"Mayor's affair to be probed"
...is probably not the best headline choice
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Happy Obama Day!
One thing that makes me proud is when my generation's children ask about America's first black president, we can say, “Oh, that was before your time.”
Thursday, January 15, 2009
working on it...
As I have the time (read: when I'm procrastinating and avoiding real work), I'll be fiddling around with my blog layout to make it a little less boring, shifting the column over, maybe even changing the divider. But as I'm hardly fluent in coding, I'll have to keep comparing it to previous incarnations. I might go back to a different old template.“Progress is impossible without change, and those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.”
Friday, December 26, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Spenser: Sonnet 37
What guyle is this, that those her golden tresses
She doth attyre under a net of gold:
and with sly skill so cunningly them dresses
that which is gold or heare may scarse be told?
Is it that mens frayle eyes, which gaze too bold,
she may entangle in that golden snare:
and being caught may craftily enfold
theyr weaker harts, which are not well aware?
Take heed therefore, myne eyes, how ye doe stare
henceforth too rashly on that guilefull net,
in which if ever ye entrapped are,
out of her bands ye by no meanes shall get.
Fondness it were for any being free,
to covet fetters, though they golden bee.
[yes, the spelling etc is accurate.]
She doth attyre under a net of gold:
and with sly skill so cunningly them dresses
that which is gold or heare may scarse be told?
Is it that mens frayle eyes, which gaze too bold,
she may entangle in that golden snare:
and being caught may craftily enfold
theyr weaker harts, which are not well aware?
Take heed therefore, myne eyes, how ye doe stare
henceforth too rashly on that guilefull net,
in which if ever ye entrapped are,
out of her bands ye by no meanes shall get.
Fondness it were for any being free,
to covet fetters, though they golden bee.
[yes, the spelling etc is accurate.]
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
A Middle English lyric
My Lief Is Faren in Londe
My Lief is faren in londe
Allas, why is she so?
And I am so sore bonde
I may nat come her to.
She hath myn herte in holde
Wherever she ride or go
With trewe love a thousand folde.
My Lief is faren in londe
Allas, why is she so?
And I am so sore bonde
I may nat come her to.
She hath myn herte in holde
Wherever she ride or go
With trewe love a thousand folde.
Monday, August 25, 2008
You know how the story goes...
Two brothers bravely went a-hunting
Into the dark green wood.
They wagered for their lady's hand,
To win her if they could.
“I'll slay the noble king of stags,”
The elder boasted loud.
“And when I lay him at her feet,
My lady she'll be proud.”
The younger brother, dark and fell
Had brooded long and hard.
“I'll hunt the fiercest game of all
To win her fair regard.”
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Blackberries Again!
For the second year now, my mother and I went out blackberry picking. We picked 12 pounds this year, between the two of us! Most of them went into the freezer.
The lovely blackberry bushes!
Berries, some not quite ready yet.
My basket: 5.15 pounds. We also filled a 1qt basket as a joint effort.
My mom was ashamed by my fuller basket and hurried to top hers off.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Culinary Musings
Meditation on an onion... or is it a metaphor? You decide.
Always start at recipe with the onion. Onion, in a little bit of oil, until it softens up. This is what I learned from watching my mother cook, all those years.
You have to peel off the outer layers, as they are too tough to cook properly. When you have access to the tender white rings, dice them up. Don't worry if there are some tears.
However, if you keep the onion submerged in water or chilled, only the smallest amount of onion vapor will irritate your tear ducts.
At first the cooking onions smell very sharp. Some people find this offensive, but don't worry. The onions will become more mellow as they continue to cook. Sometimes they also get a bit wrinkled, but this is normal.
When this process is done you may add whatever other ingredients you like and consume them with great enjoyment.
Always start at recipe with the onion. Onion, in a little bit of oil, until it softens up. This is what I learned from watching my mother cook, all those years.
You have to peel off the outer layers, as they are too tough to cook properly. When you have access to the tender white rings, dice them up. Don't worry if there are some tears.
