November 2017

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Nov. 27th, 2017

that kind

I have a new post up at Vary the Line, featuring pumpkins and angry riffs prompted by Anne Sexton: http://www.varytheline.org/blog/2017/11/27/that-kind/

Some other time, I might write about the recent day a girlfriend and I spent in Florence, Alabama, where we visited Rosenbaum House, Alabama Chanin, and FAME Studio. Good eats at the Chanin Factory, and some scribbling there as well.

The factory also had a BIG rack of free postcards, and a stack of Doug Jones brochures right up front. So I grabbed one of every blank card of Alabama origin, and spending part of tonight writing yet more postcards to voters: http://postcardstovoters.org.

This entry was originally posted at https://bronze-ribbons.dreamwidth.org/413641.html. I see comments at DW, IJ, and LJ (when notifications are working, anyway), but not on feeds.

Nov. 12th, 2017

"a tree that's standing by the water side"

[The subject's line from "We Shall Not Be Moved." A Mavis Staples recording is playing while I type.]

Postcard to Alabama


http://postcardstovoters.org

Election Day is Tuesday, December 12.

This entry was originally posted at https://bronze-ribbons.dreamwidth.org/413239.html. I see comments at DW, IJ, and LJ (when notifications are working, anyway), but not on feeds.

"a tree that's standing by the water side"

[The subject's line from "We Shall Not Be Moved." A Mavis Staples recording is playing while I type.]

Postcard to Alabama

http://postcardstovoters.org

Election Day is Tuesday, December 12.

This entry was originally posted at https://bronze-ribbons.dreamwidth.org/413239.html. I see comments at DW, IJ, and LJ (when notifications are working, anyway), but not on feeds.

Nov. 4th, 2017

Jewish American writing

In this year's edition of "The Greats," T Magazine included essays by three Jewish American novelists. The final paragraphs of each essay -- as they should -- kick and stick.

Nathan Englander:


It's partially the idea of shifting identity that drew me, all these years later, to a character who is American but Israeli, who is both patriot and traitor, who inhabits more than one self, by virtue of being a spy.

That's what I latch onto when thinking about contemporary American Jewish novels engaging with Israel, the ideas revolving around fluidity, of borders drawn and redrawn, of changing landscapes and altered realities. As for my initial discomfort with being labeled, I don't know if it's age that has changed me as much as the current climate here, in America, my home. But I'm telling you, with white supremacists resurgent and wielding power, this pulled-pork-loving, drive-on-Saturdays secular Jew has never been happier to be called a Jewish-American Novelist. One yarmulke isn't even good enough for me, these days. I'm writing this with a half-dozen stacked, like pancakes, on top of my head.


Nicole Krauss:


As Israeli artists, inventors and youth claimed [Tel Aviv], the culture they began to pump out was the antithesis of the one at large that grew out of a diasporic, Ashkenazi, religious, post-Holocaust idea. Instead, it was a modern, secular, Middle Eastern reality without cultural precedent. For the first time in the country's history, there was new Israeli music, food, art and humor that reflected the physical and emotional reality of a fraught and urgent Jewish existence whose context is Arabic rather than European. It's no coincidence that Israeli society hijacked the narrative of itself around the time that modern Hebrew, also forcibly willed into fresh existence, fully caught up with the complex conditions of the lives of its native speakers: For language itself is generative, and to be able to describe is to be in the possession of creative power.

So it is that diaspora Jews find, for the first time in 2,000 years, that they can’t claim Israel as their idea, or its reality as an extension of their own. However related, it is something authentically other now, and the Jews of America and Europe, most of whom don't speak Hebrew, have only narrow access to the inner conversation of Israeli being, and can only look upon it from the uneasy position of being neither inside, nor yet entirely outside, beyond the range of its consequences. Israel, which is making sense of itself, has confused our own sense of being, and the novel goes straight toward that confusion, just as it will always go toward heat, toward what is still undecided and so most alive.


