good gardener; bad farmer

We've actually had luck with the veggie plots this year. 

Back in May, when we started, we laid plastic mesh down in the beds to discourage underground animals and lighter netting above ground as protection from birds and squirrels. This double-layered protection seems to have worked.

But while I'm good at keeping things alive, I suck at harvesting. The tomatoes beckon with their bright colors, and I grab them when I'm out with Max and Huck. But the peppers, kale, cucumbers, herbs, and zucchini need to be gathered too.

Pic: Today's tomatoes... and those to come.

Six on Saturday

1) Yesterday on our local NPR station's "Michigan Minute" they talked about The Who's drummer Keith Moon celebrating his 21st birthday in Flint, MI with a wild cake party, driving his car into the pool at the Holiday Inn, and getting arrested. Later yesterday, I read about the same incident in the novel I was reading (Chevy in the Hole! Recommended!). On the anniversary of when it first happened on August 23, 1967!

2) Nu came home from school with homework and... a terrible facial rash. There were lots of photos on family chat and we ended up going to Urgent Care who deemed it contact dermatitis, which is a nothingburger of a diagnosis. It could be due to sunscreen, new detergent, or something in the air. Nu got a steroid shot and a prednisone taper to help. 

3) Today, I was blissfully soaking in the hot tub when I got chills all over--one floor up, on the other side of the window glass, I could see a very delicate shape slithering around, flickering out its tongue and waving its tail. A snake. Nu laughed at me when I told my "scary story." "So a snake lives outside where it's supposed to live" was their reasonable summary of the situation. I had to laugh too. The family has now dubbed the snake Mx. Slithers. 

4) I'm totally wowed by the 90-second video StephLove's son Noah worked on for the DNC--it was the walk-on video for Kamala Harris! He also worked on this piece about abortion. 

5) Also, hello--Kamala's HQ is all about the "Brat" rebranding, but I've been my own version of "Brat" since 2006!  My "Brat" comes from a nickname my schoolmates gave me based on my other first name and the "Poco" part is both the usual abbreviation of "Po(st)co(lonial)" and "un Poco."

6) Pic: My blurry picture of our black-eyed Susans--I was afraid Mx. Slithers would jump out at me, I guess.

learning to haunt

I walk so far, all I can remember 

of life is living itself 

the sunset stippling my face as 

the arch in my foot aches   

I dream about shadows in the woods

and hug my hunger close 

like a tiny puddle that will be sucked 

back into the earth overnight 

______________

Pic: resplendent evening skies, puddles

American Empire

[If you're riding a high from the DNC, please skip this post. 

I'm a bit demoralized from the bread-and-circuses model. I want to hear more about childcare, labor, healthcare, paid family leave, housing, etc. and less about "lethal fighting forces." I can't stop thinking how according to the Department of Housing and Urban Development, it would cost $20 billion to end homelessness in the United States and we sent that much just this week to an ally who will use it to bomb civilians in Gaza.]

Morning   I thought UAW (United Auto Workers) leadership stated it succinctly, "If we want peace, if we want real democracy, and if we want to win this election, the Democratic Party must allow a Palestinian American speaker to be heard from the DNC stage tonight."

I spent hours calling representatives and helping friends call their representatives to get at least two minutes for Rep. Ruwa Romman of Georgia to speak from the main stage on behalf of Palestinian Americans. In her vetted speech, she would have endorsed Harris-Walz and encouraged uncommitted voters to unite behind them. But none of that happened. This was an immense opportunity for goodwill squandered by the Harris-Walz camp.

Afternoon A colleague I hadn't seen all summer asked me if I was excited Kamala Harris is a presidential nominee. I must have looked blank because he clarified, "She's an Indian woman!" This no doubt comes from a well-meaning place, but I probably have more in common with her Marxist professor father than with someone who was a D.A. 

And also, I wondered if it would be rude if I in turn asked him if he was excited because Trump is a presidential nominee as they're both white men.

Evening   Snippets from the Democratic National Convention.

