& it's messing up my entries. Very annoying.
to catch up, just to calm my inner control freak, because for some reason #6 is the only one I had listed here:
Furious Improvisation: How the WPA & a Cast of Thousands Made High Art Out of Desperate Times, by Susan Quinn
Striking Back:the 1972 Munich Olympics Massacre and Israel's Deadly Response, by Aaron J. Klein
Children of the Stone: the Power of Music in a Hard Land, by Sandy Tolan
Poems Have Roots, by Lillian Moore
Greek Fire, Poison Arrows, and Scorpion Bombs, by Adrienne Mayor
yeah, now I have to straighten out the tags..."boochallenge", indeed...!
and laundry going. I'm exhausted already.
I've been working nights for so long that it's really messed up my home life and sleep habits. But I need to stop eating out so much, so if it means getting up early & cooking something (and dealing with the kitchen mess, ugh), guess I'll have to try harder.
I've got to put in for my vacation time soon. I meant to do it earlier, but we had so many people out on medical leave & helping at other stores that they really couldn't spare me. I'd love to take some kind of day trip or two with my dad.
I'd really love to go to Falling Water or Colonial Williamsburg. The former is one of the few sites I've always wanted to see & it would be nice to see the latter again now that I'm older & can appreciate it more.
The idea of actually organizing a trip makes me want to lie down.
It's in the refrigerator, chilling into cakey deliciousness, I hope.
I've heard of these before, but didn't know what they were. Now, thanks to a weekly food challenge com I follow, I have been enlightened...and blown up my Pinterest...and warned my co-workers of incoming.
Times like these, I wish I had a horde of nieces & nephews, or neighborhood kids to aunty. LET ME FEEEEEED YOU!!!! and give you books and maybe slap that cell phone outta your hand and and...
My grandfather said to me
as we sat on the wagon seat,
"Be sure to remember to always
speak to everyone you meet."
We met a stanger on foot.
My grandfather's whip tapped his hat.
"Good day, sir. Good day. A fine day."
And I said it and bowed where I sat.
Then we overtook a boy we knew
with his big pet crow on his shoulder.
"Always offer everyone a ride;
don't forget that when you get older,"
my grandfather said. So Willy
climbed up with us, but the crow
gave a "Caw!" and flew off. I was worried.
How would he know where to go?
But he flew a little way at a time
from fence post to fence post, ahead;
and when Willy whistled he answered.
"A fine bird," my grandfather said,
"and he's well brought up. See he answers
nicely when he's spoken to.
Man or beast, that's good manners.
Be sure that you both always do."
When automobiles went by,
the dust hid the people's faces,
but we shouted, "Good day! Good day!
Fine day!" at the top of our voices.
When we came to Hustler Hill,
he said that the mare was tired,
so we all got down and walked,
as our good manners required.
I FIND THIS UNBEARABLY CUTE. THE CROW IS WELL BROUGHT UP. THEY WALK BECAUSE THE MARE IS TIRED. :D :D :D
...and that's it for now. These poems were all from that book I posted about.
My father liked them separate, one there,
one here (alla y aqui), as if aware
that words might cut in two his daughter'sheart
(el corazon) and lock the alien part
to what he was-his memory, his name
(su nombre)-with a key he could not claim.
"English outside this door, Spanish inside,"
he said, "y basta." But who can divide
the world, the word (mundo y palabra) from
any child? I knew how to be dumb
and stubborn (testaruda); late, in bed,
I hoarded secret syllables I read
until my tongue (mi lengua) learned to run
where his stumbled. And still the heart was one.
I like to think he knew that, even when
proud (orgulloso) of his daughter's pen,
he stood outside mis versos, half in fear
of words he loved but wanted not to hear.
Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl's wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Come when the nights are bright with stars
Or come when the moon is mellow;
Come when the sun his golden bars
Drops on the hay-field yellow.
Come in the twilight soft and gray,
Come in the night or come in the day,
Come, O love, whene'er you may,
And you are welcome, welcome.
You are sweet, O Love, dear Love,
You are soft as the nesting dove.
Come to my heart and bring it to rest
As the bird flies home to its welcome nest.
Come when my heart is full of grief
Or when my heart is merry;
Come with the falling of the leaf
Or with the redd'ning cherry.
Come when the year's first blossom blows,
Come when the summer gleams and glows,
Come with the winter's drifting snows,
And you are welcome, welcome.
Looks like what drives me crazy
Don't have no effect on you-
But I'm gonna keep on at it
'Til it drives you crazy, too.
Everyone wants to get the ball,
Run with it, and score a goal.
But when we win one-nothing,
that "nothing" means everything.
It's tough, playing for nothing.
Defense: Intense immense suspense.