A snowy view
February 23, 2012 § 2 Comments
Some dogs get to sleep inside when a blizzard swirls outside. My shoes often serve as a security blanket. This causes me to wander around the house trying to find them when I must go somewhere.
We watch the snow from big windows.
While the dog dozes, I sort through illustrations my sister has done for my book. Finishing touches are so exciting!
And drink coffee all morning, while snow collects in corners.
Paradelle
February 22, 2012 § 2 Comments
Have you heard of this form? Poet Billy Collins made it up, to parody strict structured forms of poetry, with a footnote following his “Paradelle for Susan” that explains the rules for this (hardy-har-har) “French fixed form . . . of the eleventh century.”
I read the poem without at first realizing that he had made it intentionally awkward, though I did wonder about those dangling prepositions – because even while poetry lets you bend most grammatical rules, this was a bit much. I pointed these out to my mother (also a writer) and said, “Only Billy Collins could get away with that!”
I read the poem again and thought, How unnecessarily difficult!
And then I thought, I need to try it. I have liked writing sestinas, after all.
It turns out that while Collins proposed this form as a joke, subsequent poets have (a) not realized it and/or (b) decided to work with it, anyway. Red Hen Press has even published an anthology of paradelles that I’m curious to page through. So even if the revered Mr. Collins thinks this sort of thing is silly, the word nerd in me enjoys the puzzle, the playing with language.
Here’s some more info about the paradelle story and structure, and some examples: Paradelle, POA.
And here is my first attempt (feel free to give it the good ol’ workshop critique!):
—–
A Paradelle for Change
Where the bluebells end
Where the bluebells end
We come to the edge, laughing.
We come to the edge, laughing.
The end edge where we come
To the laughing bluebells
Is jagged, steep, a mile above
Is jagged, steep, a mile above
The river’s bending path.
The river’s bending path.
Above the jagged path,
Bending river, is a steep mile.
We fear not the gap. Hands hold
We fear not the gap. Hands hold
Together. We unfold our wings.
Together. We unfold our wings.
Our wings unfold, not fear. We, together.
The gap. We hold hands.
Where is the edge? The laughing
River’s mile gap above fear? We come,
We to the blubells, together.
A jagged,steep path. Not the end.
Hands bending, we unfold.
Our wings hold.
—–
Anyone else want to have a go? Send or link me to yours!
Who’s your favorite president?
February 20, 2012 § Leave a comment
Teddy Roosevelt is mine.
From Roosevelt’s 1912 campaign platform: “To dissolve the unholy alliance between corrupt business and corrupt politics is the first task of the statesmanship of the day.”
This guy was an active conservationist, spent tons of time discovering America on horseback, explored the world, and believed that the role of the president was to be “a steward of the people.”
As president, Roosevelt created five national parks (doubling the previously existing number); signed the landmark Antiquities Act and used its special provisions to unilaterally create 18 national monuments, including the Grand Canyon; set aside 51 federal bird sanctuaries, four national game refuges, and more than 100 million acres’ worth of national forests. (www.pbs.org)
No president is perfect, but this one ranks pretty high in my books! Read more about him here.
Poem for a Monday of wind and sleet
February 20, 2012 § 1 Comment
Blow, blow, thou winter wind
Blow, blow, thou winter wind
Thou art not so unkind
As man’s ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.
Freeze, freeze thou bitter sky,
That does not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As a friend remembered not.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.
-William Shakespeare, As You Like It
In all things
February 13, 2012 § Leave a comment
Photo Credit:US National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration
In all things of nature there is something of the marvelous. – Aristotle, Parts of Animals
Robert Frost’s great-grandson’s cattle
February 13, 2012 § Leave a comment
Two roads diverge in the U.S. beef industry. Americans are buying more alternatively raised meat — organic, natural, grass-fed and the like – but most large-scale cattle producers in the Midwest are not cashing in on the trend.
Prescott Frost, however, owns a 6,000-acre operation in the sand hills of northern Nebraska, and he’s betting on alternatively raised beef. Frost is a former stock broker from Connecticut who sold his family’s farmland in Illinois two years ago to come to Nebraska and raise certified organic grass-fed beef. He has about 600 cattle.
The link for the rest of the article is below. I caution you to ignore the comment about change needing to come from “educated people from the city.” I disagree. While I understand what he’s getting at, this is the kind of overgeneralization that smacks of inaccuracy and quite honestly, offends. Still, the rest of the piece is worth a read. Robert Frost wasn’t all that joyful a farmer, but farming appears to have stayed in the genes.
Taking the grass-fed road less traveled | Harvest Public Media.
Herding dog
February 13, 2012 § Leave a comment
Meet Muñeca.
Muñeca is my friend Mae Rose’s canine companion at the ranch when she goes out to see to the sheep. The 8-month-old border collie could scarcely hold herself back as we approached the herd – though, good girl, she stayed with us on the four-wheeler until bid otherwise. This is the look she gets on her face: sheer determination. To her, sheep must be herded, and by golly, she is the one who should do it.
Want to see her at work?
Sandpiper
February 9, 2012 § 6 Comments
When I was maybe thirteen, we were reading a collection of short stories as a family (we were great readers, together and on our own). I don’t remember the name of the book, but one story told of a woman who had gone to the beach to deal with her grief. She befriends a little girl at the edge of the water, a child with a tendency to find the happy things of the world. The girl has leukemia, or something like that, though the woman doesn’t know this until later on. If I’m remembering correctly, the child dies. But the girl loved sandpipers, and left the woman with a drawing of one and a bidding to be joyful (again, if memory serves me . . . has anyone else read this tale?). The title of the story I do remember: “A Sandpiper to Bring You Joy.” This phrase comes to mind so often for me, at random times, and always when I come across anything to do with sandpipers. I love it, and I don’t know why, except perhaps because of how it involves such a small, natural thing offered for the uplifting of another’s spirit.
Photo Credit: US Fish & Wildlife Service
So. Here you go. A sandpiper to bring you joy.
Kinds of Honey 