. After Nu and Big A had remarked on how tasty it was, I told them the alternate name for it was Diwali leftovers soup! Suckers! They didn't see that coming!

Pic: Geese and ducks on the Red Cedar. Shouldn't they already be headed somewhere else for the winter?

plaid power

A 12-hour day at work, but a nice set of classes, and I even found time to read between meetings, so it was nice all around. 

Just a few more weeks of teaching and then it'll be winter break... 

I'll really need to get back to writing at that point. Work on every project has been stalled for weeks--I easily write 1000s of words every day, but it's usually in service of someone else (rec. letters, references, reviews, etc.). I'm looking forward to prioritizing my work again soon.

Pic: Plaid is big on our campus because of our Scottish roots. Today in honor of an evening reception, I had on plaid blouse, plaid pants (OK, leggings--since the pandemic, I so rarely wear actual pants anymore), and plaid socks for the win.

"Talk Me To Sleep"

Certainly, my night-owling, insomnia, and going to bed in the early hours of the morning smacks of sleep procrastination: I stay up doing something I love because I didn't have time for it during my actual day. 

But sometimes it's because Big A is coming off a spate of night shifts and stays up late doing his notes and stuff and I just want to stay up with him. And if he's working nights, 3 am text banter makes me feel like I miss him less. (Although of course this is untenable since he can nap during the day to make up for lost sleep hours while I'm at work.) 

So we've come up with a practice we call "Talk Me To Sleep" where he talks to me (preferably about something bland like his work) until I fall asleep. There's a list of taboo topics--no bringing up Scout or world news or parents' health or finances--nothing disturbing. And there are topics so boring, I've been known to suggest that he saves it for a "Talk Me To Sleep." Yesterday he mentioned being in a "deep, cozy sleep" and I fell in love with that phrase as though it was a magic mantra that could immediately send me into a deep, cozy sleep. Deep, cozy sleep...

Pic: Wind turbines on my way to work. When Big A isn't around, I like to think of their giant arms whooshing through the air to put me to asleep. Perhaps I should start murmuring "deep, cozy sleep" too.