However, if you keep the onion submerged in water or chilled, only the smallest amount of onion vapor will irritate your tear ducts.
At first the cooking onions smell very sharp. Some people find this offensive, but don't worry. The onions will become more mellow as they continue to cook. Sometimes they also get a bit wrinkled, but this is normal.
When this process is done you may add whatever other ingredients you like and consume them with great enjoyment.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Flow
Let it flow: tears flow, blood flows. Love flows too. Words don't flow perfectly; little barbs catch and stick. Don't let them flow too much, either, or they'll flow right off the page, from my head or hand or heart. Can't take them back.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
I Am So Artistic
Well, sometimes I am :)
Actually, it's because every time I start to clean my room, I turn up the beginnings of some project I once had in mind, and then I decide to settle down and do it. So, back in December I'd made one pretty cloth flower and found a good button for it, but had nothing to sew it on-- and into my little tub of scrap fabric and needles and thread it went.
Likewise, I was pretty sure I had some jeans fabric lying around, and remembering the cute purses I've seen made out of old jeans, I reflected that I might try making one, myself.
I discovered two back pockets in my little container, pleased that my vague recollections proved accurate. I had two matching buttons, so I made another flower and, well... one thing led to another!
The two pockets, which I will eventually sew together into a pouch. It might be a good little thing to hang in my closet, filled with a nicely scented sachet. I did some beading on the backside mostly because I found my thin beading needle, and because it's fun.
Actually, it's because every time I start to clean my room, I turn up the beginnings of some project I once had in mind, and then I decide to settle down and do it. So, back in December I'd made one pretty cloth flower and found a good button for it, but had nothing to sew it on-- and into my little tub of scrap fabric and needles and thread it went.
Likewise, I was pretty sure I had some jeans fabric lying around, and remembering the cute purses I've seen made out of old jeans, I reflected that I might try making one, myself.
I discovered two back pockets in my little container, pleased that my vague recollections proved accurate. I had two matching buttons, so I made another flower and, well... one thing led to another!
The two pockets, which I will eventually sew together into a pouch. It might be a good little thing to hang in my closet, filled with a nicely scented sachet. I did some beading on the backside mostly because I found my thin beading needle, and because it's fun.Thursday, July 24, 2008
The Bistro
The Bistro: Coming Soon!
Through blank windows I see
Tables,
Painter's tape.
Tired air.
My day is at an end;
evening sets in, thickly.
Also inside:
a lone woman,
working late but
still for a moment,
musing
on the potential of a dream.
Through blank windows I see
Tables,
Painter's tape.
Tired air.
My day is at an end;
evening sets in, thickly.
Also inside:
a lone woman,
working late but
still for a moment,
musing
on the potential of a dream.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
A Random Pickup Line
(...for nerdy English majors and sympathisers only.)
"Baby, you must be Hamlet, 'cause you look as tasty as a Danish."
"Baby, you must be Hamlet, 'cause you look as tasty as a Danish."
Summertime
"Summertime, when the living is easy..."
The yard is lovely and verdant now... I did miss the greenery in Belfast.
Dad's visiting, and has a nice furry placemat.
My bromeliad finally blossomed... after four years.
Kittens lie around in the sun all day and enjoy the new flooring in the back room.
The garden in blossom!Friday, July 11, 2008
My Neighbors
They sat out on the patio together, a rare early morning sight. They sat in silence, hunched over their plates with characteristic single-minded concentration, chewing with dull satisfaction. They exchanged condiments more than words, and yet there was a bond between them, all the same. An aging couple, enjoying a rare cool summer morning together. Their son, perhaps five years my senior, still lives at home; his father works an overnight shift for a shipping company and the mother’s at the mercy of Walmart’s exploitative hours. Their drive to make money seemed matched only by the size of their cars, not to mention their mission to deforest their yard and disfigure the landscape. And yet, this moment of tenderness, in a morning that was unusually still… almost poetic.
Then the man lifted the bag that had held their breakfast, and the glaring red and yellow McDonald’s logo shattered the moment.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
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