Morale boost...

31 July 2024: After yesterday's post, today's lunch with Sally and Stephanie to talk about our section of GWST 201 (and about a million other things) was a definite morale booster. Bring it on. 

Morale blow...

30 July 2024: Just when I start to feel like we can turn a corner with faculty morale, I hear of plans from up above that hit like a gut punch. Keeping it vague (and it's nothing dire), but my goodness. Sometimes I just say out loud, "What are they thinking?" 

Three emails...

29 July 2024: Needed to send three long and sort of complicated emails today to get the ball rolling (well, three balls on three different paths). It felt good to sit down and work on each of them (and some other work that was connected to each). It also felt good to check each off of my list and to get some quick and positive feedback on each. And, as is often the case, each was easier to take care of than I thought it would be. 

(Boring, nerdy post, I know, but it's what stood out to me most when thinking about today.) 

The Reformatory

28 July 2024: "Sometimes the dead could help you fly" (565).

The Reformatory took my breath away. The last line, quoted above, made me tear up. The novel is a terrific mix of horror, suspense, historical fiction, and a moving story of familial love. Just amazing. 

Work Cited

Due, Tananarive. The Reformatory. Saga Press, 2023. 

"Hooked on a Feeling"

27 July 2024: Scrolled through my iPod this afternoon while taking a post-lawn-mowing/chores-doing bath. Sang my heart out for those bathroom acoustics. 

Played it a couple more times today, as it seemed the fit the mood of a pretty chill day.

These fleeting summer Fridays...

26 July 2024: Not a bad summer Friday. Spent the morning on campus taking care of some tasks, then came home for a bit before picking up Amy for a movie (Deadpool and Wolverine, which she was so excited about) and dinner for her birthday. Home by 9:30 or so for some chill time with the girls. Lovely, cool(ish) evening with the windows open. Not bad at all. 

Ten years...

25 July 2024: Today marks ten years since Ryan's death. I won't even pretend to have anything particularly new to say, but I am deeply moved by the strange coincidence that today is also the day that my nephew Colin graduates from basic training, something that would have made my brother very proud. 

Quiet Wednesday evening contemplations...

24 July 2024: Thinking this evening about how quiet the house is now that it's back to "normal" with the girls gone. This summer especially, with the book manuscript being finished early, no administrative work, and no incredibly demanding university service has given me more free time than I have had since college. As I've written about, it's been wonderful and strange and, at times, unsettling to have so much time with myself (and only myself) to do with as I please. A single woman with no children and a comfortable income, I have a kind of freedom so many others do not have.

Tonight, I keep thinking about all of this in connection to JD Vance and his thoughts on childless people--particularly childless women. (And, weirdly, those with cats? seriously--there are so many weirdos over on the right, just obsessed with people's private lives.) For Vance, people like me are less important, less valuable because we aren't invested in our country in the same way parents are. Add in his beliefs that professors are the enemy, and boy, do I check all of his boxes as a target of disdain. It's strange to feel those boxes get checked and not feel...sad? 

But the reason I feel sad, at least tonight, isn't because I am disappointed in my own life or my own choices. 

I am sad because people like Vance must not know and love the same God that I do, or must not listen to him very closely. Because my God tells me that everyone should be invested in children and their future and the planet--and everyone includes people outside of the country. 

I don't need to even try to convince Vance or those like him that I do my best to follow the greatest commandment (and fail so often), but that my goodness--my ability to try has nothing to do with whether or not I have children. I also believe that my life and my work has been an investment in children and the country and the world. Of course it has been, or else why do it? But again, I don't need/want to convince him or anyone else of that right now.

What makes me sad tonight is that this weird stance reflects such a depressing hollowness in the heart of so much right-wing ideology. It has to be your blood for you to care. Fight for your blood, your people, your stuff, your guns, your rights. But fighting on behalf of others, including people not like them? They can't even imagine it without derision and suspicion. It's so f*cking sad. 

I am so glad not to live in that world anymore. 

Veronica feels differently...

23 July 2024: Jo had a blast with Krista and Isla. She seemed especially fascinated by Isla, as these pictures show. 

Sweet Frog Meet-Up

22 July 2024: 

[Catch-up post]

Caught some great synergy yesterday as Tara, Jeff, Evan, and their new puppy passed right through Martinsburg on their way to Oklahoma for Colin's graduation from basic training. So Isla, Krista, and I met them at the Sweet Frog just off 81 for a quick visit. Really lovely that it worked out!

