Miss Charlotte Bronte meets Miss Barbara Pym: To an Athlete Dying Young

Miss Charlotte Bronte meets Miss Barbara Pym: To an Athlete Dying Young: For my friend, Steve: Well, two weeks and $400 later I am once again feeling much better; how clear everything looks after a good night's s...

Miss Charlotte Bronte meets Miss Barbara Pym: In Memoriam Anne Boleyn May 19th

Miss Charlotte Bronte meets Miss Barbara Pym: In Memoriam Anne Boleyn May 19th: Every year I mention her; she's fascinated me since I was 8 or 9. The cruelty of her fate, the saddness in her life, the isolation and fear...

For my Friend Steve; May He Rest in Peace

To An Athlete Dying Young by A. E. Housman The time you won your town the race We chaired you through the market-place; Man and boy stood cheering by, And home we brought you shoulder-high. To-day, the road all runners come, Shoulder-high we bring you home, And set you at your threshold down, Townsman of a stiller town. Smart lad, to slip betimes away From fields where glory does not stay, And early though the laurel grows It withers quicker than the rose. Eyes the shady night has shut Cannot see the record cut, And silence sounds no worse than cheers After earth has stopped the ears: Now you will not swell the rout Of lads that wore their honours out, Runners whom renown outran And the name died before the man. So set, before its echoes fade, The fleet foot on the sill of shade, And hold to the low lintel up The still-defended challenge-cup. And round that early-laurelled head Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead, And find unwithered on its curls The garland briefer than a girl's.

The Legend of Tugfest

Later today, we have our Book Launch Party for this book. I Hope it goes well; don't know if I'll be there; I can barely talk and am sick with acid reflux, caused by who knows what? Friday was a trying day of funerals, vistiations, palace intrique, and one unruly person who dared threaten me. She needs to get a life.

An Apologia for Countess Erzebet Bathory: Diary

An Apologia for Countess Erzebet Bathory: Diary: A link; http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2546218/1/The_Diary_of_Elizabeth_Bathory From Ambrose Maximilian, a fictional account of Erzebet's la...

Dr. E's Doll Museum Blog: Metal Heads and Musings

Dr. E's Doll Museum Blog: Metal Heads and Musings: Today's blog is an excerpt from my book on Metal Dolls. I hope you enjoy it. I am still looking for clear photographs for this book, and y...

3 am is the Darkest Hour of the Soul

Or, so said to that effect F. Scott Fitzgerald. Barring Saturday, I haven't slept since Friday night with one thing or another. So, I tried the usual remedies, and watched my Perry Mason on MeTV, and just did the dishes. I've read, and knitted, and watched Emma-cat sleep, but maybe it's just been to much of a week. We lost at a young age a good friend at work very suddenly; he was a father, son, teacher, marathoner, financial analyst, good friend, caring roommate. It really was too much. One week ago, I was talking with him at length, shop talk and life in general. He had finished one marathon and was training for another at 52, probably in the best shape of his life. Now, he's gone, literally ashes for eternity, dust in the mind of history. None of us will forget him, but coping is very hard. I am shocked at the lack of compassion so many have, and how they think his unexpected death will somehow impact them. Blind mouths; small minds. I have thought of much tonight, of those I love, of how much I've lost. I keep thinking of Mother's Day, and how for me, it is another trip to the cemetery, and my mom hated cemeteries. One of my original 49 tips was "be spritiual, whatever that means to you!" Now, I have to emphasize that for everyone. I try for productive insomnia, and hope for even one solid hour of rest, but this sinus garbage won't set me free this year. This is at least the 4th or 5th time this year, and the last two felt like a walking pneumonia. RE my post on toxins; there are more in facial scrubs and some antibacterialk soaps. Google the topic, and read carefully. I know I can't use certain apricot scrubs due to an allergic reaction, and a certain plus version of a popular cough syrup makes me look like I have pink eye. Plant flowers or trees this weekend for someone you love, and have peace. Tell everyone you love, that you love him/her. You don't know if it will be the last time you see each other. Smile at a stranger; my first grade teacer told us we were all brothers and sisters. It isn't a bad thought. As hard as it is in an election year, try not to judge anyone. If we can't forgive, then try to forget. Sleep well. Now would be a good time to read F. Scott.