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Wednesday, November 28, 2012

"The whole visible universe is but a storehouse of images and signs to which the imagination will give a relative place and value; it is a sort of pasture which the imagination must digest and transform."

--Baudelaire


Rain in copious amounts. A home teaching jaunt with my companion to see a couple of families in the early afternoon to finish off the month. Quick lunch (hot dog w/ mustard) gobbled down. Picked up a bale of hay at the feed store; and back home.

Need an idea to fix the plumbing bug-a-boo. It's raining, so access to the leak is ridiculous. I'm thinking turning off the water for the majority of each day. We've enough water pressure to shower and other daily chores. I just don't like the leak carrying on all day; the well might be run to much causing money going down the drain electric-usage-wise.

Edited a few poems again from the past: "The Sitting" and "Haunted by Hydrangeas": 





                                         The Sitting

              
You're early, my dove, how impetuous you seem.
O, count me a fool for my boldness !
Unfrock yourself of your cloak, my dove, and lay it by the fire. Please
repair to the sitting room once more.

The ghost walks, I'll warrant - judging the coin purse you carry.
Indulge me, my dove, as I gather my paints.
My heart is aquiver from love's misspent shafts. Do not fail me now !
Enchanting. Allow me to move the fauteuil to better capture the light.

Is your master well? He is generous to a fault.
Sit so. Chin up. Up, as I finish your painting.

Gold. Aureolin gold to match your soul as a final wash
of watercolour to finish your portrait.
Never so lovely.
Never so lovely.
And done. Now indulge me one last thing.

Come sup with me one last time, my dove,
of jonquil root, leaf, flower, and sage;
made fresh for our repast. To steal you away as mine.
Eternity ! Breathe deep the heady savoury, my dove. And sleep.

4/21/2011 r. 4/22/2011 r. 4/26/2011 r.11/28/2012

   Haunted by Hydrangeas


Am I the tardy guest
this Midsummer Eve
Silver with the breeze
Or melancholy - watching
Two dancers, divinely fair
spinning dreams in the aire !
 
8/22/2011 r.5/16/2012
r.11/28/2012



Odie, our large orange fluffy kitty, graced me with his presence and left fur on the keyboard. Reminds me of our kitty, Princess (not "Nimshew Princess Claire de Lune" [from years past]) who passed on not too long ago before reaching her first birthday. She was a beautiful ragdoll featured ball of fluff, several months younger than Odie and his playmate. Oh, how Gail and I miss her sweet disposition ! So only 4-indoor cats now, two of which are outdoors during the daytime when not raining, Odie, Scooter-Pi. Tai-Tai (Tiger), and Taffy-Doodles.

Only 5-outdoor kitties left from the "herd": Frisky, Animal, Smoke, Spooky, and an unnamed black cat that was dumped on us a number of months ago. Hard to believe we once had 20-kitties all at once, once upon a time.

Other pets: Gail's horse Tara (I think short for tarantula, or Tyrannosaurus, or Ta-ra-ra-boom-ti-a, or tarradiddle... not sure), and Maddie (Pooper Dog, or Poop, as I call her), and two goldfish that I refer to as Wanda and Cosmo from "The Fairly Odd Parents".

I've been reading "The Poetry of Robert Frost" edited by Edward Connery Lathem off and on. I've enjoyed "The Road Not Taken" and "Christmas Trees" but not much else I'm afraid. I find his other poems rather ponderous for some reason; but then I'm only 2/5's through the book so far. Emily Dickinson remains my favorite poet to date. I think I'll visit LitNet tonight for some poetry perusal, discussion, and perhaps a write or two or so... I've been absent for about 5-months now... don't know why.


C'ya.  
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