Joshua Cohen:


Jews in America are always being called upon to declare their loyalties--which of our identifiers do we put before the hyphen, and which do we put after: "Jewish" or "American"? This recurrent query--which Jews in America ask themselves with all the breeziness of an online test, and anti-Semites in America ask with all the gravity of an Ellis Island examination--is inevitable but pointless. Jews are more secure in contemporary America than they have been in any other country in Jewish history. This is because America is a country in which the citizens define the ideologies, not the other way around. This, ultimately, is what the fundamentalists hate: America’s constitutive capacity for change, which they regard as the evil face of self-determination. Nazis, Klansmen, ISIS--all fundamentalists resent the mutability of human life and the fact that, in a technologized world, no manner of racial or ethnic or religious or cultural purity can ever be guaranteed, as if an "inalienable" right.

The country I dream of is a place in which all humans are free to take their indoor voices out into the streets, both as proud members of families — however myriad, however defined — and as their own liberated individual selves. America has been this country only rarely; Israel has been this country almost never. The one country I've ever lived in that's consistently fulfilled this dream has been the Novel.


This entry was originally posted at https://bronze-ribbons.dreamwidth.org/413133.html. I see comments at DW, IJ, and LJ (when notifications are working, anyway), but not on feeds.

Oct. 31st, 2017

"You talk of liberty / How can America be free?"

For the second night in a row, my evening plans got borked by logistical fail, but there are worse fates than sipping rosé while listening to Mark Knopfler singing "Sailing to Philadelphia" (about Jeremiah Dixon) while writing postcards to get out the votes for Ellen Geisler (Pennsylvania Commonwealth Court):

https://postcardstovoters.org/
http://etsy.me/2yjJtB8 (discounted postcard-stamp combos)

This entry was originally posted at https://bronze-ribbons.dreamwidth.org/412871.html. I see comments at DW, IJ, and LJ (when notifications are working, anyway), but not on feeds.

Oct. 6th, 2017

Excuse me for flying, and for denying...

The subject line comes from "The Crafty Mistriss's Resolution, which appears in Wit and Mirth; or, Pills to Purge Melancholy, which is quoted by Graham Christian in his presentation of the 17th-century dance "Excuse Me."

These videos chronicle some of the English country dances enjoyed in Atlanta a couple of weekends ago. The list was originally compiled by Barb Katz (I added two vids and dropped the photo album). I'm wearing my gray Girls to the Moon / Ladies of Space tee and a long gray skirt in the workshop dances, and a teal cocktail dress at the ball; my favorites among these are "Noisette," "Horseplay," "Mr. Isaac's Maggot," and the two Blue Heron Waltzes. ("Wa' Is Me, What Mun I Do?" is my heart's tune, and I greatly enjoyed dancing it with Barb, but the sound/band do better in other iterations.)

The Fandango
https://youtu.be/MUxaIaOA04E

Noisette
https://youtu.be/FVEeTvqMo7c

Horseplay
https://youtu.be/oIwI7Jj33Ng

Mad Robin
https://youtu.be/MhBv7l8cFdo

The Bishop
https://youtu.be/jSQDt18wwYQ

Apollo's Hunt
https://youtu.be/5w05tYrUQi4

Blue Heron Waltz (workshop)
https://youtu.be/SZFgPuEYO6s

Blue Heron Waltz (at the ball)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XAliw1Umulg

Corelli's Maggot
https://youtu.be/7247oNnDvj4

Mr. Isaac's Maggot
https://youtu.be/eYp0bryJsVc

Trip to Tunbridge
https://youtu.be/Axr9MMdrqH0

Wa' is Me, What Mun I Do?
https://youtu.be/vkrUbXWl0Lo

Alice
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Is3DsgzZ_Q0

ETA 10/9:
Impertinence
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S_H3GQCiI_o

This entry was originally posted at https://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/144226.html.
Tags:

Excuse me for flying, and for denying...

