Miles to go before I can leave the office (to work still more at home), and I just said "no" to something in August... but seriously, the caffeine's starting to kick in (and it's only my first cup of coffee of the day), the work is interesting, and cool stuff aboundeth:

It's sunny and 68 F right now, and I got to scoot outside and enjoy some of it (ran errands when someone else needed my desk for an hour, and not even getting stuck in post office traffic could harsh that glow).

Plus, "Hurts So Good" on the car stereo and catnaps in the parking lot...

Errands done! We are no longer low on detergent, beer, or pears.

Microwave-in-the-package vegetables. Eating healthy-like away from home has never been so easy.

Came across a picture book called On Sukkot and Simchat Torah at the library. Text by Cathy Goldberg Fishman, illustrations by Melanie Hall (Kar-Ben 2006). It's pretty! (Too many series books aren't.)

My grandmother says that, if you put together the very last letter and the very first letter of the Torah, it makes the Hebrew word "lev" meaning, "heart".

[Punctuation = what's in the text.]

I can't quite get over the fact there's a picture book on Simchat Torah, and that my public library has it! *am inordinately thrilled about this*

Also at the library: Falling for Rapunzel. Text by Leah Wilcox, illustrations by Lydia Monks (Putnam 2003). This is a hoot: "Once upon a bad hair day / a prince rode up Rapunzel's way..." She keeps mishearing his request for her to let him in, and the twists leading up to the happy ending are delightful.

One more from the library: A Green Horn Blowing. Text by David F. Birchman, illustrations by Thomas B. Allen (Lothrop, Lee and Shepard 1997). Gorgeous illustrations. A boy who wants to learn how to play trumpet learns the basics from a migrant worker, using a "trombolia" squash:

It took me almost a week to coax my first sound out of that trombolia. Fortunately, John Potts was a patient man. "All it takes to play a horn," he said again and again, "is a whole lifetime."

What Helen Radice said:

As I've argued before, you have to make music matter enough for people to decide to invest in it, not expect it to pay. If you want a classical CD, you have to fund it, just as if you want a music lesson, or a nice harp. If you are poor, hopefully a civilised society that cares about the arts has sponsorship opportunities for you, but the need for money remains.

To make people care about any music, recorded or otherwise, you have to communicate - in concert, on disc, in books and magazines, through education and by what you create in the first place. You have to reach out to others. It never ceases to amaze me how many so-called artists think their self-interest self-expression is the only thing that counts, but music (to me) is too widely human, too gloriously infinite. Just as someone who only talks about themselves is a crushing bore, all creative endeavours that are only masturbatory acts of self-love fail. Some initial charisma might carry the artist for a while, but there is no lyricism, no tenderness, no angry drive to make things better for others, no love: only an arid and deluded pride that ultimately burns itself away, for it has no other fuel.

Applies to writing, too, and getting paid for it.

From what Helen wrote earlier:

As with anything where you must deeply think and feel, the more you know, the more you know how little you know.

And, in a post I revisit from time to time, she quotes Sarah Bullen: "you can get better and learn, or get bitter and decline. The choice is yours."

---

Today's French phrase: c'est la fin des haricots

Deak: "That's the limit! can you beat that!"
Harrap's: "the bloody limit!"
[haricot literally means "bean"]

More from Harrap's:

des haricots! = "not a sausage!"
courir sur le haricot à quelqu'un = "to pester someone"
[literal translation: "to run on [with?] the bean to someone"]

Mrrrr. I need another obsession hobby like a fish needs a flamethrower, but there's a part of me that's actively itching to sit down with my Harrap's, get a grip on all the damned prepositions and pronouns, and then translate a slew of French pop songs into (1) colloquial English and/or (2) singable English. And then to put in enough time at the piano so that accompanying myself on a Cabrel or Goldman ballad (for, say, a UU coffeehouse) wouldn't be just a pipe dream.

( Plus ca change, toujours pas de temps )

---

During the 1990s, a number of French musicians volunteered for a series of CDs on behalf of Sol en Si, an organization assisting children with AIDS. Last month, I decided to treat myself to Vol. 4 after finding out it contained a French-language version of "Girl of the North Country" (with Francis Cabrel, Jean-Jacques Goldman, and Zazie on vocals).

The CD finally arrived yesterday, and "Fille du Nord" is lovely, but the track I've replayed most often has been Maxime Le Forestier's cover of Goldman's "Quand tu danses." I've also been listening to Goldman's version via YouTube. (English lyrics can be found here. If you like Carla Bruni's "Quelqu'un m'a dit," you're likely to enjoy these.)

( How this relates to instinct and fruitbats )

This post was also going to enumerate what I enjoyed about church this morning and other blessings, but I've lingered too long on this topic as it is, and I need to devote what's left of the night to billable work (plus supper). I spent a good chunk of the afternoon in my kitchen, boiling chicken (for stock and salads), baking chess pie and rosemary shortbread, and tackling other chores, all with the door wide open and the CD player blaring blues and zydeco. Here, it's spring, and today was one of those perfect days -- daffodils outside the church, a breeze with a bite to it (I like that, days like this), and the sunshine pouring down.

I'd made two pans of the shortbread yesterday for a gift; that particular batch turned out so well that the BYM made a point of saying so. There had been only been a few pieces left over for us (all gone by breakfast), so I decided to bake another pan of it once I got home.

This one? It's okay, though not as good as yesterday's. I ended up having to add milk after mismeasuring the flour, which is the sort of thing that happens when one ends up dancing to "Eunice Two Step" instead of counting. :-)

Francis Cabrel's going to be at New Orleans Jazz Fest this year!

...on a weekend I can't leave Nashville, because I'll be singing in a concert.

