"When you can only go UP"

The title makes this sound like a post about how when things start out pretty bad, they can only get better...

But actually, "When you can only go UP" was Big A's text that accompanied this forlorn picture of Huck on the family chat. She loves to scamper up the back stairs, but freaks out about the descent because they're floating stairs and she could fall through them. She used to be fine with them last year, but probably had a close call and decided that was enough. Now, she'll just mope until someone notices and carries her downstairs. (She looks so darn adorable peeking through the slats though!)

However, in the things getting better department:

I'm happy to hear that the National Guard will be withdrawn from Chicago (also LA and Portland, but Chicago is where At lives now).

The lights over the dining table have been very flicker-y for a couple of days. We've put in a call to the electrician, but in the meantime, we've been eating our dinners by candlelight. I knew I'd be all over it, but Nu and Big A really enjoy the cosy vibe as well.

I've been doing things... with people again. Earlier this week, I went to a movie with friends. We were supposed to get dinner after, but the movie was Hamnet and I cried for at least 70% of the movie and so I came back home. I got coffee today. I'm getting brunch tomorrow. It's not all walks and bookclubs either.

School starts up on Monday for Nu and me. I can't wait to get back to the three R's--return, routine, and regularity.

to a bright timeline

Oh, 2026... thank you for getting my hopes up.

New York has its most progressive and (dare I say) charming mayor, also first democratic socialist, Muslim, South Asian, and youngest (in a century). Closer to us, Detroit has its first woman mayor.

I got my first plant catalog in the mail--surely, it must mean Spring is coming? I bought myself some potted daffodils at Trader Joe's yesterday to pretend, anyway.

There was SUNSHINE and so many rainbows from my new rainbow maker.

And at the neighbors' open house today, I got to catch up and felt more like the social me than I've felt in a long time. (Last night, Big A was at work, Nu had friends over, and I rang in the new year with Max + Huck and family on the phone.)

Pic: Here's Max in freshly fallen snow. He's so delirious and zoom-y, that when I say I'm going to catch him, he runs TOWARDS me.  

Onward!

Yes, it's snowing, but you know what--Max loves the snow! And the way he lifts his head in wonder to look at the sky and then races around in jubilation... it makes me want to catch him and squeeze him tight and thank the world for all its wonders.  

Also wonderful--realizing with relief that what I took to be two spots of fungal infection on my arm are just the marks from my Covid and flu shots from last week. 

Here's to entering 2026 with good health, good cheer, peace, and success, everyone! 💗

Pic: Our holiday card, sans the sappy message I had printed on the back.

a time after this time in three languages

because I had not been intimate with death
I did not know all its names

I had to text a friend who teaches Hindi 

to check if kaal, which means time 

is also an archaic word for death

and it is 

doesn't it make sense?

the passage of time means death

look at old B&W photographs

their grey, grainy flecks, the people 

disappearing before their time

how my mother will stay 

behind at the end of this year

And in Tamil kaal-am, which is time or season

is also the formal, euphemistic word for death

someone's season is over     they passed away       I can't find the vein

there's another kaal in Tamil, and that's toddy 

(perhaps for someone who wants to get blackout drunk 

so they never have to remember grief)

Kaal in Tamil also means stone or rock

(or that which you turn into when death visits

they're gone and now you are too)

Or kaal can mean mountain (from where you can fall 

or where you may want to run away and never return)

Kaal in Tamil and Telugu means legs

(you could use those to run away, maybe to the mountain)

kaal-a in Telugu, though, is dream

(yet another way you could run away) 

and if you say it another way

kaal-a is art 

chitra-kaala is visual art

I don't know what art it is 

to foolishly repeat a word

watch it like a small plant 

breaking tips and branches

until it begins to look strange

and loses meaning 

almost becoming 

something that doesn't exist 

almost

_________________________

Note: The title comes from the lovely Nicole's comforting mantra ("there will be a time after this time") although I may have messed it up a bit by borrowing it for this rumination on the passage and polysemy of time. It feels like I didn't stick the landing...

Pic: From the Lake Superior website ahead of the blizzard. 22-foot waves. To a non-native Midwesterner like me, it seems wild that you all are calling these seas "Lakes."

the next door

this sight is silk, mirroring devotion

window frames or photo frames 

the wetness of the day ahead

                              is already foreseen 

where are the saints of broken dreams

and empty hearts--summon them

I see a familiar face, then see

                      that, for now, it's just me

but did I not wish once upon a time 

to know myself, sight the filigree

of light? On this threshold

                      I could pause, gratefully

________________

Pic: Cream paperwhites in the foreground, magenta cyclamen at the back. What I think of as my "secret" flowers make today's blizzard bearable.

homemade parade

if I could take today in my arms

bewitchingly like a toddler 

to carry it into the future

to the world outside

where I have yet 

to go in 

perhaps 

because as winter 

breaths stab restive

I discover... lying here 

that I can say love and mean 

more than a million different things 

Pic: A scoop of snow remains in the bird's nest out front.

Updates: My back is better i.e., back to its customary and manageable amount of pain. I've successfully put away Christmas 2025: tree, decor, outdoor decoration, gift wrap, and all. Hallelujah.

12/30: Changing the last word of line #2 to "toddler" (from "mother") after a genius suggestion from Nance. 

the unwrapping/unraveling

I'm so grateful for your kindnesses. 

Sorry for being such a whiny ass B yesterday. In my defense, it was a lot at once. A reset is in order.

In the great Christmas unwrapping, my favorites were the book plates so I can really pretend (ha) to be a librarian, and a rainbow maker (it was a "nostalgia present" because I'd given At one when she was a kid and ended up enjoying it more than At had).

At, Nu, and I opened up Amma's suitcase before our Christmas afternoon nap. I'd brought that suitcase back from Bangalore in September and left it in the garage.When we brought it in this week... I realized it was locked... and I had no idea where I had put the key. I remember threading it through the ring of a purse but that was many moons ago, and I don't remember which purse that was. We ended up breaking the (tiny) lock with a hammer. I have saris for a lifetime. The kids didn't want a thing. 

Another thing to unwrap arrived right before Christmas, but I didn't have time until after... Final proofs of the book! The previous proofs looked like a Word document. This one looks like a book! I dedicated the book to Amma.

Pic: I've been giving myself lots of extra time for things since September, and have not been too tough on myself. But I plan to reset starting Monday so I can go into the new year with a fresh mindset. I"m not sure this resolution generator here is it :), but I have a few ideas.