my good companions

Nu was a bit under the weather this morning and wanted to stay in bed. While I was getting peppermint tea and oatmeal to them, Big A took a look at me, gave me a tiny nibble of a treat and took me off for a hike on the Potawatomi Trail. 

By the time we got there, I was nice and mellow and then we spent four hours just scrabbling up and down the trail. It was slow going; on a flat surface we'd have logged 15-16 miles in four hours, but we got in just over ten miles because there was a significant amount of climbing. 

We were being silly and singing songs wrong and laughing and talking for the first couple of hours--we were mostly silent the last couple of hours as we tired, but that felt good too. 

We got back late + Nu didn't want to go + At forgot some meds and would be delayed, so we decided to stay home from the candlelight service at UU. Instead it was dinner and Rocky Aur Rani ki Prem Kahani (with just a little explaining about the old money-new money angle and the snatches of old film songs). 

When Nu was ready to head to bed, we did our traditional pajamas and books presents for the kids and they went off to bed happily laden with new books as usual. I prepped the breakfast pudding for tomorrow and then Big A helped me bring the kids' presents downstairs and put Max and Huck to bed. On to Christmas in earnest now. I am grateful I get to share this life with people who care so much for me.

Pic: Big A waiting for me at the top of a rise. I love how the tree roots criss-cross the path to make natural steps and terraces. Because The Overstory and Braiding Sweetgrass live in my head, I kept wondering if the trees do that to catch us in case we fall.

hiding in plain sight

At the lovely dinner party this evening, no one spoke of Gaza although I know that every single person at the table is agonizing about it, whether because we've been talking about it (Big A, Nu, LB, and TB) or because I know from their socials how upset they are (AH, KG, LV). It's like we have a disease and everyone knows about it, but we have to bravely carry on without discussing it at the dinner table. I played along beautifully.

I was all full of effing holiday cheer in my Rudoph the reindeer overalls with the jingly red nose. And every time someone remarked on it, I was hard pressed not to sing this song. 

Because that would also be inappropriate for this group--some of whom I know from work. Something very much on my mind, because after years at this point, last night I dreamt about the person I brought a Title IX case against. No current students remember him probably--he was asked to leave on the cusp of the pandemic--but in my dream an alumnus visiting the department was curious as to why there was no picture of the abuser in the faculty "gallery." I let it go on for a while, and when the alumnus asked again, I burst out: "Because he was a serial abuser. We don't have his picture up because he abused people." 

And then my dream veered off into a seaplane ride and since the only time I've been on one was near Seattle, that's how it looked. And the only point of the ride was to ooh and aah over some baroque Christmas decorations visible from the air. 

Speaking of which, I am almost ready for Christmas! In fact, I was almost ready last week, but I wasn't happy with the way I'd wrapped some presents, so I went in and did them all over again. No one will notice except for me. But it kinda makes sense to me. I'm so excited to give people their presents.

Pic: A blue tit (I think?) hides among the red winterberries along the Red Cedar. Walk with L. 

sign of the times

Just a reminder to my future self that while I continue to do the things expected of me and that I expect of myself, I'm living a fractured life at the end of 2023. 

Paralysis and helplessness and dissociation walk hand in hand with loss and sorrow and outrage.

I celebrated NWSA, Diwali, Hanukkah, and will celebrate Christmas, and the New Year. Sitting with ancestral songs, family and friends, sharing stories and hopes and food... This is the only way I know to get through this time... To mourn loss while holding love close and celebrating life.

Pic: I love this graphic from the Lebanese musician and artist Mazen Kerbaj, which captures the simultaneity of ongoing horrors and our own modes of survival. There's a clearer version here.

the shortest day's journey into reading and writing

Happy Solstice! I thought I had a solstice hike planned at Fenner Center, but the event seems to have vanished, and we seem to have missed the UU's solstice celebration yesterday. Anyway... I'm still celebrating the arrival of longer days in my heart!

*

I'm almost done with a review letter for a colleague from another university. I dithered for so long because I didn't know where to start as this person is just such an overachiever. I feel even my eight-page letter doesn't do justice to all they do. But I think I've done my best and it may be time to just submit it. (And move on to other writing projects.)

