Things, 10, of the 10th
1) It is the rainy season, a true one after some years of drought, in the subtropics, and there are waterbirds in the stormwater retention pond, and there are clouds building overhead.
2) My ailing Blonde Dog is not doing well, but she feels well, and is still eating heartily.
3) I require comfort reading.
4) Because of 3), I am saving Tim Powers' Hide Me Among the Graves (the Nephilim! the Rossettis! Dr Polidori's Curse!) for a later date, although it sits gathering gloom on my kitchen table.
5) And I know to put it aside, because I did just read The Stress of Her Regard, the earlier Tim Powers book with the Nephilim, poetry = vampiric curse, and a whole whole bunch o' Romantic poets. It's good, but it's not comforting.
6) My Dandies board makes me happy.
7) Writing on my ongoing project will make me happy once I delete the last page I wrote.
8) I almost wrote 'erase' rather than 'delete' in that sentence. Query for the flist: which is worse, erasure or deletion? They don't feel like synonyms to me, somehow...
9) And here are the last two passages I marked in my Kindle. The first, from midcentury English writer Elizabeth Goudge's Gentian Hill: It was always that these transition times, it seemed, when for a moment nothing owned you and you owned nothing, that you saw things so very clearly.
10) And, from Yeats' folklore collection The Celtic Twilight: The dark powers cling about us, it is said, day and night, like bats upon an old tree.
May you have light even in the rainiest of seasons.
2) My ailing Blonde Dog is not doing well, but she feels well, and is still eating heartily.
3) I require comfort reading.
4) Because of 3), I am saving Tim Powers' Hide Me Among the Graves (the Nephilim! the Rossettis! Dr Polidori's Curse!) for a later date, although it sits gathering gloom on my kitchen table.
5) And I know to put it aside, because I did just read The Stress of Her Regard, the earlier Tim Powers book with the Nephilim, poetry = vampiric curse, and a whole whole bunch o' Romantic poets. It's good, but it's not comforting.
6) My Dandies board makes me happy.
7) Writing on my ongoing project will make me happy once I delete the last page I wrote.
8) I almost wrote 'erase' rather than 'delete' in that sentence. Query for the flist: which is worse, erasure or deletion? They don't feel like synonyms to me, somehow...
9) And here are the last two passages I marked in my Kindle. The first, from midcentury English writer Elizabeth Goudge's Gentian Hill: It was always that these transition times, it seemed, when for a moment nothing owned you and you owned nothing, that you saw things so very clearly.
10) And, from Yeats' folklore collection The Celtic Twilight: The dark powers cling about us, it is said, day and night, like bats upon an old tree.
May you have light even in the rainiest of seasons.