Golden Anniversary

Sonnet 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me prov'd,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.

~ William Shakespeare

Renewal of Vows for Marion W. & David J. Carriker
Led by our brother The Rev. Bruce L. Carriker
Someone once said that the only thing required for a marriage to work is two people too stubborn to give up on each other. Anyone who has known Dave and Marion for any length of time knows they both have a stubborn streak. And we're here tonight because, for fifty years, they've been too stubborn to give up on each other.

The 13th Chapter of Paul's 1st Epistle to the Corinithians is often read at weddings. It is a challenge and a charge to newlyweds, laying out what love requires. But, when we read it tonight, not for newlyweds, but for a couple renewing their vows after fifty years together, we read it as a testimony to their life together; an explanation for how they've made it this far:

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is slow to anger and quick to forgive; it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

There is a scene in the movie Parenthood where the husband, whose marriage is going through a rough patch, is talking to his grandmother; and the grandmother says this:

“You know, when I was nineteen, Grandpa took me on a roller coaster.
Up, down, up, down. Oh, what a ride! I always wanted to go again!
You know, it was just so interesting to me that a ride could make me so frightened, so scared, so sick, so excited, and so thrilled all at the same time!
Some didn't like it. They went on the merry-go-round. That just goes around. Nothing to it.
I like the roller coaster. You get more out of it.”

Dave and Marion will both agree that their marriage has been a lot more like a roller coaster, than merry-go-round. But, they're here tonight to say, in front of all of us, “Oh, what a ride! I want to go again!”

(Dave, Marion join hands. David first, then Marion.)

(Marion/David), 50 years ago I promised to love you, honor you, comfort you, and keep you;
To be by your side in sickness and in health, for better or worse, for the rest of our lives.
Together, we have created a family, a home, and a lifetime of shared memories.
Today, in the presence of God, our family, and our friends, I affirm to you that I love you more now than I did then; that all those promises are still true; and that I will be here for you, for the rest of my life.

Prayer: Gracious and loving God,
We give you thanks for fifty years of blessing Dave and Mation's life together; for the love, joy, strength, support and happiness they have brought to one another; and to those of us lucky enough to be their family and friends.

We ask your continued blessing on them, individually, and in the life they have built together and will continue to build together, all the days of their lives.

You May Kiss the Bride!

Crispin Crispian

Twin Brothers and Patron Saints
of Cobblers, Cordwainers, Tanners, and Leather Workers
In between Michaelmas and Martinmas, comes St. Crispin's Day. How to celebrate? Some traditional foods might be in order, along with a re-reading or re - watching of Shakespeare's Henry V (nevermind the controversy):

This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say "To-morrow is Saint Crispian."
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say "These wounds I had on Crispin's day."
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words—
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester—
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers . . .

~ from Henry V (IV, iii, 18–67)

St. Crispin's Decor ~ Chinese Lantern Plant
Artificial from Menards

Homegrown from My Garden

Welcome Autumn Welcome!

Also 2015 & 2018 & 2019

Not Supposed To Be Any Way

Thanks to my friend Barbara Serratore
for this poster from Purple Clover
Why do I keep forgetting this, even though I'm one of the first people around to quote Toby Maguire / David at the end of Pleasantville, when he tells his mom that it's not supposed to be any way:

Mom: I mean, it's not supposed to be like this.
David: It's not supposed to be anything. Hold still.
Mom: How'd you get so smart all of a sudden?
David: [long slow smile] I had a good day.

Or when Romeo complains:
"There is no world without Verona walls"

Despite the wise advice of Friar Lawrence:
"Be patient, for the world is broad and wide."

Guess what? There are lots of ways!

~ Happy New Year! ~ Happy New Way! ~

Thanks to my friend Donna Postel
for this one from "Let it always be known . . . "

A Day in the Garden

"At Christmas I no more desire a rose . . . "

Oh . . . wait . . . yes I do!

January

February

March

April

May

June

July

August

September

October

November

December

Photographs from the British back gardens
of Rosanne & Ron McCartney ~ Great Crosby
and Tina & Alastair McFadyen ~ Sutton Coldfield

L to R: Tina, Rosanne, Gerry, Ron, Richard ~ August 2015

Better Than Our Word

The Three Conspirators Swear an Oath
on the Ruthli Meadow, 1779
Henry Fuseli (aka Johann Heinrich Füssli) 1741 - 1825

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"Let us once lose our oaths to find ourselves
Or else we lose ourselves to keep our oaths"

from Love's Labour's Lost
by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)

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Couriers

“They were offered the choice between becoming kings or the couriers of kings. The way children would, they all wanted to be couriers. Therefore there are only couriers who hurry about the world, shouting to each other - since there are no kings - messages that have become meaningless. They would like to put an end to this miserable life of theirs but they dare not because of their oaths of service.”

from On Parables
by Franz Kafka (1883-1924)
We've heard it all our lives: you must be as good as your word. Perhaps the real challenge is to be better than our word. To read more about oaths of service and keeping your word and changing your mind ~ apparently easier done than said ~ see my current post:

~ "I Changed My Mind" ~

@ The Fortnightly Kitti Carriker:
A Fortnightly [every 14th & 28th] Literary Blog of
Connection & Coincidence; Custom & Ceremony

More Kafka on Previous Blog Posts:
Little Door
Take Up Your Cross
Sancho Panza
Celtic Blessing
Imperial Messenger
Suffering
Go Over

Our Birthright: The Bright Wild Circus Flesh

Happy 449th Birthday to William Shakespeare!
b. 23 April 1564
d. 23 April 1616

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind."
~ Shakespeare ~
A Midsummer Night's Dream ~ Act I, scene i, 231 - 32

The Circus Rider ~ Marc Chagall

Chagall & Shakespeare just seem to go hand in hand!
[see also last year's post: "Happy 448th"]

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

A birthday poem . . . for Shakespeare . . . and for all of us!
When I Went to the Circus

When I went to the circus that had pitched on the waste lot
it was full of uneasy people
frightened of the bare earth and the temporary canvas
and the smell of horses and other beasts
instead of merely the smell of man.