"I will ensure America always has the most lethal fighting force..." (Kamala Harris) 

"U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.!" (crowd)

"So they put a rifle in my hand/sent me off to a foreign land/to go and kill the yellow man" (Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the U.S.A." plays overhead) [Why do people think this is a patriotic song to play at conventions?!]

(Last) First day!

And Nu is off to school as a senior. 

I was permitted maybe 20 seconds to take a picture this morning--but only because I begged (please Nu, it's the last first day of school!)! So I don't have any pics in which Max and Huck aren't blurry. But look at our Nu! All tall and shiny and ready!

After I posted on FB, I watched the memories roll in: the friend who threw my bridal shower and was Nu's first visitor, Nu's daycare provider, my aunts, grade school friends, old neighbors... the sweet, earnest suggestions from the young friends who used to be my students...

People are such a blessing in my life. 

Nu had a good first day: they attended the half-day of school, went out to lunch with friends, came home to veggie upma, and opened their back-to-school presents. (At and I found some tees we thought they'd like when we went thrifting last week, so with some new notebooks, a calendar, a copy of Ross Gay's Book of Delights, a handful of study snacks, and their six-month supply of contacts that just came in, there was plenty for them to unbox.)

Pic: Screengrab from my FB post about Nu's first day as an H.S. senior. That's a lot of "likes" and comments, but please note at least four of those comments are just from my mom! lol

Phil Donahue dies and two Js break my heart

TW, CW: Child Sexual abuse, Disordered eating. 

Phil Donahue died yesterday. I'm glad he lived. I watched reruns of his show when it aired in India and I think it was my first experience of watching people very different from me tell their stories and noting how it shifted my mindset. I learned only *today* while listening to his obituary on NPR that his spouse was Marlo Thomas! My mom played us Free to be You and Me (that's all I know her from), which we loved back in the day, and I'm glad he had such a worthy companion. 

J #1 is in Big A's hometown of Yellow Springs, Ohio. In fact, J babysat Big A when he was a kid! Our kids were in nursery school together, and Nu loved her son E. In fact, that's what Nu announces on camera in the 2012 annual Antioch School video: "I love him!". J is sweet and serene and generous. So when she shared on FB yesterday that it was a Phil Donahue episode on incest that helped her understand the abuse she had experienced since the age of 6 (she was around 12 when the show aired), I really wanted to find and hurt her abuser. Instead, I posted a supportive message, and she said, "Knowing people like you helps healing."  That also broke my heart.

J #2 is local, fun, and feminist. And... it makes me really sad that she obsesses over her weight. I think she is beautiful, but she won't believe me. So one minute we're talking politics, and the next she'll bemoan not being thin. Literally. No warning or segue. Yesterday, she was talking about Hillary Clinton at the DNC and the next thing she texted was: "She looks thin and beautiful. My Dr won't give me ozempic. Two neighbors are on it and in two months they lost 30 lbs!" And then she listed what she ate and her weight. She barely eats, and I feel sad about her poor body doing its best and J punishing it by withholding food. Not to mention how all the frequent diet, exercise, and weightloss talk makes me think about body issues more than I ever want to. I want to be a good friend, but this is breaking my heart (and also my spirit).

Pic: What pic? I realized I've been so busy with the back-to-campus Fall Conference that I haven't taken any pics at all. Yikes.

watermelon and chocolate chip

Story 1: I'm embarrassed to admit this, but when the term "watermelon people" was used online last week, I bristled because I thought it was an anti-black slur. Apparently, it's anti-Palestinian. I'm bristling.

Story 2: Today I saw our new theater director standing by themselves in the cafeteria and as I started to introduce myself, she told me she remembered being introduced to me in the parking lot when she had her campus visit. We ended up having lunch together and while we were saying goodbye I marveled that she remembered me from that one interaction all those months ago (March? April?). And she laughingly said, "Oh, I remember you, Chocolate chip!" LOL. She's a person of color too, and we are a PWI. 

Pic: The beautiful watermelon earrings Rev. KPB gave me this morning!