* 

When the kids and I met Justice Sonia Sotomayor at a reading five or so years ago, I was very taken by her two daily rules: do something for someone else (even if it's just a phone call) and read and learn something every day. Although I read a lot for work, it became a practice to read something "for myself" since then. I keep short stories and flash fiction around so I can read something even on days when I don't have time for a longer reading project. 

*

I think that resolution just became easier to keep as my alma mater has just come up with what they're calling The Ten-minute Book Club--a treasury of literary pieces that are quite thought-provoking. There's another similar enterprise they're calling LitHits (it's a Substack) here.

*

And while on writing, a well-known writer friend, PM, is doing a New Year's Eve "write-in" where all of us writers (and wannabes) will be online on New Year's Eve, writing to prompts or following the beat of our own hearts and drums. I can share their invite privately if anyone's interested. 

*

Pic: Max, the librarian, will see you now! Doesn't he just look so magisterial in this? 

(Will I give away my books? I don't think I'm ready! We have a Little Free Library outside that I do keep stocked, however.)

out with the new

L and I decided while we were walking yesterday that it's hopelessly impossible/impracticable/unacceptable to be perpetually happy in the world we live in. BUT! It is possible to create and enjoy moments of joy and then both of us were trying to tell each other the other person was the best at that. "You are the best at creating joy!" "No! You are!!" The ultimate polite fight!

I've been getting so much joy in these past few months taking things to the Fretail Store and getting people things from their online wish lists. Especially from our Buy-Nothing group, which has become mostly requests from people who are going through hard times and need help getting presents for their kids. A family or two a day gets looped into grocery store expenditure and doesn't hurt us. Especially as our own kids are too grown, too cool, and too socially aware for most stuff. And especially since I'm very much of the but-for-the-grace-of-God/the-universe school of thought. 

"I'll get some books and toys for their tree," I chirpily offered online this morning. And then today's family turned out to have 11 kids. But you can't just buy for some kids in the family, so I had to be creative with multipacks of toys and books and games that could be shared. The choices I make are sometimes sad and informed by my CASA training: no food-themed toys, for instance, as food insecurity might be present (Have you ever seen a food-themed object and craved that food? Now imagine you are a kid with no money); no toys requiring adult supervision as single parents are probably already overstretched and overworked; nothing about looking for bio families--so no Are You My Mother-type books. 

Life should be more fair for children. A new mom I know says she'll never tell her kids about Santa since she doesn't want to perpetuate her childhood anguish at seeing Santa bring the rich kids expensive gifts and dollar-store baubles to the poor ones.

Pic: Unopened gifts culled from my kids' rooms headed for the Fretail Store. To be fair, the kids didn't ask for any of these, but I'd pored over catalogues and best-of lists and really thought they'd like them. 

a morning manifesto

(story)

Every morning, with 

exactly seven squeezes 

of lemon in my tea

I feel like every child 

who has ever dreamed 

of being free

(start)

and although the future 

turns out differently 

than it used to be 

everything is still birthed 

and broken, cracked 

open--I still believe 

(stutter) 

I... still try... for love

--here on the ground 

we... could be... become 

a surround... a vast tent... 

a tenderness for children as they 

throw their arms to the sky

_____________________________

Pic: The Red Cedar from the woods behind L's house. It's funny how things get into our heads. I've always liked pictures of the water, but as I was taking this photo, I could hear Engie saying somewhere how she always wants to photograph reflections.

Wild and Precious Life: every day magic

My goodness! First, a (too) generous mention from Nicole... thank you, Nicole! And then this confectioners'-sugar dusting of snow over the day. (Not enough to make me feel like I should shovel or cause any road accidents, but perfect for creating christmassy magic.)

It was too drippy to walk outside so I walked in the mall. And let the record show I spent no money at all. (I did preorder copies of my friend Jan Shoemaker's new book, Slow Learner, at the bookstore, but I'll have to pay only at pickup, so technically I didn't spend today.) And then! I saw JS herself just walking along merrily and got a hug and an update on the wedding she had to attend on Saturday instead of (hmmpf) coming to my cookies and cocktails party. (It was a "dry" wedding she said, making a moue.) A few minutes later, as I was thinking the last time I was at the mall was when we were shopping for JL's mom's birthday...I saw JL! I bet pre-cellphone, 90's teens felt a bit like this when they saw their friends at the mall too.

Pic: Stopping to pick up the mail...