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Today's subject line is from Alison Luterman's Staccato (TW: anxiety/depression denialism).
Other poems sharing the living room in my head with various Audens:
The Lie
A Litany in Time of Plague
I had the good fortune of meeting calligrapher Margaret Shepherd some years ago in Boston, on a tour of her marvelous plaques and name-strips at First Church. She has been posting downloadable A-Z coloring pages at her blog, which some of you might find a lovely diversion.
Until Thursday, I'd been turning on my high beams during the last minute of my commute home, because the streetlamps were out. Thursday may have been the first day Holly Street was clear enough to turn on. Seeing the damage there hammered home yet again how very lucky the BYM and I are to be dealing only with uprooted trees and a trashed fence.
My original plans for spring break had included dancing, paddleboarding, kayaking, and connecting with old and new beloveds across North Carolina, plus some time dedicated to reading and correspondence (both of the activist and family+friends varieties), and also finishing tax prep and mastering three choral pieces plus two dances and getting the guest room ready for visitors from Huntsville and Decatur.
Who knows how much of that would have actually happened as imagined or even on schedule. At any rate, the house and yard need plenty of tending, and now I'll have time to pickle garlic and add some rows to the blanket I'm crocheting (after I get all that tax paperwork off the bed it's intended for...). But first,
it being Pi Day, I'm going to address Kenspeckle's Breakfast Pie card to one of the stalwarts. And perhaps baking an apple pie is in order, but first, a nap . . .
Other poems sharing the living room in my head with various Audens:
The Lie
A Litany in Time of Plague
I had the good fortune of meeting calligrapher Margaret Shepherd some years ago in Boston, on a tour of her marvelous plaques and name-strips at First Church. She has been posting downloadable A-Z coloring pages at her blog, which some of you might find a lovely diversion.
Until Thursday, I'd been turning on my high beams during the last minute of my commute home, because the streetlamps were out. Thursday may have been the first day Holly Street was clear enough to turn on. Seeing the damage there hammered home yet again how very lucky the BYM and I are to be dealing only with uprooted trees and a trashed fence.
My original plans for spring break had included dancing, paddleboarding, kayaking, and connecting with old and new beloveds across North Carolina, plus some time dedicated to reading and correspondence (both of the activist and family+friends varieties), and also finishing tax prep and mastering three choral pieces plus two dances and getting the guest room ready for visitors from Huntsville and Decatur.
Who knows how much of that would have actually happened as imagined or even on schedule. At any rate, the house and yard need plenty of tending, and now I'll have time to pickle garlic and add some rows to the blanket I'm crocheting (after I get all that tax paperwork off the bed it's intended for...). But first,
it being Pi Day, I'm going to address Kenspeckle's Breakfast Pie card to one of the stalwarts. And perhaps baking an apple pie is in order, but first, a nap . . .