The subject line comes from "The Crafty Mistriss's Resolution, which appears in Wit and Mirth; or, Pills to Purge Melancholy, which is quoted by Graham Christian in his presentation of the 17th-century dance "Excuse Me."

These videos chronicle some of the English country dances enjoyed in Atlanta a couple of weekends ago. The list was originally compiled by Barb Katz (I added two vids and dropped the photo album). I'm wearing my gray Girls to the Moon / Ladies of Space tee and a long gray skirt in the workshop dances, and a teal cocktail dress at the ball; my favorites among these are "Noisette," "Horseplay," "Mr. Isaac's Maggot," and the two Blue Heron Waltzes. ("Wa' Is Me, What Mun I Do?" is my heart's tune, and I greatly enjoyed dancing it with Barb, but the sound/band do better in other iterations.)

The Fandango
https://youtu.be/MUxaIaOA04E

Noisette
https://youtu.be/FVEeTvqMo7c

Horseplay
https://youtu.be/oIwI7Jj33Ng

Mad Robin
https://youtu.be/MhBv7l8cFdo

The Bishop
https://youtu.be/jSQDt18wwYQ

Apollo's Hunt
https://youtu.be/5w05tYrUQi4

Blue Heron Waltz (workshop)
https://youtu.be/SZFgPuEYO6s

Blue Heron Waltz (at the ball)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XAliw1Umulg

Corelli's Maggot
https://youtu.be/7247oNnDvj4

Mr. Isaac's Maggot
https://youtu.be/eYp0bryJsVc

Trip to Tunbridge
https://youtu.be/Axr9MMdrqH0

Wa' is Me, What Mun I Do?
https://youtu.be/vkrUbXWl0Lo

Alice
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Is3DsgzZ_Q0

This entry was originally posted at https://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/144226.html.
Tags:

Excuse me for flying, and for denying...

The subject line comes from "The Crafty Mistriss's Resolution," which appears in Wit and Mirth; or, Pills to Purge Melancholy, which is quoted by Graham Christian in his presentation of the 17th-century dance "Excuse Me."

These videos chronicle some of the English country dances enjoyed in Atlanta a couple of weekends ago. The list was originally compiled by Barb Katz (I added two vids and dropped the photo album). I'm wearing my gray
Girls to the Moon / Ladies of Space tee and a long gray skirt in the workshop dances, and a teal cocktail dress at the ball; my favorites among these are "Noisette," "Horseplay," "Mr. Isaac's Maggot," and the two Blue Heron Waltzes. ("Wa' Is Me, What Mun I Do?" is my heart's tune, and I greatly enjoyed dancing it with Barb, but the sound/band do better in other iterations.)

The Fandango
https://youtu.be/MUxaIaOA04E

Noisette
https://youtu.be/FVEeTvqMo7c

Horseplay
https://youtu.be/oIwI7Jj33Ng

Mad Robin
https://youtu.be/MhBv7l8cFdo

The Bishop
https://youtu.be/jSQDt18wwYQ

Apollo's Hunt
https://youtu.be/5w05tYrUQi4

Blue Heron Waltz (workshop)
https://youtu.be/SZFgPuEYO6s

Blue Heron Waltz (at the ball)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XAliw1Umulg

Corelli's Maggot
https://youtu.be/7247oNnDvj4

Mr. Isaac's Maggot
https://youtu.be/eYp0bryJsVc

Trip to Tunbridge
https://youtu.be/Axr9MMdrqH0

Wa' is Me, What Mun I Do?
https://youtu.be/vkrUbXWl0Lo

Alice
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Is3DsgzZ_Q0

This entry was originally posted at https://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/144226.html.
Tags:

Oct. 4th, 2017

gonna keep on a-walkin', gonna keep on a-talkin'

A local radio station has been playing an ad with Mavis Staples the past couple of weeks. Which in turn reminds me of the Ysaye Barnwell workshop I participated in a couple of Junes ago, which included improvising verses to "Ain't Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me 'Round."

