coming along

After we dug a bigger pond in December, the weather got wintry, so we didn't get to work on it. But yesterday, we wrestled the pond liner (it weighed over 300 pounds!) into place and started filling the pond.

Today I spent nearly eight hours pulling the liner tight and anchoring it with dirt. This involved digging a trench alongside the outer wall, lifting and folding the liner, and then shoveling the dirt tight around it. I counted it as today's workout. 

Nu was with friends and Big A is in Milwaukee, so it was just Huckie, Max, and me. But it was SUCH A LOVELY DAY, it felt like a blessing to be outside.

It still looks pretty messy and I still have to find a way to edge it so the pond liner is hidden under more natural elements. Sometimes garden projects take years to look pretty, but I'm not known for my patience.

Pic: The sun smiling on my labors. I love the heart-like indent at the top of the pond. MSU dorms in the distance.

how to make friends

If you're Max it means you just follow the person you want to befriend until they get tired and flop down. Then you can flop down really close to them or on top of them. It doesn't matter if they're smaller than you. You're just a baby. Then they're your best friend. And when someone else comes into the room, you can do the same to them so you have a lot of best friends. It's also called family.

I don't think Max gets consent, we'll have to teach him better. Big A is reading The Bee Sting now and both of us chuckle with horror (is that possible?) at how clueless 12-year-old PJ, one of the narrators, is. 

Pic: Huck submerged under Max early this morning.

solar eclipse of the heart

I'd never seen a solar eclipse before... I've watched live coverage on television, but haven't looked directly at one. 

Like the Hopi Indians, Hindu Indians believe the eclipse is a time of meditation. So usually, I just sit in a dark room. But we were in the path of near totality (96%) and this could be my only chance in this lifetime unless I chase one down through travel (unlikely). So I decided to get solar eclipse-safe glasses and peek out.

I'm glad I did; it was pretty cool. Through the glasses, the eclipse progressed as though a set of illustrations in a science textbook. But when I tried to take pictures, it looked like a normal picture of the sun. 

I felt tense in the moments before the eclipse started... Big A was in a meeting with students and residents, Nu was in school, At was at work... I would see them all later in the day, but it was weird being the only human in the house knowing an event of cosmic significance was taking place. I sat with all the drapes shut in the rumpus room so Max and Huck wouldn't accidentally sear their retinas. L and some other GFs were texting to share our experience.  Nu came home just before peak totality (around 3:00 pm) and (superciliously 😛) helped me understand why my phone camera wasn't picking up the eclipse.

On social media people have been raving about how it was a transformative experience for them; I must admit I was underwhelmed. Since I'm transported by even fairly low-key natural phenomena like new grass or birdsong in the city or a regular sunrise, I was really expecting the eclipse to unlock something in me... but nothing happened. So that's my eclipse story: 4/8/2024; I was there.

Pic: The sun is about a quarter of the way through the eclipse here. (Not what I thought my eclipse picture would look like.)

I'm just over here

...with Max's heart-shaped schnoz, reading everything I can get my hands on, and grading all the things because it's that time in the world and in the semester.

I'm also taking hope from the "uninstructed" voters in Wisconsin today. I am not alone, and I hope our politicians will listen to us. In the meantime, there are people to love, work to do, and Arabic to learn.

It was an easy day today, overall--the peskiest thing was spending an hour in the car to drop off "meal-train" food. Usually, it would take 20 minutes, but the family had requested it at 5, so I got enmeshed in rush-hour traffic. 

Pic: Max (and Huckie behind him) keeping me warm, soft, and sane. 

(Forgive the lighting... Big A and Nu like a red palette for the rumpus room lighting. It's a bit like being in The Shining in the evenings.)

As it turns out...

there was no ceasefire... there was never a ceasefire... And in the time I thought it was safe to look away, the last hospital in Gaza has been completely razed to the ground, bodies have been bulldozed, and more aid workers have been killed in deliberate, precisely targeted strikes. I remember the first time Al Shifa was bombed in November, and thinking it may have been accidental.

