[Subject line from May Sarton's All Souls (1957)
My mother would have been seventy years old today. When I was a very small girl, she used to wear this cloak:
At some point, it was banished to the back or the bottom of my bedroom closet, perhaps for being too impractical or unfashionable. There may have been a matching skirt that I gave away when she died.
Memory plays tricks on us -- all these years, I'd misremembered the cloak as something she'd made (probably because she made a skirt and shawl set for me with similar fabric); I don't recognize the manufacturer, but it was probably something she purchased either in Taiwan or Minnesota.
Anyhow, I wore it the day before Thanksgiving, to a brunch with my in-laws, and finally admitted to myself that the cloak was too tight around my neck and the material too scratchy.
But it's just as well that I didn't have time to shlep it to Goodwill until three days ago, because I'd completely forgotten about it having a hood, which I unearthed early last week from a bin with other things I haven't yet revisited. Reuniting the hood with the cloak one last time -- slipping the little buttons through the thin little loops -- felt both right and awkward.This entry was originally posted at http://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/70834.html.
This handsome little guy popped out of the leaves I was shoving about while taking an axe to some of the weed-trees that had sprung up near our garage. I lured the dog back inside before getting back to work, as I wasn't keen on the idea of cleaning up frog-bits if she got around to noticing him. (She was out there long enough to snuffle in a fair amount of dirt, which resulted in the usual dog-sounding-like-she's-on-the-verge-of-a
n-asthma-attack distress later in the evening. Daft beast.)
It's spitting down cold rain, and the The Sound of Music
live thingie should be on the tube in a few (aka acres of work be damned, AUDRA MCDONALD Y'ALL), so I wasn't planning to go out anyway. Having to clean up the bathtub with a Dustbuster merely verily'd the yay of this plan. I did rush around earlier to deal with deposits, recycling, restocking, and other mayhem, and the stops at the Nashville Farmer's Market. Wild & Local was out of oysters, but I also stopped at Shreeji's, where I was amused at the packets of "Chilly Powder" and picked up a tub of labneh
(which was so, so good with the leftover chicken molé and kale...).
Those are some beautifully lit nuns on the screen. (Hmm, that needs to be rephrased. But time to watch and listen...)This entry was originally posted at http://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/70617.html.
- Location:the BYM's study
- Music:Carrie Underwood singing "My Favorite Things"
Today's lunch-prep discovery was that defrosted overly garlicky hummus has the texture of couscous prepared with barely enough broth. Fortunately, the sour cream in the fridge was a viable addition.
I am trying a pinch of mace with the combination, which I'm eating with kale and a sweet potato. It's not a great combination, but neither is it unpleasant.
It is 73 F here in Nashville right now. Work and holiday schtuffs are calling, calling, calling, but I am first going to transplant some hollyhocks and a Christmas pepper plant into larger pots, and patch some bits of the front walk while the going's good. (I'd flirted with the idea of giving pepper plants as gifts this year, but only one of the fifteen seeds made it past the seedling stage. Which reminds me that I need to make garlic-pepper-soap spray before I get deep into the next round of experiments.)
The Kentucky Colonel mint keeps poking out of the mulch I'd put down to protect it. The Bowie apple mint is mostly gray and brown in its pot, but there are tiny clusters of new green leaves on the surface of the soil.This entry was originally posted at http://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/70206.html.
- Music:Maureen McGovern and Susan Anton, 1985 Tony Awards
Yesterday, it seemed like most of Nashville was captivated by the snow coming down. Two of the major winter sports here are (1) freaking out about the least little hint of snow and (2) making fun of (1). From the meteorology maven on my Twitter timeline:
Anyway, there was enough accumulation for the dog to leave multiple sets of tracks on the deck from her comings and goings. This morning, though, this was the view from my kitchen door:
In short, all that was left was icing on the mudcake:
(A slightly longer version: I was trying to figure out where to plant a hydrangea the BYM had received while he was in the hospital. Apparently gift hydrangeas are best regarded as a potted variety of cut flower, but I'm kind of stubborn [pauses to allow the peanut gallery its collective guffaw], so I was casting about our yard for somewhere with the part-shade, part-sun conditions hydrangeas reportedly thrive in. The middle of our yard is a mess [a legacy of -- well, that's an even longer story for some other time], and for some reason there has been a shallow, wide pot the size of a spare tire among the rocks and weeds. Last week I flipped it upside down to see if the ground underneath it might be planting-ready [though then the BYM vetoed putting the bush in the center of the yard]. Hence the big mud-cake.)This entry was originally posted at http://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/69503.html.