==

From Bill Penzey's latest e-blast:

One of the things I admire most about conservatives is their sincerity in their belief that they take responsibility for their actions. As Lincoln said, we can all be fooled some of the time; there is no shame in that. The trick is to not fall into the crowd that can be fooled all the time. What matters is what you do next; you can dig your heels in and become what you've stood up against your whole life. Or you can simply make amends and move on.


==

Resources:
https://5calls.org/
https://jenniferhofmann.com/home/weekly-action-checklist-democrats-independents-republicans-conscience/
https://calvinslist.org/

This entry was originally posted at https://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/143987.html.

Sep. 30th, 2017

"the NFL does not need to fear taking a knee"

Today's subject line appeared in yesterday's newsletter from Bill Penzey, who posted "an open letter to America's CEOs about our experiences in facing right wing calls for boycotts," which can be read here and has received 47,000 likes to date.

Hubbard squash seeds

I roasted some Hubbard squash seeds tonight, along with the rest of the squash, an aging potato, and a spaghetti squash, serving some mashed squash with kielbasa. Earlier today I fried pancakes and eggs and baked a loaf of whole-wheat bread. I'm sipping chai brewed with some spices from the aforementioned Penzeys.

Another Asian American East Nashvillian who knows music and food is Alex Wong, who's donating the first month of his Patreon proceeds to Puerto Rico. Some of you may recognize him from Vienna Teng's tours.

I was so tired this morning that I went back to bed after the pancakes, and I'll be turning in before midnight tonight since I'm singing tomorrow. I've become a tad amused at how singing and dancing -- my bolder activities, if you will (timid performances serve no one well) -- actually keep me in line, since I try to get adequate rest and am cautious about consuming caffeine and other potential inflammatories before significant gigs or gatherings.

This entry was originally posted at https://bronze-ribbons.dreamwidth.org/412491.html. I see comments at DW, IJ, and LJ (when notifications are working, anyway), but not on feeds.

Sep. 17th, 2017

now I assemble things that resemble whatever used to be

Today's subject line is from "Fanfare in D Major (Come, Come)," by Grant Hart, who died of cancer a few days ago. I'm listening to a bunch of his songs as I prepare dinner, and damn if his voice doesn't take me back to being 17, to one of the few aspects I care to remember. Warehouse: Songs and Stories holds a special place in my heart as one of the two record reviews I published (and earned checks for!) that summer. (The Replacements' Pleased to Meet Me was the other.)

Depeche Mode performs less than 3 miles from my house in about 24 hours, and 15 years ago I would have been raring to go, deadlines and sleep deprivation and budget notwithstanding. Instead, I'll go to a dance lesson if I can wrap up work in time, and hope to hit the hay before the concert's even over, and if those things don't happen, maybe I'll crank up "Where's the Revolution?" to an unseemly volume while I crunch through whatever needs to be catapulted through its hoops.

But, grumpy as I feel about not feeling up for things (this !@#%@ cough: !@#@!#!% it!), small pleasures abound. I spent part of my afternoon writing to the childhood friend who introduced me to Depeche Mode, and I had a baseball stamp to use on the envelope. I have a new batch of bread dough rising, and snipped thyme from my yard for fried rice. It is far simpler to contact public servants now that my phone plan has unlimited long distance. (The calls themselves don't rate as a pleasure, but it is nice not having to faff with Skype and other workarounds, or -- going further back -- constantly calculating how much each call was going to cost.) The rosebush is still blooming, as are the zinnias. There is a huge pile of ironing, and there is Italian wine in my glass. :)

This entry was originally posted at http://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/143821.html.
Tags:

Sep. 16th, 2017

we are billions of beautiful hearts

The subject line is from P!nk's "What About Us":

]

September 17 is Constitution Day in the United States.