I think I will go mad with the children's voices. One says: Bury me with him... My dear brother... my dear brother... where will I get another brother like you? Another says:  I was beautiful before the war... so beautiful... but the war made us ugly... it's the corpses... the war ruined us all.

Gaza will need humanitarian help for a long time, and Big A and I are learning Arabic, hoping to do our part. His doctoring skills are more salient, but when Nu heads for college (fingers crossed) in a year, I'm sure there will be plenty I can do on the ground as well. A friend told me that when someone dies people will say "el bakia fi hayat hom" to their family, meaning "I hope you continue the life (of the person who died)." This is the only thing that makes sense to me now. 

Pic: Big A with his arm slung around Max and a Huckie blur. I kind of need to take Max's place for a while.

Ick and Yay

ICK: Something Engie mentioned in yesterday's comments made me wonder how I know of John Ruskin. It's almost all second-hand (save a few anthologized passages here and there), and from knowing people like William Morris, Tolstoy, and Gandhi revered him. I knew he was radical and sort of a socialist precursor and that he was a friend of the working class because Ruskin College in Oxford offers adult education. (Ruskin was an art prof at Oxford, Ruskin College is not part of the Oxford system, however.) I thought I'd read his Wiki to learn more... there were no big surprises except about his statement, "I like my girls from ten to sixteen" and learning he'd asked women whom he'd met when they were preteens to marry him. What is it with Victorians and the fetishization of prepubescents? That's already ruined Alice (Lewis Carroll) and Little Nell (Dickens) for me. And hurt who knows how many children in real life?

Pic: YAY for yesterday's egg hunt: Huck, Nu, At, and Max. 

I... we all.. missed Scout so much. We were so, so lucky to have him last year.  This was Max's first, and I hide puppy treats in the eggs as well, so he really got into this new game. 

This year the easiest clue rhymed "...arboreal" with "...Scout's memorial." They had a tough time with "...you could"/ "...birthday dogwood" (the dogwood tree my dear friends got me for my birthday). They didn't get it even after I explained it. "DOG WHAT? DOG WOOD?" They kept asking me. How do they not know what a dogwood is? Should I have taught them better? It made me laugh so much because they sounded so clueless! They're so sweet for still being all in about the egg hunt though.  

Easter: rising to the occasion

Our egg hunt with the rhyming clues and then Easter brunch went on till nearly 2 pm, so the day seemed shortened, but there was still plenty of time for other stuff like a leisurely two-hour ramble by myself.

I even managed to get the last pesky details of a five-person panel proposal worked out; finished up the Works Cited page for an article that was accepted; made a sleep playlist (it's 4:30 am and I'm typing so it's probably not the success I thought it would be, but it is lovely); and need to work on some "context notes" for three poems accepted to an anthology. But also tomorrow is soon enough.

Pic: A partial pic of our buffet before people got there. The kids and I have been making those little boiled-egg chicks with carrot beaks and sesame eyes and cheese-filled pepper "carrots" since they were tots!

coincidence

if a mouth wails of never

do the lifted eyes count

to hold the world close 

to call it done... a day

crushed easily as a flower

we've said less this year

I catch the light, press 

in one more goodbye

had you remained forever

I could have loved more

yet owe thanks for our

time here ur-gently

coinciding

________________

Pic: Max frolicking. His rascally, trusting eyes and floppy ears are my favorite. This darling turned one today. This was also the week Scout took ill last year--he'd be gone in exactly a month. Somehow, it always feels like Scout arranged for me to meet Max. I know looking after Max and watching his antics lifted me from the depths of so much this last year. Love you, Maxie! I hope you enjoyed your banana and peanut butter pupcake, extra long walk, and the new squeaky toy you've already disemboweled.

Happy National Puppy Day!

Happy National Puppy Day!

Max turns a whole year old tomorrow!

Huckie always looks like a puppy...

TIL that Chopin's Minute Waltz was inspired by a puppy chasing its tail. In fact, it's even known as Valse du petit chien!

It was a cold day, with snow still on the ground, but we played outside under blue skies and sunshine and then napped like champs. (I'd done all my weekend chores in anticipation of being out of town, so there was nothing to do today but make chicken soup and check in on Big A now and then.)