It's called "New Romantics"

21 July 2024:

[Catch-up post]

Isla introducing me to her third favorite Taylor Swift song on the first night of her and Krista's visit. We also painted nails, made ice-cream sundaes, and watched silly TV. 

Saturday cleaning...

20 July 2024: Getting things ready for a two-night sleepover visit from Krista and Isla starting tomorrow, which somehow led to unexpected cleaning.

Things I said goodbye to today:

• The old TV I bought when I moved into this house. The HD ports stopped working years and years ago, so basically, it's no good for streaming or any kind of internet TV (which is all I have these days). Took it to the recycling center (and left the recommended $15 fee in the lockbox).
• A bunch of old cords, batteries, and a toner cartridge (again, yay for the recyling center). 
• My elementary school soccer participation plaques, which my dad gave me--along with a box full of other awards and certificates years ago. Everything has stayed right in the box until today. I thought about keeping them for a second, but then realized they don't have my name or even a date on them. And even if they did, they aren't destined for some museum. Sadly, those just went in the trash. Don't believe they are recyclable. 

There's been a decent amount of purging/decluttering this summer, the result of having time on my hands. Not sure how far it will go before the summer's end, but it does feel good. 

Letter from the past...

19 July 2024: At our NWP event in November, my colleague Valerie had us write letters to ourselves that she would send us in the spring. We were prompted to write about ideas for perseverance in our writing and teaching and about (I think?) what we hoped for by the time we opened the envelopes. 

Mine got delivered to me months ago, but I kept waiting to open it, thinking (I think?) that I would do it after I submitted the book. Well, I was on campus today, saw the envelope sitting there, and thought, "What am I waiting for now?" 

It was kind of a quietly moving experience. Things were rough then on just about every level. I ended one paragraph with a simple sentence: "I hope I am happier."

Look, in so many ways (especially globally, politically) things are worse, worse, worse. 

Still, though I am not sure of all the reasons why or the extent or how long it will last, I just knew something when I read those words today: I am happier now.   

Oddity

18 July 2024: Holy cow, did I enjoy the heck out of Oddity. Really well-written and acted, so scary, so smart, and every little bit matters and pays off. Went with Amy who literally screamed at one scare and hit me in the arm at another, both signs of real effectiveness. 

Sweet relief...

17 July 2024: The heat finally broke late this afternoon as a rain storm moved through. Windows open. Back door open. Lovely little breezes moving through the house. Fresh air. Happy cats. Happy me. 

104...

16 July 2024: The highest I saw the temperature go today here was 104. Couldn't bear to look at the heat index temperature. This heat has been just relentless. Even now--after a bit of rain moved through--it's still in the mid 80s at 10:00 p.m. Not a fan of this. Tomorrow is supposed to be a bit better, but still rough. Grateful for AC and the ability to basically stay inside (and get my walk in early). 

Pasta thief...

15 July 2024: Thought I had managed to keep Jo from getting to the leftover spaghetti (tomorrow's lunch) before I ate dinner and then cleaned up the kitchen. First, I kept knocking her off the counter and saying "No!" each time she tried to get some. (And every single time, she meowed back at me, like, "What?") Then, when I was leaving the kitchen to eat, I thought, "let me put the toaster oven pan on top of the colander!" 

Did. Not. Work. 

The trail of pasta strands really cracks me up.

Here's the criminal at play with her single piece of spaghetti. Hard to get a decent picture because she kept flinging it around and is, in general, a moving target. (Look at that tail in the second one!)

A guiding voice...

14 July 2024: Chen Chen is such an important voice for me.

let me move with softness over toughness, gentleness over harshness, openness over assumption, rest over constant production, care over cynicism.

AND let me not use any of the above to be naive or to avoid the necessary risks of speaking out, speaking firmly, speaking clearly.

— 兔兒神 (@chenchenwrites) July 14, 2024

John 14:27

13 July 2024: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." 

Troubled heart tonight as dark news plays across the TV, but praying, praying, praying for peace.

Back at the Boxcars...