  • My friend Katy boosted the signal on the "We the People" jewelry by Slow Factory (proceeds to the ACLU, hoop earrings become available this Monday): https://slowfactory.com/


  • A certain medal pin collector tried to drag Kaep for not mentoring guys in the hood. That sound you hear is New York and Tampa clapping back:







  • I've given the NYT pieces of my mind at least twice this year, and link to them probably less than 1/8 of what I used to, because [profane rant redacted here], but the wedding section remains a guilty pleasure, in part to glimpse how other connections are made:


    "Melissa you’re going to like this guy," she recalled Amanda Lynch, a former Harvard roommate, telling her. "He has the preamble to the Constitution tattooed on his back."


  • At the New York Public Library (which will star in a documentary that comes to my town next month), there are people meeting monthly to write out the Constitution by hand. [NYT]


  • Andrew Johnson


  • Tennessee's Andrew Johnson was a very, very, very flawed man, but when I first learned about him (in my US Presidents coloring book), what the one-page biography stressed was his profound love of the Constitution, and how he was buried with a copy of it under his head.


  • political cartoon

    This entry was originally posted at http://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/143610.html.

    Sep. 10th, 2017

    delicacies and cats

    This NYT photo essay on wagashi is cracking me up -- elegant portraits of sweets with cats:

    Sweets as Poignant as Poetry

    This entry was originally posted at http://bronze-ribbons.dreamwidth.org/412311.html. I see comments at DW, IJ, and LJ (when notifications are working, anyway), but not on feeds.
    Tags: , ,

    delicacies and cats

    This NYT photo essay on wagashi is cracking me up -- elegant portraits of sweets with cats:

    Sweets as Poignant as Poetry

    This entry was originally posted at http://bronze-ribbons.dreamwidth.org/412080.html. I see comments at DW, IJ, and LJ (when notifications are working, anyway), but not on feeds.
    Tags: , ,

    Sep. 9th, 2017

    getting the whirlwind settled

    There is a mental metric ton of paperwork I must plow through tonight, and I don't wanna, plus the US Open women's singles final was this afternoon, which means the garbage bins are significantly cleaner (and I even went at some of the grodier corners with q-tips), some ancient dog shmutz has been scrubbed off a kitchen window, some recent hackberry shmutz has been wiped off the car windows and handles, leftover tiles from our 2009 bathroom renovation delivered to Turnip Green, and assorted leftovers incorporated into tastier hodgepodges (the last of the white wine from the freak bottle that sent glass into my cleavage has been blended with bargain-bin oranges and fruit salad dregs; the asparagus I defrosted and then forgot about has been scrambled into some eggs), and while I shall desist from dealing with the nearly-on-the-wrong-side-of-the-compost-bowl potatoes until tomorrow (possibly putting them into a lazy woman's version of potato nik), there is bread dough rising on the other end of the kitchen counter.

    This morning I volunteered for the dragon boat festival, a fundraiser for the Cumberland River Compact. I ended up helping one of the Buddhist temples set up their tent, distributing oars, helping rowers in and out of boats and (un)tying said boats from the docks, and ferrying lifejackets to and fro. It was a good fit for what my brain and body needed after this week (which included one editing push that went past 4 a.m. and another work-thru-lunch-and-dinner haul yesterday), especially since I'm still coughing too much to dance or go to shows. After my shift, I played cornhole with one of the "Best Little Oarhouse in Tennessee" paddlers and a mother-daughter pair, and watched some of the dance-offs. One emcee was beside himself when a temple team busted into a rehearsed version of The Wobble. Next year I'll try to plan the day so that I have time to fly a kite.

    It was likewise tempting to continue avoiding the paperwork put in much more time on the yard, but I confined myself to adding water where needed and clearing enough of a bed to plant the "whirlwind" anemone into its new spot (as well as putting the rosemary and thyme into proper pots):



    When I checked on planting distance and depth, I had to look up the word "friable." Which was enough to get a new poem going as well.

