Monday, October 23, 2017

ABC Wednesday
October 25th, 2017
The letter is P for Polliwog


Do you remember,
or did you ever
bring a bucket of frog spawn home with you
from the lake, or the pond???

And then watch it,
day by day, as the eggs developed into tadpoles
and then the tadpoles into
polliwogs.

The word "polliwog" comes from the old English
"polwygle"
Pol meaning head
and Wygle - to wiggle.

And how they do wiggle!!

Here is a nice poem by Albert Garcia
entitled "Frog Eggs'

They started as a small slime
of black dots.  After
wading through the pond
you and the boys,
sloshing a plastic bucket,
poured brackish water
into a clear bowl, and there
they were, a little jelly packet
of lives that grew daily
under our magnifying glass.
They're turning flat,
you tell me as you peer in
this afternoon, and I admit
I'm as caught up in this
as the boys who announce
any wiggle, any sign
of the tail, legs, gills.
But I'm content
to watch you watch the eggs, you
hovering over the bowl,
hair encircling your face
like dark ferns surrounding a pool
before a waterfall,
holding, accentuating the light.


and a light video on the life of a frog
hosted by Kermit!!!






There must be something to be said
for those lazy, hazy
polliwog days!!!

For more Ps visit here at ABC Wednesday
with thanks to those who maintain this meme.

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

O is for Owl

ABC Wednesday
October 18th, 2017

O is for Owl, and for Mary Oliver


Little Owl Who Lives in the Orchard

by Mary Oliver

His beak could open a bottle,
and his eyes - when he lifts their soft lids -
go on reading something
just beyond your shoulder -
Blake maybe,
or the Book of Revelation.

Never mind that he eats only
the black-smocked crickets,
and dragonflies if they happen
to be out late over the ponds, and of course
the occasional festal mouse.
Never mind that he is only a memo 
from the offices of fear -

it's not size but surge that tells us
when we're in touch with something real,
and when I hear him in the orchard
fluttering
down the little aluminum
ladder of his scream -
when I see his wings open, like two black ferns,

a flurry of palpitations
as cold as sleet
rackets across the marshlands
of my heart,
like a wild spring day

Somewhere in the universe,
in the gallery of important things,
the babyish owl, ruffled and rakish,
sits on its pedestal.
Dear, dark dapple of plush!
A message reads the label,
from that mysterious conglomerate:
Oblivion and Co.
The hooked head stares
from its blouse of dark, feathery lace.
It could be a valentine.

Lots more interesting Os here, at ABC Wednesday
with thanks to those who maintain this meme.



Sunday, October 15, 2017

Swan Lake (Part 7)



Sunday Evening
October 15th, 2017

This afternoon I watched 
Anthony Dowell's legendary production of Swan Lake, 
which includes designs inspired by Imperial Russia of 1895, 
when the ballet was first performed.

A few weeks ago I watched Swan Lake
 as performed by a
 less dramaticaly costumed company.

Very beautiful
 but lacking the verve 
which you will see if you watch the video above!

Sorry for the poor quality of the video, 
but even with the little flashing interruptions
 I found this fun to watch....

This is part 7 of the production..
Youtube has videos of the rest of this production
of Swan Lake
(in small portions)
which you might be enticed to watch
if you are a ballet fan.....

If not, perhaps you love children dancing???

Along with Tchaikovsky's beautiful music


.






Friday, October 13, 2017

The garden in October

October 13th, 2017

I had meant to post this earlier.

The title of this poem is

October 10th

and it describes so beautifully

the little jungle out the back,

we call the garden.

Now constantly there is the sound,
quieter than rain,
of the leaves falling.

Under their loosening bright
gold, the sycamore limbs
bleach whiter.

Now the only flowers
are beeweed and aster, spray
of their white and lavender
over the brown leaves.

The calling of a crow sounds
loud - a landmark - now
that the life of summer falls
silent, and the nights grow.
Wendell Berry

I have just come in from walking with Bruce 
in the quickening dusk of autumn.


Reading Wendell Berry I am reminded
of our early days farming,
and the part Louis Bromfield played
in our philosophy of farming,
and his influence on us
in establishing a flock of sheep
in the orchard.

An early Wendell Berry.

I search the shelves for his 'Malibar Farms"
but it seems to have disappeared
(probably on the shelves of one of the children)
and I have to be content with his novel
'Early Autumn'

It takes me back.
and the memories are so good....




Monday, October 09, 2017

Ogden Nash and his search for his Noumenon

ABC Wednesday
October 11th, 2017

The letter is N for Nash and Noumenon

Ogden Nash, 1902-1971


  1. A writer of droll and humourous verse
with unconventional rhyming

and spelling.

Regarded with great respect by the Literary Establishment!

A collection of his books have been on my shelves

since the mid forties...

and in the one entitled "Good Intentions"

is this verse.

"Has anybody seen my Noumenon"

There is one point which I am more than human on,
And that's a noumenon.

On due reflection we are apt to find
That it is noumenons which lead us to believe that just this once
two pairs will beat three of a kind.

It is noumenons which whisper to our heart
that our futures will be better than our yores

And noumenons which encourage us to laugh off
the black clouds in the west and go ahead
and move the supper table out of doors.

It is noumenons which convince you that you can meet
the next tax installment without have set aside
the sum that is requisite,

And noumenons which stir the fancy that M. Lavel
may someday reject an order from Berlin with a cry
of "Ze hequisite."

It is noumenons which, if you have no excuse
for flouting natural laws, they supply it,
Such as kindlng the hope that you can remain trim
and lissome at forty without the nuisance
of exercise or diet,

So now I shall go out and consume a hearty lunch,
but I know I shall remain trim and lissome in spite of it,
because I have a strong noumenon,
or overwhelming hunch."

Which brings us to the point where we must define a noumenon

Ogden Nash interpretation

* an object known only by intuition,
apart from any evidence of the senses.

In other words,  existence without sense or perception

can't see, can't touch

KANT explains all this in his philosophy
but I think I go with Nash

"an overwhelming hunch"

easier than trying to interpret Kant

More Ns here at ABC Wednesday
enjoy, with thanks to those who maintain ABC





Friday, October 06, 2017

October 6th, 2017

Early in the Garden

I do rise early
partly because by six o'clock my knees are whining and whingeing 
and begging to be up and moving, 
and partly because I know Bruce has one ear cocked
 and is about to clatter down the hallway, 
waiting to go out and greet the morning.

This morning was no exception.
It was dusky when we first arose
but by the time
I had pressed the button on the coffee maker
daylight was brightening
and soon the air was suffused
with a most beautiful rosy glow.

Bruce bounded out to greet the day...
I went more sedately with my ipad....
both of us glad to be out and about!

The garden was quiet 
with the lovely early morning stillness
autumn brings.

I took some pictures,
and some of them so delighted me I have them
in my header, up above.

Here are a few more...





and in the house a whole day of weaving awaited me....


Life is good!!





Monday, October 02, 2017

ABC Wednesday
October 4th, 2017

The letter is M for Mother




Dorothy Emily Grace

February 16th, 1902 - October 4th, 1957

A beloved and endearing inspiration
for whom I have an enduring love

Her favourite song



Her cross was the illness and pain
that she bore to the end of her life
with the utmost grace and patience.
She was renowned for her cheerfulness and understanding!
Best Mum ever......

I remember her with deepest love on the 60th anniversary of her death.

More Ms here at ABC Wednesday.....