I’m finding it hard to believe that Thanksgiving is NEXT WEEK. I’m also struggling with the Christmas decorations everywhere. I’m not ready, people! On that note, does anyone want to put up lights at my house? The dread I’m feeling about this task is immense.
Quote of the week:
This is a stanza from a poem I read this week…
“I shall not lament
the human, not yet.
There is something
more to come, our hearts
a gold mine
not yet plumbed,
an unchartered sea.”
–Dorianne Laux, In Any Event
What I’m reading:
All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr. I know, I know, I’m way late to the party on this one. I’ve had this book on my shelf for YEARS and have just never picked it up. Historical fiction is not typically my genre of choice. Seeing the trailer for the Netflix series was the motivation I needed to read the book. Of course, it’s wonderful. I plan to watch the show as soon as I’m done.
As an antidote to all the heaviness and grief in the world right now, I’m reading a couple poems a day from How to Love the World: Poems of Gratitude and Hope, edited by James Crews. Highly recommend. The poem quoted above is from this book.
What I’m listening to:
Soundings: Journeys in the Company of Whales by Doreen Cunningham. It’s a very interesting memoir about her time spent tracking the northward migration of the grey whales (with her toddler in tow), as well as about her time living with an Iñupiaq family in Alaska seven years earlier.
What I’m watching:
I watched Pain Hustlers on Netflix a few nights ago. One more film about the dark side of pharma sales, this one focusing on a fentanyl medication. Upsetting, but important.
Writing news:
I had a poem published today on Every Writer! It will be included in their year-end issue.
How Ridiculous That I Am
This morning, I fought
with my daughter about
her refusal to take another
bite of vanilla-flavored
Greek yogurt while, a world
away, other mothers fought
for their children to live
another day.
On that small strip
of land, two million people
wait on death row, sentenced
to terror for the crime
of existing. Half of them,
children. So many
children. One killed every
ten minutes, the headline
reads. The post below it—a
joke about the inconvenience
of the end of Daylight Savings.
Dawg it feel like it’s 14pm.
I laugh and then wonder how
such a thing is possible—
how can any human being laugh
now, or ever again?
I am stressed about jury duty
and the Santa Ana winds making
my eyes burn and the dog-sitting
I shouldn’t have agreed to and
the school closure on Veterans Day
when I have to work at my job,
spending hours on Zoom calls
about how to better sell
expensive beauty products
to women who feel inadequate
without them.
How ridiculous that I am
capable of stress when there are
no airstrikes here, no bombs
dropping like meteors from the sky,
when I have food and water
and shelter and the basic
assurance that my daughter
and I will be alive tomorrow.
How ridiculous that I am
capable of brushing my teeth
and taking my vitamins and
bookmarking pad thai recipes
without sobbing about
the chubby baby arms
sticking out of rubble.
How ridiculous that I am,
when so many are not.
Tonight, we will watch
Fancy Nancy and lick popsicles
and I will tell her a bedtime
story about unicorns and
magic and think about
all those children, so many
children, who will never believe
in unicorns or magic
because even if they live,
they’ve seen too much
to believe in anything.
I will let my daughter sleep
with me and she will pull
all the sheets to her side and
I will wake up cold, perturbed.
How ridiculous that I am
anything but overjoyed to
watch her sleeping face,
mouth open, eyelashes fluttering.
How ridiculous that I am
anything less than grateful
for the warmth of her body,
the smell of her hair—fruity
from the detangler spray.
How ridiculous that I am,
when so many are not.
Interesting things I learned this week:
- Iceland is bracing for an unprecedented volcanic eruption about 25 miles outside Reykjavik. Seismologists have recorded thousands of earthquakes in the region in recent days—YIKES
- An average of 380,000 visitors enter New York’s Times Square on foot EACH DAY
- Our current Congress is on track to be the least productive Congress since the Great Depression, with only 21 bills making it into law
- Queen guitarist Brian May is also an astrophysicist and helped NASA land on an asteroid
- 4% of books earn 60% of profits. For more depressing facts about being an author, read here
- The word “Utopia” derives from the Greek roots for “not” and “place,” which means that “Utopia” references a “no place” or nowhere, although it is also a homonym for the word “Eutopia,” which means “good place”
- One 2018 survey from the American website BabyCenter, found that only 4% of children have their mother’s surname
- The 2018 Cigna US Loneliness Index report found that only 53% of Americans had “meaningful in-person” interaction on a daily basis
Weirdest thing I googled this week:
“Turkey gender poop.” I heard that you can tell a turkey’s gender by its poop, which seemed worthy of a google search. What I learned: “One certain way to find out if a turkey is male or female is by checking their droppings. A male’s poop will be shaped like the letter J, while the female’s is more spiral-shaped.” So weird.
What I’m grateful for:
- Celebrating my oldest nephew’s 13th birthday! The cliché is true—time really flies
- Dinner out with a good mom-friend. I rarely get out, so this was special
- A nice, one-day rain storm. I love the rain and my plants are so happy
- A fresh haircut (evidence below)
Snapshots:
Thank you for sharing your poem. It speaks to me.