    This entry was originally posted at http://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/143137.html.

    Sep. 4th, 2017

    priorities


    ...Audrey had approached her husband, Grey, in the kitchen of their Ludington Lane house to say that she planned to marry Ted. She realized that "something was lacking" in their marriage; she considered Grey self-sufficient, she told him, "but Ted needs me." The cardiologist had stood silent for a moment as though he were thinking all this over.

    "Who," he asked finally, "is going to do the driving?"

    "Why, I guess I will," Audrey replied, astonished.

    "Good," he said. "I don't want any wife of mine marrying a man who drives the way Ted does."


    - Judith & Neil Morgan, Dr. Seuss & Mr. Geisel: A Biography

    This entry was originally posted at http://bronze-ribbons.dreamwidth.org/411763.html. I see comments at DW, IJ, and LJ (when notifications are working, anyway), but not on feeds.

    Sep. 3rd, 2017

    eyes caressing the world



    I am annoyed about being sick, but also fine with how it simplified my weekend, and relieved that I heeded my gut in refraining from making plans to head east, even though I'd looked with longing at the Old Farmer's Ball program for today (Mount Hills! Good Man of Cambridge! Picking Up Sticks (which contains sheepskin heys, which one teacher regards as proof "that hallucinogenic drugs were available in the 17th Century")!). Instead, I got up early, fried pancakes and eggs, and then went back to bed. Then the rest of the day was split between making phone calls, cleaning, tennis-watching, and catching up on some of the yardwork. Having belatedly read the full tag for the "Sky's the Limit" rosebush, I shaped its water basin and tied the two longest branches to stakes; admired the new yellow buds and the green tomatoes nearby; planted the geranium, tomato, and cactus cuttings; yanked and clipped and dug and hauled...

    The subject line is adapted from Dawn Potter's recent post about Keats. "Dirt has its beauties" also would've worked, come to think of it.

    My plan for dinner had been to make a tomato tarte tatin, but that was before I realized the box in my freezer contained not puff pastry but regular pie crust. Plus, after I finished dealing with the onions, I was feeling less inclined to follow the rest of the steps. So instead I shifted to Emeril's recipe for an onion and tomato pie, and while I didn't have most of the ingredients on hand, it provided enough guidance to get things good enough for my dinner plate. The final mash-up was along these lines:

    * Chop one onion plus a couple of slices salvaged from a chunk in the crisper. Sautee in butter until soft.
    * Defrost one frozen pie crust in microwave. Frown at soggy mess, abandon attempt to unroll it, and mash it across bottom of pie pan.
    * Dump foil and pie weights on top and bake at 375 F for ten minutes or so.
    * Chop half of a tomato. Realize the recipe probably advises slices instead. Sure enough. Slice other half. Season with the dregs of thyme-laced salt a friend had given me for Christmas two years ago, plus some black pepper.
    * Startle the bloke reading in his car just outside my driveway (I'm guessing a tourist) as I scamper out in my nightgown to snip some basil and thyme.
    * Mix one egg with the dregs (about 4 T) of Duke's mayo from the fridge. (Today was a great day for using things up; I also pitched some ancient spices into the compost bowl and shredded the iffy salted lemons in the sink.)
    * Gingerly pour pie weights (aka old beans I've used for more than a decade -- probably nearly two) into mixing bowl and collect the ones hopping onto the floor.
    * Scatter some panko over the crust.
    * Lay the slices of tomato on the crumbs, in a pattern like a quilted star. Spoon half of the cooked onion bits into the spaces between.
    * Scatter herbs and a heap of gorgonzola cheese over the veg. Drizzle with half of the egg-mayo sauce.
    * More tomato. More onion. More sauce. More breadcrumbs. Some olives.
    * Bake for 30 minutes? I set the timer for an hour, but took it out earlier when it looked and smelled done enough. And then ate half of it.