Monkeys rode rather grey and wizened
on curly piebald ponies
and the children uttered a little cry--
and dogs jumped through hoops and turned somersaults
and then geese scuttled in in a little flock
and round the ring they went to the sound of the whip
then doubled, and back, with a funny up-flutter of wings—
and the children suddenly shouted out.

Then came the hush again, like a hush of fear.

The tight-rope lady, pink and blonde and nude-looking,
with a few gold spangles
footed cautiously out on the rope, turned prettily spun round
bowed, and lifted her foot in her hand, smiled, swung her parasol
to another balance, tripped round, poised, and slowly sank
her handsome thighs down, down, till she slept her splendid body on the rope.
when she rose, tilting her parasol, and smiled at the cautious people
they cheered, but nervously.

The trapeze man, slim and beautiful and like a fish in the air
swung great curves through the upper space, and came down like a star
--And the people applauded, with hollow, frightened applause.

The elephants, huge and grey, loomed their curved bulk through the dusk
and sat up, taking strange postures, showing the pink soles of their feet
and curling their precious live trunks like ammonites
and moving always with a soft slow precision
as when a great ship moves to anchor.
The people watched and wondered, and seemed to resent the mystery
that lies in the beasts.

Horses, gay horses, swirling round and plaiting
in a long line, their heads laid over each other’s necks;
they were happy, they enjoyed it;
all the creatures seemed to enjoy the gameiIn the circus, with their circus people.

But the audience, compelled to wonder
compelled to admire the bright rhythms of moving bodies
compelled to see the delicate skill of flickering human bodies
flesh flamey and a little heroic, even in a tumbling clown,
They were not really happy.
There was no gushing response, as there is at the film.

When modern people see the carnal body dauntless and flickering gay
playing among the elements neatly, beyond competition
and displaying no personality,
modern people are depressed.

Modern people feel themselves at a disadvantage.
They know they have no bodies that could play among the elements.
They have only their personalities, that are best seen flat, on the film,
flat personalities in two dimensions, imponderable and touchless.

And they grudge the circus people the swooping gay weight of limbs
that flower in mere movement, and they grudge them the immediate,
physical understanding they have with their circus beasts,
and they grudge them their circus-life altogether.

Yet the strange, almost frightened shout of delight
that comes now and then from the children
shows that the children vaguely know how cheated they are of their birthright
in the bright wild circus flesh.

~ D. H. Lawrence

P.S.
Added on Len's birthday ~ 30 June 2015

Chagall's Homage to Gogol

Cry of the Masses ~ D. H. Lawrence

Give us back, Oh give us back
our bodies before we die!

Trot, trot, trot, corpse-body, to work.
Chew, chew, chew, corpse-body, at the meal.
Sit, sit, sit, corpse-body, at the film.
Listen, listen, listen, corpse-body, to the wireless.
Talk, talk, talk, corpse-body, newspaper talk.
Sleep, sleep, sleep, corpse-body, factory-hand sleep.
Die, die, die, corpse-body, doesn't matter!

Must we die, must we die
bodiless, as we lived?
Corpse-anatomies with ready-made sensations!
Corpse-anatomies, that can work.
Work, work, work,
rattle, rattle, rattle,
sit, sit, sit,
finished, finished, finished--
Ah no, Ah no! before we finally die
or see ourselves as we are, and go mad,
give us back our bodies, for a day, for a single day
to stamp the earth and feel the wind, like wakeful men again.

Oh, even to know the last wild wincing of despair,
aware at last that our manhood is utterly lost,
give us back our bodies for one day.

Sigh No More

The Pained Heart or Sigh No More Ladies, 1868
by Engish Artist Arthur Hughes, 1832 – 1915
[To view more from Arthur Hughes]

Sigh No More
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more.
Men were deceivers ever,
One foot in sea, and one on shore,
To one thing constant never.
Then sigh not so, but let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into hey nonny, nonny.

Sigh no more ditties, sing no more
Of dumps so dull and heavy.
The fraud of men was ever so
Since summer first was leafy.
Then sigh not so, but let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into hey, nonny, nonny.

William Shakespeare, English (1564 - 1616)
from Much Ado About Nothing

For a few more poems and songs on the significance of a sigh
see my new post:
"Sighs A Plenty"
on the
The Fortnightly Kitti Carriker
A fortnightly [every 14th & 28th]
literary blog of connection & coincidence; custom & ceremony

Tu - whit! Tu - whoo!

Perfect Project for a dark rainy day:
first Jack - o - Lantern of the Season!
"When all aloud the wind doth blow . . .

Then nightly sings the staring owl

Tu-whoo!

Tu-whit, tu-whoo! -- a merry note!"

William Shakespeare
from Love's Labour's Lost

The Full Hunter's Moon: Early Morning, 14 October 2011
Exactly One Week Later: Goodbye Moon!