12 July 2024: After all this oppressive heat, today was a perfect evening at the ballpark (except for the final score). Even got a great fireworks show after!

"mystically terrible" and "mystically beautiful"

11 July 2024: This morning on my walk, I was passing the nursing home nearby just as two women wheeled out at stretcher with a resident who had passed away (he or she was in a body bag). It was so quiet and unremarkable, I almost couldn't believe it and kept turning my head back. 

At that moment, I was also listening to this wonderful episode of Wiser Than Me, with Julia talking to Patti Smith. It was precisely when they were talking about losing someone you loved--how you keep them with you and keep that connection going. Both talked about bursting into hysterical laughter when gathered with their living siblings and standing in the room with a sibling who had passed away. 

All of it made me think of Ryan and the moments Erin, Christian, Tara, and I spent with him before his wake. (Jeff, Jennifer, and Eric were there, too.) We didn't laugh then--it was just too sad to see him that way--but we sure laughed at other moments during those long, "mystically terrible," and "mystically beautiful" days. (Patti Smith uses both of those phrases to describe those moments in her own life.) We are getting close to ten years since his death and more and more, I try to put laughter first in my memories of him. 

I wonder who will mourn the soul whose body I saw taken out this morning. I pray there will be laughter and peace alongside the pain and sadness.

We love an adverb...

10 July 2024: My book's editor reached out today with two minor questions about the manuscript. As he signed off, he added that he was "truly enjoying" reading it so far. Been quietly living on that adverb--"truly"--since I read it. You don't add that in if you are just being nice, right? 

"The Middle"

9 July 2024: Heard this one on the short drive to trivia today and got excited. It's such a fun banger with a sweet message. 

"It just would have gotten worse and worse..."

8 July 2024: Had a visit from my wonderful go-to plumbers (Ron and Russ) today. I joked that that something Ron--this post's title--is among my favorite things to hear from a repairman. So validating! I am glad I listened to the one-two bunch of my gut and my anxiety brain and gave them a call. (Nothing major--just an issue with the downstairs toilet.) 

"...whose sense of compassion are you appealing to?"

7 July 2024: "Camp is a mystical gender practice of being able to...hmm...maintain self-esteem, even in the face of severe policing and judgment. That isn't something that makes sense, you know? Like so many of the things I do don't make sense, like people are like, 'Why are you so compassionate, like it doesn't make sense when people aren't going to meet you with compassion.'" And like, whose sense are you appealing to?" --ALOK on this week's episode (#109) of Vibe Check in one of those moments I love--when a podcast just stops me in my tracks. 

Day in Rockville

6 July 2024: Spent almost all day today just hanging out with Tim, Kevin, Hannah, and Cory in Rockville. You know you are among good friends when just talking, playing dumb games, and laughing makes eight hours fly by before you know it. 

Maxxxine

5 July 2024: The third movie in Ti West's trilogy was a lot of fun. Maybe a tiny bit slow and a bit preposterous at the end (ridiculous critique of a movie like this), but we had a great time.  

Shepherdstown parade!

4 July 2024: Another year, another pure Shepherdstown parade!

"Olga"

3 July 2024: “That summer she was elected to carry the flag of the United States in the opening ceremonies. The American Olympic Committee tried to strip her of the honor—they didn’t like her outspoken opposition to the Vietnam War—but her teammates weren’t having any of it. The Soviet flagbearer walked the track carrying his flag in one hand, a show of strength in more ways than one. So, Olga did the same thing. She would say it was the proudest moment of her life.” 

Listened to this episode of The Memory Palace this morning and found so much of it memorable and moving. But the passage above really got to me; our current political moment is almost unbelievable, but Olga's story just makes clear why this current turmoil matters. We've got to get it right to be the nation that people like Olga devoted their adult lives to, even (especially!) when it is hard. We just have to. 

"without tenderness..."

2 July 2024: Saw this tweet earlier today and it made me choke up. So much turmoil right now, but this strikes me as at least part of the answer. 

without tenderness, we are in hell

—Adrienne Rich

— 兔兒神 (@chenchenwrites) July 2, 2024

Boot Camp Birthday

1 July 2024: Thinking about Colin, whose birthday is today. I have no idea what a birthday is like when you are in boot camp, but I hope he gets at least a moment for some fun and celebrating. Hard to believe Little Man is in the army now.