    This entry was originally posted at http://bronze-ribbons.dreamwidth.org/411474.html. I see comments at DW, IJ, and LJ (when notifications are working, anyway), but not on feeds.
    Tags: ,

    Sep. 2nd, 2017

    fermenting in a barrel

    Today's subject line comes from a letter Elizabeth Bishop wrote to Robert Lowell on July 18, 1950:


    Just had a visit from the Dutchman who works here & writes poetry incessantly. I hope he wasn't one of your problems too. One poem this time is about his soul fermenting in a barrel of sauerkraut. He's so grateful to God for sending him such marvelous ideas, but personally I'm afraid God is playing tricks on him.


    My head cold is now a chest cold, so no ASL-interpreted Winter's Tale for me tonight. Also, deadlines. But there are happy and spirit-lifting things as well:

    * My 86-year-old neighbor blowing a kiss back to me as I unloaded groceries.

    * Crabcakes.

    * Jaime Anderson's My Body, My Choice, which appears on page 26 of Teen Vogue (Volume III 2017) as background to a Mad Libs-style poem by Nadia Spiegelman.

    * Speaking of artists, check out the turtles, kitties, etc. at You're Awesome Design Machine (full disclosure: the artist is my big brother's partner).

    * A friend from Brooklyn replied to a text with a galloping unicorn. I would normally block that sort of thing faster than you can say "Roy G. Biv," but I am in fact LMAO.

    * Progress on divesting from three problematic companies.

    * Vary the Line is ramping up again. New posts by Sherry Chandler, Dawn McDuffie, and Lisa Dordal, as well as my first draft of Aubade.

    * The sun tattoo in the photo with the poem is still on my arm, as are the moon and stars.

    * The ACCURATE Nashville Statement, y'all. And Downtown Presbyterian doing its thing (among its many other fine doings).

    This entry was originally posted at http://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/142852.html.

    Aug. 26th, 2017

    whirlwinds in and out of pots

    On my way home from this morning's workout, I stopped at Bates Nursery, mainly because I have a large Christmas cactus frond, one tomato cutting, and one geranium-from-Desire offshoot waiting to be established in fresh soil. I was not planning to acquire any plants, since I could easily occupy myself for several years with the weeding and trimming that needs to be done, but their English thyme looked great and as long as I was buying herbs, why not some golden lemon thyme and rosemary as well? But it was the "Whirlwind" Japanese anemone that I picked up, put down, walked past, and then came back to claim:

    Japanese anemone

    Japanese anemone

    [I am out of practice with both blogging and taking photographs, not to mention a great many other things. Please to bear with me...]

    [ETA: FFS, the images looked fine in preview mode. I'll get the hang of the sizing specs someday...]

    What is growing again or anew with/for you?

    This entry was originally posted at http://zirconium.dreamwidth.org/142826.html.

    Aug. 9th, 2017

    Kodak rolling stone

    A friend treated me to dim sum at Hei La Moon earlier this week, and amiably agreed to share a plate of black sesame rolls among the other dishes I pointed at (turnip cakes, Chinese broccoli, and har kow).

    I didn't really manage to explain how the dessert inspired a fic I wrote seven years ago, but we agreed that it was delicious.

    Also in Boston: Friendly Toast with [personal profile] marginaliana, tea with [personal profile] okrablossom, and more radish/turnip cakes at Gourmet Dumpling House and Bubor Cha Cha. Diversions included four hours of paddleboarding on the Charles and an evening with two good-with-children cats named after Jabberwocky terms (plus the children and their parents).

    Prior to Boston: a week in Plymouth. Much dancing (and paddling, and a bit of swimming, including some skinny-dipping under the nearly full moon). Much to digest. Much more to learn. But first, unpacking (and getting through more of the 350+ emails that had arrived in my work inbox while I was off the grid).

    This entry was originally posted at http://bronze-ribbons.dreamwidth.org/411354.html. I see comments at DW, IJ, and LJ (when notifications are working, anyway), but not on feeds.
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