August Book Report: Washington Black

I picked up Washington Black by Esu Edugyan as part of an assortment to be discussed at monthly faculty book club meetings at my school.  It was a book that had been on my list for a while thanks to its inclusion on a bunch of “best of 2018” lists.  I’m so glad that I picked it up because it is a powerful book one I enjoyed.

The book is the story of Washington Black, an 11 year old who is enslaved in Barbados when the story opens.  The author shows us slavery from Wash’s point of view and though it’s not news to experience the profound disempowerment and denial of humanity that the institution of slavery created, it is powerful to experience it in the eyes of a child.  Wash knows who he is and what that means and he is familiar with the expectations in the sugarcane fields where he spends his days.  When he and his mother Kit are unexpectedly asked to serve as house slaves for an evening, sorting out the expectations of this temporary new role fill him with fear about the expectations.  In his uncertainty, the reader sees how precarious life is for the enslaved, who are denied agency even as they are expected to act.  In these scenes of the novel, Wash’s profound disempowerment resonates.

Wash attracts the interest of a kind man, Titch, the brother of the plantation owner.  From that seemingly random connection, Wash’s life will experience profound change.   As Wash escapes slavery and begins to make his way in the 19th century, the reader travels along.  The uncertainty of his status lingers long past Wash’s escape from slavery and Edugyan makes much of that element of his experience.  As the reader comes to feel real affection and anxiety for Wash, Edugyan has the opportunity to ask us into the world of inequality and anxiety that belongs to Wash and people like him.  I found myself thinking about the themes of the novel when I wasn’t reading and and immersed in the story when I was reading.  It was the best of both experiences.

Washington Black deserves its spot on “best of” lists, both for the splendid writing and also for the power of the story.  It’s a book that will linger long past the last page and one I look forward to re-reading time and time again.

Seasonal Change

Though classes won’t begin until next week, back-to-school meetings have started this week.  My regular school schedule has begun, and I wake up at 5:30 in the morning, to give me the quiet morning time I crave in advance of long and busy days.

All summer long. I’ve spent time on the front porch with my book and several cups of coffee to ease me into the day.  This week’s early wake-ups have found me walking downstairs just before 6 am, with the dawn just peaking over the edge of the eastern sky but to yet break the inky darkness of my northern-facing front porch.  It’s been cool on these mornings and I grab a sweater to keep me company as I read.  More than anything else, these dark mornings show me that summer is fading away.

Next week, I’ll check my e-mail in the darkness, still on the porch to embrace the last of the summer season, but aware of the need to make the most of my morning quiet.  The darkness, the work e-mail, and the chill in the air will all combine to remind me that the relaxed pace of summer has faded and been replaced by busy school days.  I like those days, packed with the energy and excitement of middle schoolers eager to learn, but it’s still hard to say goodbye to the ease of the summer.  

Time will pass.  Pumpkins and fall mums will replace the abundant flowers of the summer.  Sweaters will be necessary and my toes will adjust to life inside of shoes.  I’ll look forward to Halloween and then Thanksgiving and with December, the arrival of Winter’s coziness.  Soon enough, Spring and then Summer will be back on the horizon.  I’ll embrace all of it and be glad for the season to come,  as is my way.  

Zinnia Season

My zinnia seeds are bringing me flowers and I picked a few on Sunday.  I added them to some greenery I have on hand and they make me smile every day.

That’s happy!

And So It Begins

This week begins the all-school faculty meetings to ease us into the start of a new school year.  New students will come for a half day on Friday; everyone returns the day after Labor Day. and from there we are off and running. This week is faculty meetings and last-minute preparation; a chance to return to the regular hours of the school year.  I was up with the sunrise this morning.  A new year is always exciting and there is much to look forward to, though I’ll miss today’s opening meeting in exchange for T’s post-surgical appointment.

We’re looking forward to having the cast off and giving her back her left hand.  We’re still celebrating the good news that the excised tumor was benign.  The week will find us looking to return to our familiar habits, T no longer under the haze of serious pain relief and neither of us fretting about a malignant tumor.

This is my second school year with a boy in college; my first start to the year living in the same house as T.  I’m especially looking forward to the daily routines of being together at the end of each day.  At school, I’ve a series of new lessons for my 7th graders and plans for all-school field trips in October.  There is much to look forward to as this year begins and even more for which to be grateful.  

Relieved

T and I spent the week nursing her stitched and casted arm and, as the days passed, nervously awaiting the doctor’s call with the pathology news.  Our expectation was that the removed tumor was benign but confirmation of that confidence was much-desired.  By Thursday, we were nervous whenever her phone beeped.  As Friday closed with no news, we steeled ourselves for a weekend of uncertainty.  Then her phone rang on Saturday and the news was good — all benign.

Saturday was a lovely day, with milder temperatures, lower humidity, and the kind of breeze that suggests fall in the air.  The good news made a lovely day even better.  It felt - it feels - like we can take a deep breath and plan the coming months.  We are relieved and glad, of course, and all the more aware of blessings received.  That's happy, so very happy.

Nervous Energy

Right after we dropped JT off, T had surgery on her left arm to remove an unwelcome lump.  It’s likely to be a benign lipoma, but while we await the pathology report and she recovers from the surgery (complete with a nearly 4 inch incision and a left arm totally casted for the first week of recovery), I have a lot of nervous energy to burn off while I serve as her nurse.

Enter cooking, my traditional task for showing my affection.

