Sometimes Monday… | 7.12.21

Sometimes Monday… | 7.12.21

Arrives and I have nothing for a blog post. So when all else fails, poetry saves the day! I hope that this poetry will bolster your day and start your week off in the best way! See you all back here on Wednesday!


In Summer Twilight

Joshua Henry Jones, Jr.

Just a dash of lambent carmine
  Shading into sky of gold;
Just a twitter of a song-bird
  Ere the wings its head enfold;
Just a rustling sigh of parting
  From the moon-kissed hill to breeze;
And a cheerful gentle, nodding
  Adieu waving from the trees;
Just a friendly sunbeam’s flutter
  Wishing all a night’s repose,
Ere the stars swing back the curtain
  Bringing twilight’s dewy close.

Sometimes Tuesday’s… | 6.1.21

Sometimes Tuesday’s… | 6.1.21

Feel like the long weekend was just not quite long enough and I spent zero time even thinking about a blog post.

Thank goodness for poetry…this poem arrived in my mailbox on Sunday and it seemed just perfect for the rainy weekend and there is something amazing about a poem that was written more than 1200 years ago…it very much speaks to me today!

Looking at the Moon After Rain

Li Po – 701-762

Translated by Florence Ayscough and Amy Lowell

The heavy clouds are broken and blowing,
And once more I can see the wide common stretching beyond the four sides of the city.
Open the door. Half of the moon-toad is already up,
The glimmer of it is like smooth hoar-frost spreading over ten thousand li.
The river is a flat, shining chain. 
The moon, rising, is a white eye to the hills;
After it has risen, it is the bright heart of the sea.
Because I love it—so—round as a fan,
I hum songs until the dawn.

This poem is in the public domain.

See you all back here tomorrow!

Photo by Vladyslav Dushenkovsky from Pexels

TGIF (etc) | 5.14.21

TGIF (etc) | 5.14.21

It feels like I have not done one of these posts in ages and so I thought that it would be a wonderful way to end the week:

(bookish) Thinking —

I managed to print out not one, but two Summer Book Bingo cards. I know… what is wrong with me! But there is a method to my madness, I like the squares for the most part of both cards so I have been thinking about potential books that would work. The winning card will be the one that has the most books “pre-filled” before Memorial Day Weekend arrives! I have not felt any urgency to get this done because it barely feels like May outside… it feels more like March! But, I digress…one thing I think would be riotously fun is the idea that Mary suggested of “square swapping”! She asked me earlier in the week if I had my card printed out (I didn’t then, but I do now!) and I have been pondering what square I might like to swap with her. I am thinking that it might make sense to trade her my “Modern Mrs. Darcy” square from Card One… but I don’t know what she might like to get rid of. Mary!! I am hoping you will weigh in here and we can do a bit of swapping! If you want to swap a square with me… let me know what you are offering!

 

(friendly) Goodwill —

Over the past couple of weeks, the kindness of “strangers” has really been the tide that is lifting my boat. Small things that were so unexpected and yet they made such an impact on me. A little book of poetry from Kym to thank me for participating in Poetry Month with her. I have been reading a poem or two a day with my morning meditation time and it has quickly become the bright spot of my morning! A little knitting “kit” from Jane (that she made!) really was the perfect thing… I had been contemplating getting something so when this arrived it just seemed like Jane had read my mind and put together exactly what I had been thinking about. A couple of weeks ago Vera was doing a bit of a “destash” of her amazing stitching patterns so imagine my surprise with the plethora that arrived this week! Plus some bits of lovely linen and threads! Ladies, your little gifts have truly wowed me! Your kindness and generosity are incredible and I thank you from the bottom of my heart!

 

(ducks) In a row —

My first step in sewing a few new pieces (from new patterns) for my wardrobe is to make muslins. But!! Before even that can happen I need to trace off the patterns onto tracing paper, and get everything ready to cut out the pieces. Recently, someone told me that tracing patterns was their least favorite thing, but I want to tell you all that it is the most important step of the entire process. Is it fun? Yes, I think so! It is the first place that I make alterations even before I start sewing. I can alter inseam length, rise, and sleeve length – things I know I always make adjustments on. Tracing patterns off also allows you to blend sizes! All those steps takes some time, but it also means a much better outcome (even for a lowly muslin!) So I hope to carve out some time today to begin the the tracing process. Hopefully I will get everything traced off so I can sit down and begin the “great cut out” later today. On a side note, I saw a color blocked version of this and I am also tossing the fabric stash to see if I have any fabrics that might coordinate together to try one!

(al) Fresco —

It has been such an incredibly shitty spring… cold (I mean we had frost three times this week, for crying out loud), rainy, cloudy… just really miserable weather. My furnace still is running in the mornings that is how cold it is has been! But today we are supposed to get almost to 70° and the sun is shining!! We are going to head out for a little outside dining on the lovely patio at our local brewery… pizza and beer for lunch sounds like the perfect way to begin the weekend! I might have to wear a sweater, but the sun is shining and there is not a single cloud in the sky!

