11.20.2013

the thankfulness post

I hate what feel like cliched, false thank yous. I have gone so far as to "hide all posts from user" for people who are doing that awful "30 days of thankfulness" bit on facebook.

That said, I am thankful, and moreso for the less-than-obvious things. So you're getting a list in a blog post.

I am thankful for:

  • Pillsbury's Roan Red. It is my favorite, favorite wine. 
  • Joley being a creative child, even though I spend not nearly enough time with her, and lord knows I need more patience, but she gave an impromptu concert on her guitar at school today, and she wore flowered leggings under a tutu, and she just wrote a story in which she accidentally hitched a ride on a bald eagle when she was trying to hug the ceiling of her house. 
  • people listening when I talk about my program. I don't know how or why, but they listen, and I am grateful. 
  • Colin's good taste in music. Not my taste, exactly, which I am also thankful for, but good taste.
  • the thank you I got from a student today.
  • unexpected houseguests.
  • turtleneck sweaters, especially in green.  

11.09.2013

things I like, vol. 44


The Acrobat Sublime.

. . .



Much better than a grandfather clock.

. . .


Prospective Immigrants Please Note
by Adrienne Rich

Either you will
go through this door
or you will not go through.

If you go through
there is always the risk
of remembering your name.

Things look at you doubly
and you must look back
and let them happen.

If you do not go through
it is possible
to live worthily

to maintain your attitudes
to hold your position
to die bravely

but much will blind you,
much will evade you,
at what cost who knows?

The door itself makes no promises.
It is only a door.

. . .



Scarves (and other things) with crowdsourced designs. Found one today at Nordstrom's Rack; may not be able to take it off.

. . .



A bedroom like a cocoon, which is what I want. Minus the hydrangeas. I hate hydrangeas.

. . .



Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward.

. . .



A beautiful catch - the mirrored poses, the contrast between them - perfect.

. . .



Long live Wonder Woman.

. . .


I feel like I really ought to go live in France to really master the French Paradox diet, but in the meantime, I'm using it as my excuse to keep drinking a lot of red wine.

. . .



Like looking through a window.

. . .



From here.

. . .





A beautiful article on how they make Hermès silk scarves. That's a hand-rolled hem, above.

. . .



The adorable magnet the shopkeeper at Red Elephant Imports gave J this morning. They had a really nice variety of items - lots of them from Latin America - but had pillows with Beatles portraits on them, too. It's a good place for Christmas presents, as we start approaching that season.

. . .





. . .


I'd always loved "Walk on the Wild Side," but I didn't really start to discover Lou Reed until after he died (the same way I discovered Vonnegut, incidentally). His wife's tribute in Rolling Stone is both heart-wrenching and beautiful:
I guess there are lots of ways to get married. Some people marry someone they hardly know – which can work out, too. When you marry your best friend of many years, there should be another name for it. But the thing that surprised me about getting married was the way it altered time. And also the way it added a tenderness that was somehow completely new. To paraphrase the great Willie Nelson: "Ninety percent of the people in the world end up with the wrong person. And that's what makes the jukebox spin." Lou's jukebox spun for love and many other things, too – beauty, pain, history, courage, mystery.

There's been a lot of death in the world, lately.