Last day of classes, first holiday party

Last day of classes, first holiday party. 

It's that time of the year when faculty colleagues, admin, staff, community members are celebrating in the same room. I wore my Christmas tree earrings.

Pic: "The Scots on the Rocks" are singing "We Three Kings" here. They prefaced the carol with the James Bond theme--cute. 

Later, they sang "Last Christmas" and a non rape-y version of "Baby it's Cold Outside" both of which Nicole had recently mentioned as being favorites!

"it's that little souvenir of a terrible year/which makes my eyes feel sore"

I thought I was done collecting snow globes... 

But I was at the store getting personal hygiene products for my students' community service project and this snow globe called out to me. Scout loved Christmas... and I like how this one makes it as though Scout is getting a visit with Santa this year too.

It plays "We wish you a merry Christmas" and I never wind it up all the way, so it plays really slowly and sounds super sad. Like those songs which do double duty with an upbeat happy version and a slower sad version. "Que sera, sera" in The Man Who Knew Too Much is the only example I can think of right now... It's a really big thing in Bollywood films, something the kids love to parody with basically any song. 

Anyway...

It's the first Christmassy thing I've set out this year.

(Big A and I still tear up every day/every other day when we talk about Scout, who took so much of my heart with him. Does anyone have the timeline for when things will get better?)

Pic: Inside a snow globe with Scout and Santa. Wish I could be in there. #It'sMyBlogAndI'llBeMaudlinIfIWantTo

The title is from one of my favorite nostalgic songs from the 90s--The Sundays' "Here's Where the Story Ends." 

snake sandwiches and puppy scuffles

I guess today continues the theme of elementary-school-level hijinks from yesterday. 

One of my fellow members (on the search committee to hire a biologist at the college) noticed that my eyes got wider and wider the longer the conversation about "arboreal garter snakes" went on. 

They kindly shared this information with the rest of the committee. 

Then the "jokes" started. What do those snakes eat? Well, they don't know about Maya yet. What are we ordering for dinner tomorrow? How about some snake sandwiches? And so on and so on. I'm glad I brought some levity to a work meeting that went on until past 7 pm. 

Snake sandwiches. Shudder.

Pic: (1) Max, (2) a previously-loved stuffie now being used as a chew/tug toy, (3) Huck, and (4) Big A on the floor by my feet as I graded. I can barely tell where Huck ends and the stuffie begins.

"I'm a weirdo"

I stopped at JG's before I headed home to drop off a care basket and a card that many of us, her old colleague-friends, had signed. Sadly, when I was getting the basket out of the back of the car, the vase of flowers I had balanced on the hood of the car [Q: why?!?!?!?; Ans: it had been a very long day!!] fell and shattered in her driveway.

I barged into her kitchen looking for a dustpan and brush to sweep up the mess and she kept insisting that they'd get it in the morning. Then her partner MB sneakily tried to rush past me with the dustpan. That triggered something atavistic in me and I sort of grabbed him and tickled him to make him give up the dustpan. And then we went out and cleared up the smashed vase together.

Later we were all talking about something serious and I just burst out with "OMG, I tickled MB." I mean we all laughed... but they're probably thinking I'm a weirdo, because that's exactly what I'm thinking. 

(And also now I'm thinking of how Radiohead says "weirdo" in a weird way and all the times my friends and I thought we'd spotted Thom Yorke at various cafes in Oxford. It was the early aughts and they were already quite famous, so I'm not sure anymore.)

Pic: Big A and I have weirdly elongated parking lot silhouettes!

“The Drifting”

I was so sad today to learn that Lynn Rather, a wonderful human and poet, has passed on to another plane. I met Lynn only once--we were billed together at a reading--but she made a strong impression of strength, sass, and cigarette smoke. AK and DD were good friends with her and with her at the end.

from “The Drifting” by Lynn Rather

on nights like this I think

I have not loved enough,
I have not given as much as I could.

snow blows and drifts across fields.
that is what it does.

the wind roars and then is gone.
that is what it does.

they give themselves utterly, and move on.

__________

Pic: The pretty, pretty snow persisted today. I took this from an upstairs window--I'd just stepped out of my room, and my heart lifted on seeing Nu and Max playing outside.

from fall to falling snow

traveling away from awakening

from fall to falling snow

in a hush wide as freedom 

here I am, disguised as myself
first as rock, then as sand
then sand in an hourglass

I hear birds questioning the day

the cold is sage as a mother-- 

and savage--holding us still 

__________

Pic: Snowfall along the Red Cedar. I've been keeping my promise to myself to get out (of the house/of my head) and walk more.

"Oops, I did it again!"

I just finished Deepa Varadarajan's Late Bloomers the book Nicole inadvertently recommended. It's not terrific, but it is about South Indians in the U.S., and I kept reading out of curiosity.  It's about people in their 50s dating other people after having been married to each other for 30+ years.

Coincidentally, an older colleague of Big A's is going through a divorce at 60+ and I was surprised to hear Big A say that perhaps after 60 people should just stay put in their relationships. I find that disturbing--surely people should be free to start over at any point in their lives? Why should someone live another 30 potential years with someone they don't like?

And then, oops! Straight on the heels of finishing one book about South Indians, I started Abraham Verghese's Covenant of Water and am loving the intensely South Indian location and poetics of it all. There was a moment where a character helps a vendor lift the wicker basket off their head and land it on the ground--and that gesture seemed to tug at some memory of seeing that... in a movie? My grandmother's house? I think the writing is beautiful and the story compelling... but honestly, maybe I like it so much because there are flashes of the city I grew up in? And there's an elephant! What more could I want?

Pic: Big A, Huck (lounging near me), and Max (longing for me).