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I Am Easily Amused

Words to Consider

  • There must be more to life than having everything. -Maurice Sendak
  • Don't take life so serious; it ain't nohow permanent. —Pogo
  • The first revolutionary act is to call things by their true names, said Rosa Luxemburg.
  • The test of our progress is not whether we add more to the abundance of those who have much, it is whether we provide enough for those who have too little. -- Franklin D. Roosevelt
  • When you arise in the morning, give thanks for the morning light, for your life and strength. Give thanks for your food and the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies in yourself. —Tecumseh
  • i do it for the joy it brings / because i am a joyful girl / because the world owes me nothing / and we owe each other the world / i do it because it's the least i can do / i do it because i learned it from you / i do it just because i want to / because I want to —"Joyful Girl", Ani DiFranco
  • Democrats are the party of those who are working, those who have finished working, and those who want to work. -- Elizabeth Edwards
  • Do not worry over the charge of treason to your masters, but be concerned about the treason that involves yourselves. Be true to yourself and you cannot be a traitor to any good cause on Earth. - Eugene V. Debs, Speech, June 16, 1918
  • "Nothing living should ever be treated with contempt. Whatever it is that lives, a man, a tree, or a bird, should be touched gently, because the time is short. Civilization is another word for respect for life." - Elizabeth Goudge, author of The Joy of the Snow
  • "There is nothing I can give you, which you have not; But there is much, very much, that while I cannot give it, you can take. No heaven can come to us unless our hearts find rest in today. Take heaven! No peace lies in the future which is not hidden in this present instant. Take peace! The gloom of the world is but a shadow. Behind it, yet within reach, is joy. There is a radiance and glory in the darkness, could we but see, and to see we have only to look. I beseech you to look. Life is so generous a giver, but we, judging its gifts by their covering, cast them away as ugly, or heavy or hard. Remove the covering, and you will find beneath it a living splendor, woven of love, by wisdom, with power. Welcome it, grasp it, and you touch the angel's hand that brings it to you. Everything we call a trial, a sorrow, or a duty, believe me that angel's hand is there; the gift is there, and the wonder of an overshadowing presence. Our joys too: be not content with them as joys. They, too, conceal diviner gifts. And so, at this time, I greet you. Not quite as the world sends greetings, but with profound esteem and with the prayer that for you now and forever, the day breaks, and the shadows flee away. " (Fra Giovanni 1513 A.D.)

Art Dolls

  • Another Pink Jester
    My imaginary friends.

Artist Trading Cards

  • Feather
    A sampling of my ATCs. Some available for trade, as noted.

Beadwork

  • Face in Browns
    Mostly pins, with some other oddments.

Hats, Etc.

  • Yellow Beret
    Both hats and scarves, almost all crochet . . . so far.

Journal Quilts

  • Mona
    I'm doing one 8.5" x 11" quilt a month for an online challenge this year, plus a few others.

Paper Dolls

  • Pashmina, A Lady from the Mysterious East
    Second childhood? Not quite . . .

