Author: Holly

[Not Endorsed by the Constitution of the United States of America]

It’s my body
It’s not Pepsi’s body
It’s not Nancy Reagan’s body
It’s not Congress’s body
It’s not the Supreme Court’s body
It’s not Cosmopolitan’s pink twat body
It’s not George Bush’s ugly-conscience,
never-be-responsible, let-the-world-rot body
It’s not Cardinal O’Connor’s Catholic Church-
homophobic-hate women-hate queers-
oppressive-DEVIL-SATAN-no children body
IT’S NOT YOUR BODY

Karen Finley, “Aunt Mandy,” 1990 in Aperture [pdf, cw: death, medical trauma, misogyny, doom]

I ran across that poem while reshelving periodicals in college, and never forgot it. A woman’s life isn’t worth much often pops into my head as an explanation for this or that.

In “things I was thinking about before the giant news hairball,” I believe we are in a golden age of podcasts. My favorite this week was a Harriet the Spy episode on Not How I Remember It, a podcast whose tagline is “GenX moms revisiting the books of our childhood.” It’s two friends who reread a book that at least one of them remembers (The Pistachio Prescription was the episode that first caught my eye), and talk about it from scratch. From this episode:

  • “I feel like she wasn’t so much spying as judging.”
  • “All the pictures in my copy are a little terrifying.”

I love their east coast (I think) accents and how much fun they have and the way they don’t try to impress anyone or be experts.  And often the book they reread is not the book they remember! The most prominent memory of Harriet the Spy for one of them was the bits about reading under the covers with a flashlight.

I pulled some weeds in the garden and found these secret overachievers. About a year ago, I planted a few fava beans from the fridge that were past their prime. They grew and bloomed but then fell over and I forgot about them. This is about double the volume of beans planted, so I am well pleased.8 fava bean pods, some large, with US quarter for scale

Anxiety usually lies

Sang and I drove up to Tahoma National Cemetery in Kent, Washington this week to attend my uncle’s funeral. I poured a lot of emotion and anxiety into this ahead of time for various reasons large and small, nebulous and concrete– or maybe mostly because of my temperament. But it was good. I like my family. I wrote it all up for my immediate family who couldn’t be there. Here I’ll just say in case readers have a worried brain like mine:

When you attend a service at the national cemetery, you are not told a site number and then have to wander around the hopelessly large grounds and winding roads in your dress-up shoes until you find your people and are probably late!

(A parking lot is not involved. You check in just inside the cemetery entrance and line up with the other cars going to the same service you are. A few minutes after the scheduled time someone in a golf cart gets in front and leads you all to where the service will be, an outdoor shelter in our case. The staff there know how to set the tone and can pivot from directing parking, to joking gently with people to get them herded to the shelter and seated, to conducting a solemn service. So skilled.)

52

I decided not to do anything in particular for my birthday, because there have been many family and social events with a few more coming up, and it’s the busy season at work– keeping one day unequivocally clear with nothing on the calendar seemed like a really nice thing to do. Plus it’s still a pandemic, plus unlike much of the rest of the country, my area is spending the weekend under an “atmospheric river” with impressively heavy rains.

(Terms I never heard until a few years ago: Super Moon, Atmospheric River, Heat Dome. Have any faded away? Maybe Pineapple Express?)

Turns out, “What are you doing for your birthday?” is the question that everyone asks! (Because they care, and I appreciate it, I hasten to add.) I should have pinned down a more graceful way to explain– it’s not that I want to do nothing, necessarily, it’s that I want to decide hour by hour, spur of the moment, which necessarily cuts out tickets and plans and travel.

Anyway, I had a good birthday and feel very loved. One of the spur-of-the-moment projects was rearranging the bookshelves so the sheet music is within reach of the piano, instead of high overhead. Not something that would be a birthday plan, but satisfying. There is a large stack of surplus music which will need a supplemental shelf, because sheet music is something that never seems to get weeded or gotten rid of, right? I still have some with my mom’s and aunt’s names on it from when they were kids, stuff like this:

cover of novelty sheet music Chickery Chick, with 1940s style illustration and lettering

In the evening Sanguinity and I watched To All the Boys: Always and Forever, but we conked out early and have about 45 minutes left, and are puzzled about how they will be filled? I mean, Lara Jean’s clearly going to go to [redacted] and it will or won’t work out, but we won’t find out by the end of the movie, so…? There was lengthy and loving coverage of the senior trip to New York City (Lara Jean lives in Portland but you wouldn’t know it, idk maybe it’s Lake Oswego or something). I did get to go to New York in high school for a music thing, but this “senior trip” phenomenon, does that really happen? seems expensive! Then again, costs and financial aid are never discussed in Lara Jean’s college plans.