*headpiano*

That said, Loreena McKennitt's playing at the Ryman that same weekend. I haven't been as into her work as I used to be, but I've a lot of memories tangled with The Mask and the Mirror and wouldn't mind newer ones to go with those songs.

Not really distraught, IOW, especially considering I often don't end up even seeing the artists at such fests, what with the crowds and all. (I heard Koko Taylor and John Lee Hooker in Chicago back in '91, but could I see them? Hell, no.)

Also, the chamber concert's going to rule.

And, perhaps Cabrel will schedule some other stops in North America as long as he's over here? And if not, well, I've got other reasons to visit NOLA when I'm less squeezed. *blows kisses at Saz and Erac*

Via marymary: Erin Noteboom's "Deep calls to deep at the noise of thy waterfalls". Wow.

Yaki manu (dumplings with sesame soy sauce) and chapjae (clear noodles with beef and veggies) at Manna.

This video of Francis Cabrel performing "Je sais que tu danses." I've owned the studio recording of this song for years, but there's an intensity to this rendition that really locks the song for me.

"Rockollection" -- why have I not known about this song before now? It is so much fun. I've been replaying the Enfoires 2001 version as I work (I can't get enough of David Hallyday's solo in "Tous les cris les SOS") and YouTube also has three other variations (Vanessa Paradis, Nouvelle Star, and Voulzy himself -- search on "Rockollection").

Bear's chatroom transcripts slay me. This one includes this jewel from katallen: "writers -- different because our subconsciouses can be bothered to hate us that much."

There was more I meant to mention, but I can't remember where in my conscious I stashed it. That, and a story needs revising, a sermon needs drafting, and an essay needs finishing. Onwards...

Ah, YouTube, you siren!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EhXsJjVdj1E
Neil Patrick Harris and Jason Segel singing part of "The Confrontation" scene from Les Miserable while on a talk show. What makes this awesome is that even though it's performed as a joke, the two guys are so into it it is intense. *swoon*

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q6ndRLLGQJc
UK concert version of "The Confrontation" with Chinese subtitles.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xm5QhtBMnBg
US tour version of "The Confrontation"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4MbsyOC8u6g
"Stars" in German. Christian Muller as Javert. (And because I'm a dork, I immediately thought, "Oooh, if I were playing a Regulus...")

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RIkbcXWoUBA
"Javert's Suicide" in German.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UPj6wl5bf6A
Japanese anniversary concert version of "Do You Hear the People Sing?"

Was up too late and up too early (in relation to the too-lateness, that is), and there was a rejection for two poems in my in-box when I opened it. And I don’t have enough left in the mental tank to get any new submissions out the door before midnight.

On the other hand, I’m not sick yet, my beta-reader remains awesome, and there are other good things as well:

Receiving my copy and payment for On Our Way to Battle. (Thanks, samhenderson!)

The Library of Congress online card catalog and Amazon's look-inside-the-book feature. Vetting citations has never been easier...

The NYT’s article on Robert Fagles and his new translation of the Aeneid, and also that I noticed it because it happened to be #2 on the most-emailed list.

Songs from the Labyrinth is still delighting me during my commute and coffee breaks. It’s been reminding me both that Dowland is a hell of a songwriter and that Sting has that x-factor that separates okay musicians from those who have the knack of knowing when and how to bite off a phrase just so or stretchhh it out a second longer (I’m captivated by how he sings the word "eyes" two different ways in "Clear or cloudy" -- a very small detail, but it makes the performance for me.)

I don’t happen to possess that x-factor when it comes to music or calligraphy – I’m okay at them on my good days, but I’m never going to be great at either. And it’s not nearly present enough during most of my efforts at writing, either -- but I have been gifted with a measure of it there, and when it does kick in, oh is that a good feeling. When instinct and training and practice manage to intersect such that I know I’ve locked the right words into the right order to make the reader laugh or gasp or suck in their breath in recognition – in those moments, I am myself most alive.

The sooner I get through my current deadlines, the sooner I can get back to leaving saucers out for the prowling half-truths and stinging rhythms (pace Viereck). Onwards, then.

There are tasks, inevitably, and here on this farm, at least, too many to be filled in one day. Some tasks are seemingly straightforward. Wash the kitchen floor. Shovel the barn floor. Others are less so. While washing the kitchen floor remind yourself to be more consistent in keeping shoes off in that room and better at mopping spills when they happen. When shoveling the barn concentrate on what being a shepherd really means. To find some joy in the appointed tasks is another requirement. For without joy, what is the point? That is a more difficult thing to do. And that is one of the things that define us to ourselves.

- Sylvia Jorrin, "This is a Day"

Right, then. Lists...
( To do... )

Slightly vexing things:
* Gouged my heel on a nail
* Car sounds worse than before its stint at the shop

Splendid things:
* Says You now airing Saturday afternoons.
* Pomegranates on sale (*nods to qrssama)
* Sting's new album of John Dowland songs and letter excerpts. I've been playing "Have You Seen the Bright Lily Grow" (by Robert Johnson -- the one non-Dowland piece on the CD) over and over - so, so pretty! Also, I normally loathe "Can She Excuse My Wrongs," but Sting's arrangement is interesting enough (and he has that lovely decadent tinge to his voice) that I won't automatically hit "skip" next time I run the whole playlist. And the liner notes/design is also well-done.
* Earrings from orbitalmechanic. They're perfect. Thank you, my dear.
* The painting almost_clara surprised me with yesterday. It's inspired by a series of drabbles I wrote related to "Dover Beach," and it's stunning.
* Random notes and cards from friends.
* Sun's out. It's going to be a brilliant day.