shenanigans

Today I was busier than anyone ought to be at the start of summer--but there were huge deadlines to meet. And although I'd been working on them steadily for the past week, the final steps were still due. 

All done now (3:12 am): submitted MCTE materials, turned in Spring Term grades, approved pending NWSA proposals (and created and titled about twenty panels). Not a bad day's work. 

Remember when I wanted to set a timer to take regular breaks? Turns out I don't have to if there is a puppy who needs frequent potty breaks. So I got outside a lot too--it was gloriously summery.

Pic: Max gamboling. When you're so little, you can just slip through the fencing where mom's flowers are...

conviction

windows look to the sky

they look  like  skies

birds could fly into

weightless the horizon

and  sightless  the sky 

yet birds fly there too 

there is only waiting

and  the  wearing 

of shiny new loss

 dreaming  up  sequels

where we just call for

birds to fly through

Pic: Peonies are showing off.

Memorial Day

Yesterday we made a little Scout memorial. 

Originally, I thought we'd scatter his ashes around the bend where he'd come bounding to greet me. The wild phlox is in season again, so all that's missing from the scene of my favorite photo is Scout. But then I began to worry that if we moved to a different house in the future, we'd be leaving some part of him here, so I decided to continue to keep his ashes on the altar. As Big A pointed out, that little space off the kitchen where the altar is really is where Scout spent a lot of time hanging out with me while I meditated, or he waited for me to finish my kitchen chores, or he hung out trying to convince me to give him pets or treats.

I went through a lot of memorial stones with words on them, but I knew even as I checked with Big A that he'd find them too cheesy/ersatz. So I went with a rainbow wind chime and a solar lantern, and we set those up yesterday. I think I'll add a laminated photo to the wind chime in a bit. It was comforting to have a space for our memories of Scout while indulging in nostalgia and family hugs. And when I took Max out for a potty break at midnight, the pretty, patterned light from the perforated lantern was a sweet and steadying presence.

Pic: Scout's memorial. In the background, today's picnic with EM and Nu.

Mother's Day!! (observed!)

We celebrated Mother's Day today as I was in England on the actual day. All day long At/Nu/Big A would say "Happy Mother's Day!" And then add sotto voce--"observed!"--as though they were reading off a calendar. Perhaps you had to be there, but it was low key hilarious. 

It was a Happy Mother's Day for me. We made breakfast tacos, which turned out delicious (At and Big A took some leftovers for later). At and Nu helped me dig up and plant some redbud saplings that L gave me and then we all worked in the garden as has become our custom. At and Nu put the new garden chairs together, Huck climbed on top of the picnic table to sun herself as she always does, and Max followed me around as I weeded and puttered and then flopped into the grass by my feet to nap. When the chairs were built (hi-jinks and a few YouTube videos were involved), we picnicked with lemonade and donuts. Nu and Huck headed back inside and I had a lovely heart-to-heart with my eldest while Max napped on my feet. 

Pic: The kids with me before card, presents, and heading outside...

 

scale

Max is tiny; the responsibilities are huge. 

One forgets the massive undertaking the care and keeping of little ones can be. 

He's absolutely adorable; the way he toddles around being curious about everything is my favorite thing. What it must be to be all of eight weeks old in the world! I keep thinking Scout, friend to all beings, would have loved to play with him. 

Max likes shoes and has made a little pile of toys, shoes and hand towels in the rumpus room... I'm hoping that the people who live in my house and love their Converses, Docs, and Campers will start putting them away properly out of fear of Max now. Ha.

Pic: Nu with Huck and Max in the backyard.

no way but welcome

Max is here. Welcome, little one! 

This is a crazy idea and the timing seems way off. But I feel my heart growing as I find ways to welcome Max into the family. JN whose idea this was initially is 100% this is the right move (I was drinking a non alcoholic cider slushie yesterday so I was fully present), the rest of the family seemed convinced too, and suddenly we have a new puppy.

So far: Max, who is all of eight weeks old, is very enamored of Nu; likes to cuddle me like a lovey and sleep on my feet if I'm in a chair; pooped in the backyard three times like a champion; peed in the house twice by accident; likes walks and tolerates a leash; learned to ‘aah cheppu’ (say aah)  and eat from a spoon; is afraid of train sounds in our backyard; likes treats, but does not care for chewy treats; has learned to play with toys; has barfed up a meal; has chewed through a charging cable; is definitely the best poser in the family…

Huckie has been ignoring Max for the most part, although she's the main reason he's here. That and the fact that Max needed a family and a home. Huckie has been so forlorn since Scout. Big A and I have been worried about her going into decline as she was uninterested in most things, not eating enough, and--this part freaked us out--doing things only Scoutie used to do like refuse to use stairs, lie absolutely still with a tail wagging welcome, etc. We hope Huckie and Max will be best-friend-sibs, but if that doesn't happen, that's ok too. I'm perfectly fine if she decides to live her best life out of spite; she certainly seems more animated already.

(Scout was named for Scout Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird; Huck was named from Huckleberry Finn; Max is named for Max from Where the Wild Things Are--well, we already have a "Rumpus Room," nothing left to do but let the wild rumpus start, I suppose.)

dinnertime rapture

by day's end
the tuning fork stabbed so deep 

into my heart begins to sound 

some kind of song

and the sky is

a syrupy catastrophe--but somehow

now even moths lumbering blindly

signify hope

Pic: Smelling the lilacs with L