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O if I were Scotland I would turn my back
Apr. 29th, 2021 11:41 pmThe subject line's from Adrian Mitchell's "After the Third Election of Thatcher," which continues:
This is in the collection Blue Coffee: Poems, 1985 - 1996, which has this opposite the table of contents:
Today's household misadventure was a result of following directions: the recipe said to use a food processor to pulverize ginger in boiling water. Ow. I'm irritated not only at the mess, but by the fact that I'd already experienced this mishap before, when attempting to puree soup. On a less grouchy note, I have used up the aging ginger in the fridge, and there will be ginger-orange jello soon.
The rain let up now and then a few times today. I took breaks from the Scottish show to tug at weeds, thin out mallows, and tie up stems, as one of the "Sky's the Limit" rose bushes has become a rose sprawl. It is also producing red instead of yellow flowers this year.
Also entertaining: the Christmas cactus closest to the cyclamen now has a new bud.
My recent bathtub reading included the October 2001 issue of Sculpture, which included Anne Barclay Morgan's interview of Westen Charles. The installation that interested me most was Retirement. The artist provided some background:
I tossed the magazine into recycling after I was done . . . and then dug it out a day or three later, wanting to reread the description after seeing Patty Seyburn's Ode to John Hinkles, Junior and Senior, which begins:
. . . and climb on my horse and ride away
And if I were Wales I would turn my back
And climb on my horse and ride away . . .
This is in the collection Blue Coffee: Poems, 1985 - 1996, which has this opposite the table of contents:
EDUCATIONAL HEALTH WARNING
None of the work in this or any other of my books is to be used in connection with any examination whatsoever. Reduce the size of classes in State schools to twelve and I might reconsider.
Today's household misadventure was a result of following directions: the recipe said to use a food processor to pulverize ginger in boiling water. Ow. I'm irritated not only at the mess, but by the fact that I'd already experienced this mishap before, when attempting to puree soup. On a less grouchy note, I have used up the aging ginger in the fridge, and there will be ginger-orange jello soon.
The rain let up now and then a few times today. I took breaks from the Scottish show to tug at weeds, thin out mallows, and tie up stems, as one of the "Sky's the Limit" rose bushes has become a rose sprawl. It is also producing red instead of yellow flowers this year.
Also entertaining: the Christmas cactus closest to the cyclamen now has a new bud.
My recent bathtub reading included the October 2001 issue of Sculpture, which included Anne Barclay Morgan's interview of Westen Charles. The installation that interested me most was Retirement. The artist provided some background:
I tossed the magazine into recycling after I was done . . . and then dug it out a day or three later, wanting to reread the description after seeing Patty Seyburn's Ode to John Hinkles, Junior and Senior, which begins:
A man filled the thumb hole of his favorite
bowling ball with his father’s ashes,
then bowled a perfect game.