(etc)

I am including this lovely little poem by Jack Ridl which comes from the book Kym sent – How to Love the World: Poems of Gratitude and Hope. This little poem has migrated to my pocket – it is a lovely reminder to enjoy the simple things, which seems incredibly important this morning after yesterdays “freedom from masks” announcement. I have some “brain retraining” work to do before I feel comfortable with that whole idea, but I am reminding myself that I trust the science… especially the science of the effectiveness of the vaccines – even against the variants that are floating around.

After Spending the Morning Baking Bread

Our cat lies across the stove’s front burners,
right leg hanging over the oven door. He
is looking into the pantry where his bowl
sits full on the counter. His smaller dish,
the one for his splash of cream, sits empty.
Say yes to wanting to be this cat. Say
yes to wanting to lie across the leftover
warmth, letting it rise into your soft belly,
spreading into every twitch of whisker, twist
of fur and cell, through the Mobius strip
of your bloodstream. You won’t know
you will die. You won’t know the mice
do not exist for you. If a lap is empty and
warm, you will land on it, feel an unsteady
hand along your back, fingers scratching
behind your ear. You will purr.


That is all I have for this week! I hope you all have an amazing Friday and an even better weekend! I will see you all back here on Monday!

April is for Poetry | 4.22.21

April is for Poetry | 4.22.21

Sometimes poetry is witty and clever…I think my grandfather’s favorite poet, Carl Sandburg, hits this brilliantly with his poem Fog. When my grandfather would recite this poem to me I could see exactly what Sandburg meant in the clever way he uses a cat to describe fog. (Don’t ask me about Sandburg’s other poetry though because I have tried to read it but none of it grabbed me like hearing my grandfather recite Fog from memory.)

But recently a poem landed in my email just when the winds were racing around my neighborhood. It is witty, brilliant, it made me chuckle…and it made me look at things from that rascally wind’s perspective!

Bonus moments occur when I keep thinking about the poem and I read it again and again. This poem by Gwendolyn Bennett is just incredible (as is she!) A Black woman – a writer and and educator who was born in Texas in 1902 must have at times felt like the wind was raging around her… and perhaps, just maybe, she felt like the wind around her students!

Wind

Gwendolyn Bennett

The wind was a care-free soul
That broke the chains of earth,
And stood for a moment across the land
With the wild halloo of his mirth
He little cared that he ripped up trees,
That houses fell at his hand,
That his step broke the calm of the breast of the seas,
That his feet stirred clouds of sand.

But when he had had his little joke,
Had shouted and laughed and sung,
When the trees were scarred, their branches broke,
And their foliage aching hung,
He crept to his cave with a healthy tread,
with rain-filled eyes and low-bowed head.

This poem is in the public domain. 

Please make sure you stop by and see what Kym, Bonny, and Sarah have to share with you today!

See you back here on Monday with an update on my word! I hope you are having a great week and your weekend will be full of fun things!

April is for Poetry | 4.22.21

April is for Poetry | 4.15.21

This week we are all sharing thoughts on ‘new beginnings’ and poetry. One would think this would be an easy topic because there are so.many.poems about beginning.

At first I thought that I’d share the poem that took my hand and began my love of poetry. It is a lovely poem by Derek Walcott called Love After Love. Kym shared it on her blog a few years ago during April. I printed it out and it is on the board by my desk. I read it often. It is an excellent poem to read to yourself or better yet, listen to Tom Hiddleston read it here. 

And as excellent as that poem is, I thought to myself that I should read more poems and find another that speaks to me about another beginning. Thanks to Sylvia Plath I did not have to look far. I found her poem, Morning Song and thought this is the most excellent beginning… the birth of a child. Ms. Plath reminded me of those all those feelings when I brought my Rachel home from the hospital 32 years ago. Honestly, it was such a scary thought… I was responsible for this tiny little baby! A new beginning for both of us!

Morning Song
Love set you going like a fat gold watch.
The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry
Took its place among the elements.
Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue.
In a drafty museum, your nakedness
Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.
I’m no more your mother
Than the cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow
Effacement at the wind’s hand.
All night your moth-breath
Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen:
A far sea moves in my ear.
One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral
In my Victorian nightgown.
Your mouth opens clean as a cat’s. The window square
Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try
Your handful of notes;
The clear vowels rise like balloons.

Sylvia Plath, “Morning Song” from Collected Poems. Copyright © 1960, 1965, 1971, 1981 by the Estate of Sylvia Plath.

Please go and see what Kym, Bonny, and Sarah are sharing today!

I will be back next week for Unraveled Wednesday!

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