Books, 2008

  • A Language Older Than Words, by Derrick Jensen
    I don't know quite how to describe this book—it's disquieting, uncomfortable, and eminently worth reading.
  • Catwings and Catwings Return, both by Ursula LeGuin
    I listed them together because they're short juveniles, with charming illustrations. James, Thelma, Harriet and Roger were born with wings, and they flew into adventures.
  • Firebird, by R. Garcia y Robertson
    Takes the firebird legends of Russia and Eastern Europe and adds several new twists—a heroic heroine, for one, who rescues her knight . . .
  • World Made By Hand, by James Howard Kunstler
    American life in the aftermath of the long emergency, when lack of oil and climate change have put industrial civilization out of business. Not bad, but I've read better; specifically, I have problems with his characterizations of women (the proverbial madonna/whore and nothing else). However, I didn't buy this, so I got what I paid for . . . .
  • The Three of Swords, by Fritz Leiber
    A three-volume book club compilation of Swords and Deviltry, Swords Against Death, and Swords in the Mist. Leiber's epic fantasy stories and novelettes, featuring his heroes Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser. These were one of my first sword-and-sorcery readings, and I've never quite gotten over them, I suppose.
  • A Sand County Almanac, by Aldo Leopold
    This edition also contains Sketches Here and There, and some essays—I loved the Almanac part! The sketches were enjoyable, but not essential to me, and I'm afraid I got bogged down in the essays and didn't finish them.
  • The Penelopiad, by Margaret Atwood
    The story of Penelope, the long-suffering and constant wife of Odysseus, as told by herself and the twelve maids hanged by Odysseus upon his return.
  • Crossing Open Ground, by Barry Lopez
    Nature essays, on various subjects—I highly recommend this. In fact, I ordered his Of Wolves and Men, which has moved to the top of the "read this next" pile; and I have Arctic Dreams here *somewhere* . . . but I can't find it!
  • The Dispossesed, by Ursula LeGuin
    I've read this twice now, and I still don't "get" it. There doesn't seem to be much point to the story, though LeGuin is always a good writer. It's probably some lack in me, but there you are.
  • The Hounds of the Morrigan, by Pat O'Shea
    Comic fantasy set in the world of Irish mythology (and Faery)—the heroes are Pidge and his sister Brigit, who are chosen to thwart the Morrigan. This was O'Shea's first novel; I need to see whether she's written anything else . . .
  • The Pilot's Wife, by Anita Shreve
    I read this in one long evening—it's that good. Learning to live with the unthinkable.
  • The Iron Dragon's Daughter, by Michael Swanwick
    Very, very strange, even for a fantasy novel "Industrial Darkness and Magick" says the dust jacket—the story of Jane, a changeling stolen to toil in the dragon factory in Faery.
  • The Killer's Tears, by Anne-Laure Bondoux
    A very strange and thoughful little book that explores guilt, innocence and the nature of love.
  • The Left Hand of Darkness, by Ursula LeGuin
    Another of my periodic re-reads. The story of the Terran Envoy to Winter, a planet whose inhabitants are androgynous and may chance sex every 26 days (but there's a lot more to it than just that).
  • The Spiral Dance, by R. Garcia y Robertson
    I first read this ten or fifteen years ago, and have been searching for a copy ever since (thank you, Alibris!)—set in Elizabethan Scotland, it is the story of Anne Percy, Countess of Northumberland, and the conspiracy (one of them) to restore Mary Queen of Scots to the English throne—and of a madwoman, the Virgin Mary, witches, a werewolf, the lands of Faery . . .
  • The Moon Under Her Feet, by Clysta Kinstler
    A feminist retelling of the conception, birth, life and death of Christ, as told by Mary Magdalene, High Priestess of the Great Mother in Jerusalem.
  • Kitchen Literacy, by Ann Vileisis
    An account of how we as a culture have become disconnected from the sources of our food, and why we need to return.
  • The Death of Innocents, by Sister Helen Prejean
    An eyewitness account of wrongful executions, this is the followup to her stellar Dead Man Walking. Must reading, in my not-so-humble opinion.
  • The Last Girls, by Lee Smith
    Another fine story by the author of Fair and Tender Ladies, Black Mountain Breakdown, Oral History, and so many more—all evoke The South beautifully, and this is no exception. A reunion-riverboat trip down the Mississippi is the setting, and the "girls" are now women looking back.
  • Feasting the Heart, by Reynolds Price
    52 essays originally aired on NPR, plus a couple that never made in onto the air—varying subjects, but always beautifully done.
  • The White Witch, by Elizabeth Goudge
    A yearly re-read—Cavaliers, Puritans and Gypsies in the time of Charles I in her tale of love and subterfuge in the English countryside. And Froniga, one of my favorite of all her strong women . . .
  • Pucker, by Melanie Gideon
    Thomas, horribly burned in a childhood fire and burdened by a 'crazy' mother, has always been an outsider—but now he must return to his birthplace, the world of Isaura, to save his mother and to face possibility and temptation. Fascinating and well-written.
  • The Scent of Water, by Elizabeth Goudge
    Begins with a death and ends with a birth in the tiny village of Appleshaw—and in between there is life, love, friendship, faith, and the enchanting cabinet full of 'the little things." As always, a portal into a way of life long gone. . . and one that I miss, though I never knew it.
  • A Swift Pure Cry, by Siobhan Dowd
    The story of Shell, who finds herself pregnant at 15—the baby is stillborn, so she and her brother and sister bury it in the back garden. Then the Garda arrive . . . based on a true story, and very well done.
  • The Dean's Watch, by Elizabeth Goudge
    I'd never read this one; the characters aren't nearly as sympathetic as in most of her books, and it was difficult for me to finish. But it was worth it—there are lessons here, and things don't end well, but they do end rightly.
  • Book of a Thousand Days, by Shannon Hale
    A shimmering retelling of the Grimm's fairy tale 'Maid Maleen,' reimagined on the Central Asian steppes. I read until 3 a.m. because I couldn't bear to stop until the end. . .
  • Tistou of the Green Thumbs, by Maurice Druon (trans. by Humphrey Hare)
    A strange and pleasant little book: Tistou, an only child with remarkable powers of growing plants simply by sticking his 'green thumbs' into the dirt, takes on the wrongs of society. A French juvenile, ex-library, my brother found it at Goodwill and passed it on.
  • A Country Year, by Sue Hubbell
    About life on the land in the Ozarks, and a woman finding herself in middle age—I recommend it highly. And she keeps bees, too.
  • Losing Moses on the Freeway, by Chris Hedges
    The 10 Commandments in America—Hedges explores the challenge of living according to these moral precepts.
  • In Defense of Food, Michael Pollan
    An Eater's Manifesto—Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants. (and nothing with over five ingredients, ingredients you don't recognize and can't pronounce, and nothing your great-grandmother wouldn't recognize as food.)

