Monthly Archives May 2012
Waiting by John Burroughs
Serene I fold my arms and wait,
Nor care for wind, or tide, or sea:
I rave no more ‘gainst time or fate,
For lo! my own shall come to me.
I stay my haste, I make delays,
For what avails this eager pace?
I stand amid the eternal ways,
And what is mine shall know my face.
Asleep, awake, by night or day,
The friends I seek are seeking me;
No wind can drive my bark astray,
Nor change the tide of destiny.
What matter if I stand alone?
I wait with joy the coming years;
My heart shall reap where it has sown,
And garner up its fruit of tears.
The waters know their own, and draw
The brook that springs in yonder height;
So flow the good with equal law
Unto the soul of pure delight.
The floweret nodding in the windRead More
Is ready plighted to the bee;
And, maiden, why that look unk...
We had a lot of rain early this morning, enough that yards were flooded, even mine, which is uncommon. Lights were down all over the city, most of them working but on a blinking red light.
Tonight the frogs are just singing their little amphibious hearts out. I can hear them where I sit, with no window open, the tv on, and a window unit A/C running not six feet from me. It’s amazing that something so small I haven’t even seen them yet this year can be that loud.
A few years ago we had cicadas. They were one of the 17-year varieties, and it was a BIG crop of them. They were everywhere in the entire region.
The zoo keepers in Cincinnati couldn’t get the animals to do tricks for their shows because they animals didn’t care about the treats anymore, there were little cicada treats ev...Read More
Today was the last day of a long weekend, and while it was still quite hot, it wasn’t as hot as it has been. I did not do any real weeding because we’re supposed to have rain tomorrow, which will make the ground softer and the weeds easier to pull, and cool it down a bit; it made more sense to wait.
I did, however, get the patio put together mostly. Flower pots still need to be moved, I’m not sure of the placement of a couple of pieces of furniture, I have a few more plants to put in pots or the ground, but it’s an enjoyable area now, so did do that.
As I think a holiday like this is bound to, I spent some time today thinking about friends and family that are no longer here.
My father died when I was 2, my mother died eleven years ago this week...Read More
May 28, 2012 Garden
I have had one of those days where I feel as though I’ve been rather unproductive. I did go to a munch this evening and to a friend’s house after. I had planned to get up early and do some weeding before it got too hot, and then I slept in a bit and when I went out and did a little, the heat drove me in, so I didn’t do that.
I could have gone down to the basement and worked a bit more on the shelves, but as I might have mentioned, I am sick of books. I will put in an hour or so tomorrow, but I can’t do a lot more until the old bookcases are repaired and I can’t do that, so it has to wait.
I was going to make some phone calls, although I know from experience holiday weekends aren’t great for that, so it was easy to blow off.
I could have tidied the kitchen and emptied the dishwasher, ...Read More
May 27, 2012 Vanilla Life
I am sick of books right now.
One of my projects for this weekend was going through bookcases in the basement. They are inexpensive build-it-yourself bookcases that my ex and I built, as it turns out, rather badly. They have developed a more and more pronounced list to the left over the last months, and I fear that left unattended they would utterly collapse in another month.
While it was not the most fun task ahead of me, I also knew it would be relatively cool in the basement during a scorching hot holiday weekend, and there would be worse places to be. No one is home right now but me, as slave drew is at his house in western Kentucky now, building a project...Read More
Don’t we all love beginnings? Remember when you were a kid, those first days of school, when you had the brand new notebook with tons of empty pages, fresh and clean and pristine, and sharpened pencils, points so dangerous you couldn’t press too hard or you’d tear the paper?
Maybe you had a packet of pens, clear barrels with the black ink clearly visible, like a dip stick inside, ready to spell out words and formulas? Or a fresh box of crayons, all the same length and very uniform, before you had broken points and sharpened them, being forced to peel the paper away from the tips of your favorites, the red and black and blue.
There’s something freeing about beginnings, about the blank piece of paper in front of you, all the unwritten words swirling around in your head, waiting for you t...Read More