as I read this paragraph from an inventory of Mary Roberts Rinehart's papers
Notable items in the series include a long pair of scissors and a small jar of straight pins. A note with the scissors indicates that Mary Roberts Rinehart often edited her manuscripts by cutting up pages and pinning sections of text together in a different order. Evidence of this practice can be seen in some manuscripts in the Manuscripts and Notes series.
This entry was originally posted at http://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/69339.html.
It's a wonderful world, y'all. A bloke in Cardiff, Othniel Smith
, found Nic Sebastian
's reading of "Playing Duets with Heisenberg's Ghost" at the Poetry Storehouse
and was moved to make a videopoem of it:
"Playing Duets with Heisenberg’s Ghost" by Peg Duthie from OTHNIEL SMITH on Vimeo.
(Amplifying the pleasure: hearing about the video not only from Nic but from Rachel, whose d'var Torah on wrestling with angels
has me thinking about how "face" and "facet" are only one letter apart; Sarah Sloat's poems at the Storehouse
, which I will want to spend more time with later; and the cheap but nonetheless distinct thrill of seeing that if one Googles "Heisenberg's ghost" or "Heisenberg duets," the above video shows up first. [insert joke about Schrodingerian search results...])
In other news, the BYM's biking bestie brought breakfast to our house yesterday and (in celebration) I showed her all the spent enoxaparin syringes I'd collected in the box another friend had sent chocolates in. (Long story short: the BYM underwent surgery twice last month, which [among other things] necessitated thirty-nine anticoagulant shots, which neither he nor I ever got used to administering; the process was just as awful on day 39 as it was on day 1, especially since he had no padding on him to begin with and has since lost 10-15 pounds.) I mentioned that I had a couple of art projects in mind; the BYM furrowed his brow and made a squinchy face at me, but the bestie's face lit up, and she said, "If you don't end up doing something with them, I will." Have I said lately how much my friends delight me? :-)This entry was originally posted at http://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/68991.html.
Posner spends significant firepower assailing The Bluebook: A Uniform System of Citation. This compendium (The Chicago Manual of Style for lawyers) might seem an unworthy target. Yet he is excoriating not just the Bluebook, but also the substitution of style over substance it represents. When created in 1926, supposedly by the great appellate judge Henry Friendly, the manual was 26 pages. A recent edition spans 511 pages. Posner appears to believe that following the Bluebook is about as bad as rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic -- and by reverse order of manufacture, no less. He casts the Bluebook as a neurotic reaction to external complexity; if you cannot control what is important, you make important what you can control. Posner notes that Friendly himself recommended that later editions be treated as the Greeks treated their unwanted progeny.
Beneath the great seal of the United States, Posner's chambers should have a crest of a mongoose, encircled with Kipling's dictum: "Run and Find Out."
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/11/10/books/review/richard-a-posners-reflections-on-judging.htmlThis entry was originally posted at http://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/68663.html.
[Posner's statement re an opinion he wrote on voter ID] has been interpreted as a recantation, yet it's less an admission of error than an admission of uncertainty. This is consistent with his general approach: to acknowledge complexity, vacuum up as many facts as possible and then do his best.
I've neglected the arugula since the ides of September, except to harvest what I thought each time were the last of the leaves -- tiny, feathery little kicks of fresh, peppery bitterness.
And yet new leaves keep poking out of the tired, graying pockets of soil.This entry was originally posted at http://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/68511.html.