Wednesday, September 25, 2024

In My Bookbag

Catching up after
summer break . . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The family, that dear octopus
from whose tentacles we never quite escape,
nor in our innermost hearts, ever quite wish to
.
~ Dodie Smith ~
From her play Dear Octopus

Also lovely: her novel / movie: I Capture the Castle

Above:
New Octopus Bookbag
Thanks Beata!

Below:
Recent Book Blogs:

July ~ With Liberty and Justice for All

August ~ Land Value Tax

September ~ Naomi Shihab Nye

Facebook Photo

Tuesday, September 24, 2024

Chicago Haiku

Sam was telling me about going for a walk in Chicago,
and I turned his comments into a haiku:

The color palette
of Chicago: blue, silver.
Shades of the city.



***************

Scenes from the DNC 2024
Thanks ~ Peggy Morris!

Monday, September 23, 2024

A Black Cat for All Seasons

Calling all Black Cats: Register to Vote!
Back in May, I realized it was time to take down the Easter / Spring wreaths but didn’t really have anything summery or any little flags for Memorial Day, So — instead of holding out for Halloween — I jumped straight to my new black cat. After all, it’s ALWAYS Black Cat Season around here, right?

By adding a red, white, and blue bow, we were all set for Memorial Day, the 4th of July, Bastille Day and Labor Day!
Now it's time to change back to orange for Fall!
Outside looking in . . . Inside looking out
The Real Black Cats: Interior Decor!

Sunday, September 22, 2024

The Harvest Moon Has Come

Wendy Andrew ~ Painting Dreams

The Harvest Moon

The flame-red moon, the harvest moon,
Rolls along the hills, gently bouncing,
A vast balloon,
Till it takes off, and sinks upward
To lie on the bottom of the sky, like a gold doubloon.

The harvest moon has come,
Booming softly through heaven, like a bassoon.
And the earth replies all night, like a deep drum.

So people can't sleep,
So they go out where elms and oak trees keep
A kneeling vigil, in a religious hush.
The harvest moon has come!

And all the moonlit cows and all the sheep
Stare up at her petrified, while she swells
Filling heaven, as if red hot, and sailing
Closer and closer like the end of the world.

Till the gold fields of stiff wheat
Cry 'We are ripe, reap us!' and the rivers
Sweat from the melting hills.


by Ted Hughes
from Season Songs (Faber & Faber)

[More about this poem]

More poems by Ted Hughes
Leaves
The Warm and the Cold
Daffodils
Cat and Mouse

The Waxing Harvest Moon

The harvest moon has come . . .

the autumnal equinox has come . . .

and Quotidian blogposts have resumed for the season!

P.S.
There was also this fingernail moon back in July!
And our corner in August.