Wednesday, 11 October 2006

Autumn Scenes

Photos today and not much else . . . I've been to the doctor for lab work this morning (which meant I couldn't eat anything for 12 hours)*, and been outside working since. I'm too tired to write anything coherent! Maybe later . . .

Looking out the back door . . . the wind has been blowing a bit today, sending golden leaves spiraling down. I tried to catch them with the camera, but had no luck. They were beautiful, though; autumn's coin raining down on me while I worked.

Yellowtrees_1

An autumn crocus blooming in the back bed

Autumncrocus

The nasturtiums have gotten their second wind

Nasturtium

And so, alas, have the Spanish needles (ignore the dirty house)

Spanishneedles

Mona, fat and wooly and ready for winter

Monainautumn

Thinking of Thanksgiving, perhaps

Pensiveturkey

Finally, some feathers growing back in!

Moltlingrooster

*Listen to me . . . complaining because I can't eat for twelve whole hours . . . how disgusting! I ought to be ashamed.

Wednesday, 04 October 2006

Things That Go Bump In The Night, Part II

The back porch is a regular Grand Central Station some nights:

first the possum returns

Possumeatingcatfood

then one of the raccoons drops by

Raccoon1

and here is someone new

Skunk1

John has lived in this house for 40  years and never seen a skunk here before. We hope he (she? I'm not getting close enough to investigate) is only passing through . . . all this was a couple of nights ago, and I haven't seen him since, so perhaps he has moved along.

Tuesday, 26 September 2006

The Night Visitor

We had a visitor last night . . . I heard a bump and clatter on the back porch, and there he was: the small black possum. Quite probably a descendant of the large black possum who ate here last year and the year before, and grew to be rotund, like a football with legs and a scaly tail. This one, however, is small and tidy, and hungry . . . he had eaten all the cat food in both bowls on the porch floor and was eyeing the one on the refrigerator. (Victoria's; she won't eat on the ground, and she doesn't like to share.) When I opened the screen door he had managed to get up on to the freezer and was contemplating how to scale the side of rhe refrigerator . . .

He beat a hasty retreat when I went back to get the camera, and this was all I managed to catch:

Possumbutt

A minute later he peeked around the post, and I got this one: (It's blurry, but he wasn't interested in posing, just eating.)

Possumhead

Usually he eats out on the deck on the other side of the house, but I had selfishly neglected to fill that bowl before it got dark.

Friday, 07 July 2006

Caught in the Act!

I discovered who's been eating all the suet . . .

Squirreleatingsuet1

Squirreleatingsuet2

I wondered why it had been disappearing so quickly! Even with young bluejays about . . .

(Links to many, many neat photos at The Modulator's Friday Ark . . . go have a look.)

Tuesday, 27 June 2006

Down In Back . . .

Here is the new chicken lot addition: New_chicken_lot
Part of it, anyway. (Yeah, I know it isn't terribly impressive, but you aren't a chicken, are you?) It wraps around the old lot and encloses about four times as much space, most of which is (or was; I took this picture several days ago) covered with ground ivy and various bits of woods greenery, and lots of leaves and tasty bugs . . . There's an egress hole cut in the old fence (that's it on the left) for them to go back and forth, at least until we get another roost built, hopefully later this summer . . . whatever happened to all that spare time that retirees are supposed to have?

And here are the turkeys, originally: Turkeys

There are only four now, and one guinea. Apparently we are feeding something in the night. Probably a big owl of some sort . . . I like the idea of owls being out there, but I'd really rather they ate something other than my turkeys. I don't suppose they care what I'd like, though.

