the last supper

There are thirteen of us at the table. But just our awesome, regular selves. (No Jesuses or Judases.)

Headed for home come morning! At least half the class has journaled about not being ready to head home. Not me though.

I was both right to be worried about the tornado yesterday, and judging from the photos of the devastation I've been seeing, I wasn't nearly worried enough! I did tell Big A that I thought he should call in back-up and go home to check on the kids, but he talked me down. And I quote: "It’s inconceivable that our house alone was hit by a tornado without damage to any other structures. Meaning if Nu was under rubble EMS would already be on our street." And later, "I have multiple sick patients right now and multiple procedures….I can’t leave anytime soon regardless." Plenty of room for a fight, but I'm just glad everyone is alright.

Pic: A lucky restaurant find--a "food hall" with a variety of cuisines. So perfectly in keeping with our "cosmopolitan" theme.

Immigrant Mom Tours

I didn't increase the course fee for this travel course, because we had a surplus in 2023 (it's every other year). But gosh, it has been a challenge with the way the dollar is doing and things generally being more expensive in the U.K. anyway and because of Brexit.

Things worked out because I booked and arranged every bit of this trip myself to stay within budget, comparison shopping for the best prices like the immigrant mom I am. Ironically, Big A does all the other travel arrangements in my life, so I don't have a ton of experience. I'm so glad all our reservations worked! 

Today we used our final reservation to head out to St. Martin in the Fields to hear Edward Picton-Tuberville and Harriet Burns in concert.  The acoustics were ethereal, the performers were excellent, + they were so young, they gave me Sally Rooney vibes. 

A bit of drama in the morning as there'd been a tornado warning back home, and Nu had gone to the basement with Max and Huck after Big A had headed off to work. And then we lost touch with Nu, and I began imagining my babies were trapped under a pile of rubble. It was the middle of the night, and we couldn't rouse At or any of our neighbors, so I finally called the police station for a wellness check. I probably got on their nerves by telling them repeatedly that Max and Huck would be noisy because they would be taken by surprise. But IYKYK, I guess. I did not want my babies to become a part of the 10,000 pet dogs U.S. police officers shoot every year. (Everyone was fine. We'd lost power and Nu had fallen asleep--it was the middle of the night, after all.)

Pic: We couldn't get near Trafalgar Square on the day we did the London tour because it was VE Day and there was a parade. But I love Landseer's lions, probably because they look like dogs, and wanted a photo of the class with one. I didn't want to be in the picture because I didn't want to pass my germs on. But people insisted, so here I am skulking, looking like a Darth Vader wannabe. I'm actually smiling behind my mask!

I wonder what At's Pre-K teacher thought

I dosed up on Lemsip (which is like Theraflu, but works better) and we headed out to Oxford for another day of lectures with Robert J.C. Young, who had been my professor and is a Fellow of Wadham College. 

I'm glad we didn't cancel. 

I thought the room he'd booked for us at Wadham--the Cecil Day Lewis Room--was a lucky coincidence. But as he told my students, he booked it precisely because back when I was there, that was where we had our seminars. (Cecil Day Lewis the poet is the father of Daniel Day Lewis the actor!)

I had to tell my students the funny story about when I took At to one of Robert's parties in NYC (after he'd moved to NYU). Hoping for good behavior, I'd told five-year-old At who came with me that it was for work (as it was!). There were a lot of British and European folks at the party, so there were a lot of those greetings where you hug and then kiss on both cheeks. Lo and behold, later that week when going through At's schoolwork, I came across this gem: "My mom went to work and kissed everybody." I always wonder what At's teacher thought of that.

Pic: The class with Robert J.C. Young (and C. Day Lewis on the wall)

"Boo, you 'ho"

I think I'm sick. 

Of course, the correct response to that (on our family chat anyway) would be "Boo, you 'ho" (without the hard "r"). 

It could be the pollen merrily floating around. I've dosed myself liberally with Lemsip and am currently loopier than ever.

Pic: Our picnic at Hyde Park today. People declaiming from set Hyde Park pieces (Orwell, Shaw, Marx, C.L.R. James, William Morris) or topics they're passionate about (The Globe's R&J, Bram Stoker's Dracula, guns in general.)

my real life is waiting

I can count on the fingers of one hand the days before we're scheduled to head for home! I'm trying to stay in the moment, but home is definitely calling. London looks like a vacation, but it's actually a 24-7 gig.

I miss Max, Huckie, Nu, At, and Big A fiercely. Pictures of their dinners together or Max asleep under furniture with just his tail poking out can make me happy... or cry.

And I can't wait to get back to routine. I've lost touch with my Duolingo, I keep forgetting to take my vitamins, my hair feels so different...

Things to do after arrival are beginning to pile up: Committee meetings, writing deadlines, final grades... Also: watering my zillion plants, Nu's graduation party, traveling to my baby cousin's wedding reception in NJ.

Proposal reviews for NWSA are due this Saturday, so I worked on those for a while. I'm almost halfway done and beginning to feel less panicky about being done in time.

Pic: Getting to tour Bloomsbury with Cindy and Mike was fantastic. Here we're at the bust of Rabindranath Tagore. The piece that C&M declaimed was the same piece I'd assigned for our reading this morning, so that was extra cool.

Big Maya and the Jinx

In the first week of classes while we were talking about cultural appropriation and the habit colonizers have of naming other people's stuff after themselves, the class decided that we should name something iconic in London after ourselves. Someone proposed that Big Ben should henceforth be called "Big Maya" and that kind of stuck. Every now and then there'll be a reference to "Big Maya" in someone's homework when I'm grading after a long day to bring me a chuckle.

This particular class has been a delight. They handmade me a Mother's Day card. They quote in loco parentis at me. They've taken to posting candid guerrilla pictures of me on the group chat with entertaining observations. All the graduating students have said how happy they are that their last class is with me.

I was just thinking I was so lucky when--at the very next sightseeing stop--one person did some yelling. Talk about jinxes. I was so surprised, I started crying (behind my sunglasses, luckily). I excused myself for a while, reminded myself that I was a Big Maya, that the young person was responding from fear, and that this is part of being in loco parentis too. All good now. 

Pic: Long bus tour today to visit Stonehenge (here), Bath, the Cotswolds, and Stratford-upon-Avon.

Marx or... Lennon

Happy Mother's Day! Mine started with a phone call to my mom and finished up with a long phone call with At. Texts, reminiscences, and photos through the day and the promise of a proper celebration when (if) I get back.

A walking tour of Karl Marx sites with some students in the morning. I was joking that we should guess if the groups gathering at the meeting point were there for the Marx tour or the Beatles tour. And clever AB ad libbed that we could call the game "Marx or Lennon." (Said like "Lenin.") I almost died laughing.

A visit to Shakespeare's Globe later in the afternoon where they staged Romeo and Juliet as a western... and it worked so well! In the scene where Capulet threatens Juliet (Act 3, Scene 5), he brandished his gun on his daughter and wife and it was such a great accessorial representation of his toxic patriarchy. There was an awesome moment of chemistry between Mercutio and one bright-eyed, curly-headed member of the audience we were all buzzing about in the interval as well.

Pic: The view from our seats. Mercutio did unspeakable things to the pillar we had to imagine from the look on everyone else's faces.