I’ve roasted chicken for T.  I baked a tomato pie with garden tomatoes and made zucchini pancakes with local produce.  This afternoon, I’ve stirred together an amazing summer corn chowder recipe that cooks in the crock pot.  We’ll have that for supper alongside some grilled bacon-wrapped shrimp.  Later this afternoon, I’ll bake some brownies.

Tomorrow, I plan to make toasts with chèvre, radish, and scallions, one of those easy combinations that tastes far more amazing than the time that goes into it.  We’ll enjoy it with leftovers from the week and the taste will remind me to stop and enjoy these last days of summer.  

I always enjoy cooking.  Unlike most things in my life, it’s work that usually ends in a finished product, which I suspect is much of the enjoyment I derive from it.   It’s something I can do while T heals and we try not to fret.  It’s my way of showing love and burning off energy.

It’s also delicious and that’s happy!

College Drop Off

Yesterday, T and I unloaded our car into JT’s Sophomore dorm. He did most of the work and consented to letting me make his bed, the sort of thing a mama like me feels happy about.

He’s there for two weeks of pre-season training for Cross Country; classes don’t start until after Labor Day.  It was much easier than last year’s drop off, though of course I burst into tears at the last minute and, unusually, was embarrassed by this development.  I’m a crier and have long ago made my peace with that fact so it’s unusual for me to fear crying in public.  I suppose it’s that I know there is nothing to be sad about.  He’s ready to return, and very excited about the coming Cross Country season, classes, his friends at school….all of it.  He has his routines and this year’s dorm is nicer than last year’s lodgings, with a lovely view over the lake.

We’ll see him at the end of September for a race and the text messages will flow.  I know he is in the right place and I’m so grateful for that blessing.  T and I head south this morning, grateful for a life together.  That’s happy!

Real Life Conversations with JT: Feeding Frenzy edition

The backstory: Having just finished his lunch, a giant sandwich I brought him from a local deli and while raiding my work desk for my emergency chocolate supply, JT wanted to know what’s for supper tonight.

Me: Well, there will be roasted chicken.

JT: Why not just say you are making some kind of summer salad that will never fill me up?

Me:  Perhaps because I’m not?  There will be lemon pasta, chicken, and bread.  Will that do?

JT:  Yes.

While it’s true that I have made my fair share of refreshing summer salads, my primary activity this summer has been to bake endless chicken breasts for a certain bottomless pit.  Notably, often while eating said chicken, he frets that no more food will ever be forthcoming.  This is a nightmare that never materializes.  But the boy is wary nonetheless.

Heartsick

This morning, I heard the news about the ICE raids in Mississippi and was heartsick as I listened to the details.  Workers rounded up with their hands tied behind their backs; ICE agents proud about these actions, as if they are acting within the law and that somehow makes them moral and good.

Rule of law is only valuable when the laws are just.  And, as this NPR story illustrates, raids like this round up hard-working people doing jobs that no one else wants.  Raids like this tear apart families and leave children with no one to care for them.  Raids like this make nothing better for anyone.  We aren't safer after the raids because we were never at risk.

Meanwhile, the large corporations employing the undocumented workers have nothing to say and, worse than that, nothing to fear.  The owners breaking labor laws haven't been arrested and likely won't suffer a single troubling consequence.  Those consequences are reserved for poor, hardworking immigrants struggling to make their lives better. 

There is nothing great or good about this.

We Know Why

We know that the problem here is angry, extremist, racist, disaffected white men with easy access to military-grade assault weapons and ammunition.

We know that the president fosters disaffection and racism for his own political gains. When he says things like “hate has no place in our country” we know that he is the hater-in-chief who stokes this kind of behavior even as the GOP and mainstream media give this vile man a pass.

Do we know that our children are afraid?  Do we know that the rest of the world sees very clearly that we must regulate weapons?  Do we care?  Thoughts and prayers without actions will not save us from ourselves.  Years after Sandy Hook, we still wring our hands and ask why.

We know why.  The only thing we don’t know is why we lack the will to save ourselves.

August Front Porch

As is often the case in August, a few of my plants are looking tired.  I’ve made a mental note to stay away from the New Guinea impatiens.  They are heat tolerant and look beautiful in May and June but by July and August, they are weary and I get less flowers.  I am here for the flowers, so New Guinea impatiens will be voted off the porch for next summer.

The regular old non-fancy impatiens, on the other hand, are bringing it.  They may stay as long as they like.  

The arrival of August is a reminder to get after all my favorite summer treats before September comes and ruins all the fun.  So the popsicle flag is back because popsicles and summer are the perfect combination.  Not coincidentally, there are popsicles in the freezer at Sassafras House.  

The front door wreath is my old favorite.

I sit out here every morning and, as often as possible, in the afternoon as well.  I try to come out here to enjoy summer storms.  August demands that a girl slip in all the summer things she most enjoys and so I am using my time wisely to do just that.  There is still some summer left to enjoy and I plan to do just that.

August 1: Fairy Garden

Keeping up with the weeds has been a bit of challenge in the fairy garden in this past month but even with the abundance of Virginia creeper, this patch of the garden always charms me.

The peach crop was harvested by the squirrels (I didn’t get even one) and the clematis is past its prime, but things remain green and lovely in both the sunlight and the shade.  

I love this yard in all times of the year, but especially the summer.  August’s arrival has me facing the hard fact that summer won’t last forever.  In a few months, the fairies will pack up for the cold weather.  But while they are here, they will make me smile.