And here is John with the goats. This was last week, before all the rain. (Final total: 4 and 3/10 inches. Another reason I'm glad I don't live in DC.)

Johnwithgoats

William is in back sulking; Henrietta and Frank, if I remember correctly, were trying to see who could get his/her head deeper into the feed pail, since there were six kernels of corn still left . . . that's Mona and Jesse on the left, Lucy in the middle background, Zeekie being petted and Bella being jealous.

Friday, 23 June 2006

Look what we have acquired now . . .

Guineacloseup Guineas! Two of them (perhaps a pair . . . though I'm not quite sure how to tell just yet). They are living in the goat lot, to eat the spilled corn and whatnot, and range down into the woods. (No, I have no idea what that rainbow-looking thing is. Wire, possibly.) Henriettaguinea

And here is Henrietta, who seems to be quite fond of them. When John went down to feed this evening,  they were hanging out together . . . she eats out of the bucket, sloppily, and they eat what she spills, and we're all just as happy as clams. Assuming clams ate corn.

Except William . . . he's still sulking because he's not the Only Sheep anymore. Williamsulking

Friday, 09 June 2006

Groundhog Day

Here he (she?) is . . . John says he's about 2 months old. He would just about fill two hands, I think. (No, I didn't try to pick him up, even though I was tempted . . . I think I need all my fingers intact, and he has lovely sharp teeth.) The cabbage leaves are what's left of what I put in the trap for him to eat while he was waiting.

Younggroundhog1

 

I personally think a groundhog would be an interesting pet, but I was overruled . . . John's grandfather had one, and it used to steal his socks. In fact, from what I'm told, sock thievery was the least of its misdeeds.

Younggroundhog2

 

We probably have enough confusion around here as it is . . . But isn't he cute? (and a bit out of focus, too)

(We were going to have spinach for supper . . . I hope he enjoyed eating it all before he went into the trap!)

Younggroundhogcloseup

Groundhog Day—anticipatory

We have captured a baby groundhog! (Of course, there are probably others at large, but sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof, or something similar . . . ) He/she is currently on his/her way to a new home: one of John's friends wants a young one to raise as a pet. At any rate, there will be photos after a while, when I get home. For now, I have to go to the post office/bank/grocery store, or it will be a long weekend . . .

Wednesday, 07 June 2006

This, That and The Other

We had a groundhog visiting the garden last week (the emphasis here is on "had"; she is no more, alas):

Groundhogdamage1

 

 

Groundhogdamage2

 

 

We buried her in the garden's edge, near the compost pile.

Groundhogsdemise

 

 

I hope none of her relatives come by; I hate to have to kill one, but . . . We've found the hole we think she used, and we're going to fill it in, in order to discourage anyone else from making themselves at home.

At least John is a good shot, and it wasn't up to me.

On a somewhat brighter note, we went to Barnes and Noble today . . . I tell you, we really should not be allowed in a bookstore together. We just reinforce each other.

Here is a list:

Sex with Kings, and its companion volume, Sex with Queens, both by Eleanor Herman

Here Is Your War, by Ernie Pyle (WWII dispatches by Pyle)

The General and The Jaguar, by Eileen Welsome (Gen. Pershing's hunt for Pancho Villa)

Empires Colllide, The French and Indian War 1754-64, ed. Ruth Sheppard

The Comedians, Graham Greens (novel about Haiti under Duvalier)

Second Nature, Michael Pollan (gardening meditations)

The Omnivore's Dilemma, Michael Pollan (food, and its social/ethical/environmental impacts)

Desk Reference to Nature's Medicine, Steven Foster and Rebecca L. Johnson (herbal)

and something called The Film Junkie's Guide to North Carolina, which neither of us will admit to buying . . . I suspect it got into the pile by  mistake, but I know someone who will probably enjoy it, so . . .

And I didn't even get what I went after (a dollmaking magazine, which wasn't in yet, and some books on Haiti and Cuba, because I am reading Tracy Ridder's book about Paul Farmer, Mountains After  Mountains, and would like to know some more about both countries. I seem to be incapable of reading anything without finding some tangent that looks interesting to explore . . . on the other hand, just think of all the most-useless knowledge I'll have accumulated by the time I die!)

And now I am going to go and crochet another hat . . . afghans for Afghans is collecting for another shipment at the end of June, and I'd like to have half a dozen hats to send them. (They have a crochet version of their vest, but I don't believe I can get one finished in time for this shipment. Next time.) I have several balls of alpaca (2 greens, pink, rose, brown) and I think I can get at least four hats out of them, maybe more.

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