Also around: hummingbirds, dal from our new hand-me-down Instant Pot, Sang fending off the invasive geranium that’s taking over the yard, listening to audiobooks of Megan Whalen Turner’s Queen’s Thief series.

Reading Wednesday

It’s the time of year when I pore over the log of books I’ve read since last January. I will definitely be adding to my cumulative list of favorites:

red cover with gold seal and lettering: The Year of the Dog

The Year of the Dog, an autobiographical novel by Grace Lin (2006), and by extension its sequels The Year of the Rat (2007) and Dumpling Days (2012). The author is within a few years of my age, and it really brought back the feel of a 1970s childhood in a mostly-white town. (With a perspective outside the white-kid one I had.)

One of the lovely things about this series is that the main character and her best friend are based on the author and real-life friend Alvina Ling, now an editor of kids’ books! They are still friends and even have a podcast together where they catch up on each other’s lives and talk about current topics in kidlit. I like to have it on while I’m doing routine work stuff– a very satisfying parasocial relationship.

I also read a couple of Grace Lin’s picture books this year, including one with a Year of the Dog connection that I won’t spoil, but haven’t yet read Where the Mountain Meets the Moon and its sequels. I’d like to do that in 2022.

Friday Five on Sunday

1. What is your favorite carnival ride?

I’ve never been on a carnival ride I didn’t like, except for the sad time I accidentally chose a carousel horse that didn’t go up and down. For a favorite ride, I’d pick something swooping that also gives a good visual of the carnival for bright nostalgic feelings– like the swings that circle and get more horizontal as they go faster, or the octopus ride.

2. What is your favorite thing to do outside?

Weather permitting, play in a river deep enough to float in but shallow enough to get my feet under me, on a hot sunny day. Birdwatching and looking at trees, clouds (if any), and rocks are also an important part of this experience. Ideally includes reading and napping on the bank between dips.

3. What is your favorite household chore?

The best part of laundry is snapping and folding the clean pillowcases.
The best part of doing dishes is washing plates.
The best part of sweeping is the porch steps.

4. What is something that you always have with you?

My glasses.

5. If you could visit any single city in the world (that you have not visited before), where would you go?

Tokyo! I am fully expecting overwhelm and perhaps liking another Japanese city or town better once I’ve been there. But Tokyo is likely to be where I succeed at a basic human interaction, train trip, or convenience store purchase in Japan, and that will be heady indeed.

questions from Dreamwidth

vacation photos!

I recommend Deluxe Yurt #17 at Umpqua Lighthouse State Park. The picnic table overlooks a small lake.

Looking over a woman's shoulder at a fence and, beyond it, a forested lake.

The foghorn at the lighthouse up the road sounds every 30 seconds or so. “Deluxe” means there is a bathroom! with a shower! and fridge and microwave and dvd player and also a little electric “barbecue” on the porch that dings like a toaster oven. As always, I seriously wondered by the time we left for vacation whether all the packing and arrangements were worth it: there’s something about bringing all your own bedding and kitchen gear that is just a LOT. But as always, I concluded afterward, yes, worth it.

A large banana slug on a background of grass and evergreen needles, with a key alongside for scale. The slug is about twice as long as the key.
In addition to this friend, we saw pelicans, sea lions, and many many Steller’s jays.
Boulder on a sand beach, covered in a network of holes to make a honeycomb like pattern.
And rocks.
  • Small beach with forested bluffs on either side, and surf.
    the admiring beach
  • Overcast sky and gradually sloped, calm sea good for swimming, protected by forested points.
    the swimming beach

My vacation reading was David Yoon’s Version Zero, which started out great and held my attention but disappointed by the end, and Robin Stevens’ A Spoonful of Murder— the Wells & Wong mystery I’d been saving, which did not disappoint. When I got home I had an urge to reread Betsy’s Wedding, and got it from the library. I prioritize these rereading cravings like they’re some kind of nutrient deficiency. All better now.

will there be a cover crop

Four-poster bed frame sitting on a lawn, partially filled with dirt/compost.

Trying to shift my schedule a little earlier and go for a walk in the morning. Yesterday: a real garden bed. Sang gently tried turning the bed knobs, just in case, but no go.

Today’s walk was rainy; I listened to Detransition, Baby. Although they’re not the main attraction, there are slapstick moments that slay me. I’m going to listen to more tonight while I cook lunches for the week.

at the walgreens

Yesterday morning I got my first Covid-19 vaccine dose at the local Walgreens. The setup was not a well-oiled machine like the mass vaccination site as described by sanguinity; it was the regular Walgreens pharmacy experience with a few extra folding chairs at the ends of the aisles. After my shot there was no 15-minute holding pen– I was told to walk around the store for 15 minutes before taking off. I read terrible greeting cards and bought some leftover peeps at 50% off. I’ve had no side effects except a sore arm like I get after a flu shot. It’s all very ordinary for being so extraordinary.