Friday, July 20, 2012
Miss Charlotte Bronte meets Miss Barbara Pym: A Pymian Dinner: We had a Pymian dinner tonight, what she would call a maccaroni cheese, only ours had broccoli. It is a hot, quiet evening, but the humidit...
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
An Apologia for Countess Erzebet Bathory: A Novel for Erzebet: I am writing a novel for young adults which will feature Erzebet. We live in more liberal times, and there those sympathetic to the plight ...
Friday, July 13, 2012
"And there are so many stories to tell, too many, such an excess of intertwined lives events miracles places rumours, so dense a commingling of the imporbably and mundane! I have been a swalloer of lives; and to know me, jstu theoneof me, you'll have to swallow the lot as well"
Monday, July 9, 2012
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
It occurred to me that there are somethings I do very consciously when I am writing, especially a critical conference paper on something I really love. PS; sorry for dropped h's; the keyboard is failing me. For instance, I have gotten in the habit of writing the bibliography of my paper first. Somehow, this creates a frame of reference for my thesis, and it is much easier to create the paper, and to stay on track. I can skim my sources as I go, especially with The Internet. I find doing this skimming helps me to construct my argument, and also to fill in the holes. I know when to stop,and when to keep looking. It is the eve of the 4th; I have memories of great ones, where we threw sparklers in the air, and the night was cold, even. In CA, where we bought fireworks at stands, and had Smokin Sams [I sill have the cardboard little man] and RWB cones. The whole block turned out, and my uncle George took me to the stands and bought me what I wanted. We had homemade ice cream, and lemonade, and life was good. I spent others in Disneyland, and marvelled at the electric light parade and at Tinkerbell sliding down the wire; she was 72 my first year there. Even quiet home 4ths were great; we watched fireworks from our front porch, or drove to the high school, and one year I sang in an opera, where my future husband build the sets, Cavaleria Rusticana. That was 1976, and we went to a flea market, and i put togeter a great album with vintage paper dolls in it, and Mom and I read John Jakes series on the 200th anniversary of the US. LIfe was good. This is why memories, and the things that trigger them, are so important. The artifacts of our lives are more than stuff, they are te road markers of where we've been, and they jumpstart our memories, and ward off fear and dementia.
Miss Charlotte Bronte meets Miss Barbara Pym: Pym's 100th: If all predictions are wrong, and the world goes on after Dec. 2012, it will soon by Pym's 100th birtday. I wonder what the Society will pl...
Sunday, July 1, 2012
I was recenlty accused of musing while I write; well, The Muses were the mothers of inspiration, so Muse away I will. They are also, I might add, part of my heritage, and I was often called Musitsa, or little Muse when I was a little girl. I noticed that Target is putting garden tools, pots, supplies, and ornaments at 50%. Also, if you have Hobby Lobby, their summer statuary and yard ornaments are going at 50% or even more discounts. Our local Disc Replay chain is featuring a double dvd for around $5.00 of the most recent films of A Little Princess coupled with The Secret Garden. Speaking of Gardens; am I the only one who misses the old format of The Secret Garden which included Marian Marsh's recipes? Locally, I am involved in many projects invovling the sustainability of water at several organizations. We are planning field trips and all sorts of exibits, including poetry and photography conests invovling several other clubs. These are good ideas to make the community aware of environmental issues without preaching, whic frankly, turns me off to no end. My cat Emma La Contessa de Gagga-Bathory is settling down, and likes to sleep with her mousie "DOLLS" on a plush pink/green baby blanket. She is feisty, and not at all the sweet tempered kitty my Opie was, or even our Daxie, a curmudgeon kitty devoted to us. Daxie looked like Mr. French, and guarded us all, but he purred if you called him Daximo the Magnificent, and he could spell shrimp, his greatest passion. Among my projects; fix my AC in the car, fix upstairs bathroom, weed garden, repair vintage dolls, draw/paint a Sphynx, get a new keyboard for this thing, work on papers/writing. Memory is another Muse; I remember a couple summers back, later than now, when my early pumpkins were ready, and I made soup from my own crop. Not alot of luck with them this year; many lean and hungry deer, and not enough rain. I will not partake in anoter local bookfair, I've decided. I left early yesterday, after being stuck in a corner against a stairwell with no escape, and with a sound system blasting poetry at my already aching head. This was a vanity feast for would-be self publsihers, of which I am not. And, I was somewhat taken advantage of by one of the organizers, who did not even give our names after we paid her for our share of the table. Never again. Happy blogging, happy gardening, happy summer!