Friday, June 29, 2012

in every wood in every spring

Dear Readers, I am sorry that I've been out of touch recently. Unfortunately, it's only going to get worse, as I will be spending July doing so many likeable things that I probably won't have time to blog about them.
August will bring more updates, I promise.

_________________________________________________________________


I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been;

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall ever see.

For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.

But all the while I sit and think
of times that were before
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.

- J.R.R. Tolkien

Sunday, June 24, 2012

Baby Robin

I went to visit my parents this weekend. They have a new computer and wireless connection, so I showed my mom how she can watch the Daily Show online. Sitting down in front of the computer screen and watching the opening credit, she said "This is what I have been waiting for all of these years."
Also, this baby robin was in my parents' front yard. So cute. So not scared enough of people yet.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

haters gonna waddle

1. "You Don't Have to Be Pretty. You don't owe prettiness to anyone. Not to your boyfriend/spouse/partner, not to your coworkers, especially not to random men on the street. You don't owe it to your mother, you don't owe it to your children, you don't owe it to civilization in general. Prettiness is not a rent you pay for occupying a space marked 'female.'" - Erin McKean of A Dress A Day

2. Fourteen years ago, when I was 10, I tried to read the Hobbit and got scared. Put down the book. Since then, I have not picked anything by Tolkien up again. But I've decided that the time has come. I am reading the Fellowship of the Ring, and I like it so much!

3. 21 Pictures That Will Restore Your Faith in Humanity. Mostly just the ones with cats.

4. If you're feeling too good about yourself and the world after that, try 28 of the Biggest Kid Fails of All Time.

5. If I ever got a tattoo based on an internet meme, I think it would be inspired by this little guy.

6. 

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Mint & Chocolate

1. Today was so hot and gross so we went out for ice cream. I got a brownie sundae made with minty chocolate ice cream. Best decision I made all day.

2.

3. Better Off Ted. Somehow I missed this show when it was on tv, maybe because it has a terrible title. Apparently most people missed it, because it was cancelled after only two short seasons, but it is honestly one of the funniest tv shows I've ever seen. And it's on Netflix Watch Instantly!


4. 
On the Necessity of Sadness

Let me tell you about longing.
Let me presume that I have something
new to say about it, that this room,
naked, its walls pining for clocks,
has something new to say 
about absence. Somewhere
the crunch of an apple, fading
sunflowers on a quilt, a window 
looking out to a landscape
with a single tree. And you
sitting under it. Let go,
said you to me in a dream,
but by the time the wind 
carried your voice to me, 
I was already walking through 
the yawning door, towards 
the small, necessary sadnesses
of waking. I wish 
I could hold you now, 
but that is a line that has
no place in a poem, like the swollen
sheen of the moon tonight, 
or the word absence, or you,
or longing. Let me tell you about
longing. In a distant country
two lovers are on a bench, and pigeons,
unafraid, are perching beside them.
She places a hand on his knee
and says, say to me
the truest thing you can.
I am closing my eyes now.
You are far away.

- Mikael de Lara Co

Sunday, June 17, 2012

it will get stuck in your head, though

1.

2. Using the free garlic scapes I got from a box on someone's front stoop, I made garlic scape pesto last Thursday. It was delicious.

3. Swimming in creeks.

4. This board game, Ticket to Ride. I'm pretty terrible at it, but it's fun.

5. Spending most of a Saturday sitting in the sun with friends, the rest of it eating, doing #3, watching #1, or playing #4.

6. Old picture of my mom and dad!
This was 1973, so they were 27 and 30. 

7. I really like this father poem by e.e. cummings, but as it's quite long I won't post it all here. My favorite line is of course the last one  - "because my Father lived his soul / love is the whole and more than all."

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

sometimes the blues is just a passing bird

1. Today, walking through Fall Creek (a neighborhood in Ithaca), I saw a box on the front steps of someone's house, with the sign "Free Garlic Scapes!" So I helped myself to some free garlic scapes.

2. Sculptural artwork by Samuel Salcedo. Heads up - it's not graphic, but some of it might be considered disturbing to look at. Chez, it would probably make you itchy.

3. Today I put a new pair of shoes on Baby. He took a step, and squeaked. He tentatively took another step, and squeaked again. "Oh God, Baby," I said laughing, "I think those shoes squeak on purpose." Baby started laughing too and started to do a little quick step dance, and then ran all over the first floor laughing and squeaking.

4. The Tallest Man On Earth has a new album out. Listening to it, I became reacquainted with this song, which I just think is the best:




Monday, June 11, 2012

silence to my compass

1. I figured out how to change the g-mail account associated with this blog! No more worries about people being able to find it by searching my name! Now I have my very own sometimesblogged@gmail.com address for all "Things I Like" related concerns.


2.


3. Planned Parenthood has a tumblr and thanks to this post I remembered to get my 3rd shot. Also, I would like to restate how much I like Planned Parenthood and their work. They provide ALL KINDS of services, and not just for women either. 
4.
Girl Reading by Lucian Freud

5.


Something I've Not Done

Something I’ve not done
is following me
I haven’t done it again and again
so it has many footsteps
like a drumstick that’s grown old and never been used

In late afternoon I hear it come closer
at times it climbs out of a sea
onto my shoulders
and I shrug it off
losing one more chance

Every morning
it’s drunk up part of my breath for the day
and knows which way
I’m going
and already it’s not done there
But once more I say I’ll lay hands on it
tomorrow
and add its footsteps to my heart
and its story to my regrets
and its silence to my compass 
- W.H. Merwin

Friday, June 8, 2012

of stars that do not give a damn

The More Loving One


Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.



How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.



Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.



Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total darkness sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.



- W.H. Auden

Thursday, June 7, 2012

I Won't Grow Up

1. 
xkcd
xkcd
2. I've posted this poem before (I think it was actually part of the very first post I ever made on this blog), but it is the best poem about growing up that I know. 



my mind is
a big hunk of irrevocable nothing which touch and taste and smell
and hearing and sight keep hitting and chipping with sharp fatal
tools
in an agony of sensual chisels i perform squirms of chrome and ex
-ecute strides of cobalt
nevertheless i
feel that i cleverly am being altered that i slightly am becoming
something a little different, in fact
myself
Hereupon helpless i utter lilac shrieks and scarlet bellowings.
e.e. cummings
3. If it means I must prepare to shoulder burdens with a worried air...

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Goodnight Everybody

Grown-Up


Was it for this I uttered prayers, 
And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs, 
That now, domestic as a plate, 
I should retire at half-past eight? 



- Edna St. Vincent Millay