Pic: Max and Huck in conversation.

the hellebores of yore

I took a picture of our hellebores coming up yesterday, and a good thing too... today they're blanketed in about five inches of snow.

The snow wasn't going to stop us from heading to Yellow Springs for a long overdue visit to Grandma S tomorrow...

Except Big A seems to have gotten the flu from patients (lots of Flu B out there, people)... so I guess we're not going after all.

My poor MIL! this is our much delayed and postponed CHRISTMAS visit! The post title sounds like an old-timey lament, and that's exactly how I feel.

Pic: Hellebores/Lenten Roses in the backyard before the snow.

"Ting-Ting" / The Bee Sting / Spring things

Nu's much-loved lovey, Silky the Bee, used to go "buzz-buzz, ting-ting" back in the day. We still use Nu's toddler-ese "ting-ting" to refer to bee stings.

I've been chuckling over that while reading Paul Murray's The Bee Sting--a book both At and Big A gave me copies of at Christmas! (I've since returned the copy Big A gave me.) I was savoring this novel, frequently chortling out loud, as it was delightful in a Derry Girls kind of way... but things have taken a disquieting turn and the sexual violence is quite terrifying... I can't wait to be done now.

Pic: Huck and Max got a Spring haircut and look a bit strange. The bows on Huck's ears make it look like she has ponytails! Outside is somehow snow AND flowers.

Prep time

So the Gaza talk is done. Honestly not sure how it went because I joined online and couldn't see the audience very well. I heard "outstanding," "beautiful," and "badass" (but all from people I kinda-sorta know). Anyway, I hope it was useful and landed well. 

I spent way too much time prepping the talk--I said as much to Big A this morning while I spent another hour tweaking, tweaking, tweaking... But he said that I should spend all the time I want because it's something that matters a great deal to me. I thought this was the perfect response and philosophy.

Pic: My kids are excited to be... delighted to be... doing some Easter prep. (I don't think anyone would accuse them of spending too much time on prep. 😂)

companion song

desire turning into decision 
at once terrifying, free
I am moved

into the path of turning knives
their rhythms familiar
I am here

afraid of turning the page
my mind un-scrolling

I am opened

like a hinge into the world

I've been here before--

I return once more

_____________________

Pic: Max and Huck, my writing companions, snoozing in the sunshine.

spring forward anyway

We woke up to snow on the ground, but it's Spring in my heart anyway.

Big A wimped out because it was cold and windy, but I took a long walk in the snow anyway.

It's too early to start the garden like I want to, but I started an array of herbs in planters indoors anyway.

Pic: Basil, thyme, rosemary, and mint growing in the solarium upstairs (the blue and red pots). Our quirky old house has lots of inconveniences, but its passive solar design means there's lots of light. I might as well use it for something good.

"to everything there is a season..."

I spend hours every week caring for my plants in our indoor tea garden. It's a narrow space, but since it runs the length of our great room, the greenery and light lift me up every time I pass through. 

But... when I decide to sit in there to actually drink a cup of tea, I find that instead of experiencing calm and enjoying the space as it is, my eyes are darting around to check for errant dirt or for yellowing and browning leaves to pull, and other things to fix or move.

This is silly. It's a garden, there'll always be dead leaves and dirt and things to do. My new exercise is to enjoy the space without worrying about perfecting things. I lit the candle L gave me (lavender and neroli), breathed in the scent of my hyacinths budding, and marveled at the begonias blooming for the sixth year in a row. 

There's gunk on the bird pedestal under the small cachepot... but I'll clean it in the time allotted to cleaning. This is not that time.   

Pic: Tablescape with plants, flowers, and candle.

Five thoughts and things on Friday

1)      If yesterday's post was blessedly whine-free about Gaza, it was because I whined on FB, where I've mostly absented myself since October, instead. And then my people stepped in full of strength and sympathy and support. How can I not believe in the potential of this world when I'm surrounded by so much kindness and love?

   2)     Almost too much love. Just kidding...

  3)     But actually, I was late getting home because a workplace chat went on and on and then late to book club because Big A kept on prolonging our soak-and-chat and late getting home to dinner because there was pre-birthday cake and jollities at book club and then late for a friend's pooja because the dinner I made (couscous salad with almonds, felafel, and a ton of veggies, + the spicy feta dip a book club friend insisted I take home) was amusingly deemed merely "a side" so Big A got some shawarma wraps to top it off. At that point, I decided it would be best just to send my regrets to the pooja people. And so I did.

4)      I also got all the plant care, cleaning, and settling done today so I can take the rest of the weekend off to relax and luxuriate in birthday love and prep for reentry into the work week. 

5)       Pic: A snapshot of my very whiny FB post. Soc med circles are so weird. I bet if this was on Twitter, someone would have told me to STFU already.

Hello, it is me I'm looking for

Today was mostly spent in what my dad would call a "funk." But I'm on my winter break and I'll funk if I want to.

I still managed to renew my Driver's License, arrange catering for a campus event next week, and finalize the speaker series for Women's History Month. 

I feel sad and helpless, and I told Big A that I was going to take my emergency prescription medication, but I didn't (I'm always "saving" it in case I have I bigger crisis). I drank a lot of tea instead, clung to him like a baby monkey, and then rallied to make up and make an amazing dinner (rice with arugula, five-color veggies + beans braised with miso, sesame oil, and nori). 

And then as a reward, I found birthday cards in the mail! They were such a sweet surprise and such a cheery pick-me-up.

Pic: Also immensely cheering, my fuzzy welcome committee. Max and Huck always pop up to say hello as I unlock the back door.

that's what they said...

I love when we're at dinner and random stuff comes up. Hilarious accidental texts, work wins and woes, getting into AP classes, general advice in both generational directions, stories about parents, "do-you-remember-whens," hair compliments, everyone making the same joke about Nu's American Idiot tee at different times, Huck and Max going crazy for samosa wrapper crumbs, everyone finding different ways to warn me not to succumb to AI-generated grief tech to deal with the anniversary of Scout's passing, plans for the week, the barely-contained excitement about my upcoming birthday... 

I love these people so, so much and am so grateful for this life with them.

Pic: A big, squeezy hug at the end of dinner. Nu, Big A, At.

updates

Good:  Big A's test results came back--nothing terrifying to report.
But:     The original symptoms persist. 

*

Good:  My stretch of overwork and late work evenings is mostly over.
But:     This week I scheduled two more late work evenings for March.

*
Good:   Participating in a teach-in panel on Gaza with the college YDSA in mid-March.

But:      Worrying about bothsideism from fellow-panelists.

*
[Pic] 

Good:    Big A, Huck, Max, and me on a post-dinner walk with a fabulous sunset ahead of us.
 But:     Don't look too closely at Big A's left hand. Ha.

some backstory... and a Boss Day

Some backstory to yesterday's poem.

Our grandmothers were first cousins, so Sunil was a distant cousin--although that doesn't matter much in the  Indian context (something that's unclear in the poem, and I should work on it). Our grandmothers were as close as sisters--closer, as they had no sisters and lived in a big joint-family mansion where they had private tutors--so they were together all the time. They were really close--they always talked about how they breastfed each other's babies so their babies would feel like siblings and think of them (their aunts) as mothers too.  

It didn't work out exactly like that. My mother would go to her aunt when she fought with her mom, but later there was some family drama (our grandmothers fell out in their sixties) and mystery (things people won't talk about). Stuff that came out as what Nicole rightly called "mixed things." Nance found the ending surprising--something else I'm working on. I was trying to express how it felt to have someone in my peer group die... like the beginning of the end. As I mentioned in a comment to StephLove, Sunil died of a heart attack, so that feels as though our bodies are going. 

Pic: It's the puppies' Boss Day! Huck and Max got new lick pads and love them. 

(It's not their actual Boss Day, but it was too bewildering for Scout and Huck when we celebrated them individually, so we picked the 18th of the month to celebrate a puppy Boss Day. Max's "smile" cracks me up.)