This has been Introverts Week. You know, those people who are thinking, “How long can we make this social distancing thing last?” It’s also Quilting Day, so get out those crafts, and World Poetry Day, so get out those books, and Healthy Fats Day (I got nothin’, maybe snort some fish oil?). Me, I’m celebrating today as the International Day of Forests because I live in the woods and the trees are coming back from winter, which means that everything has its season, and this too shall pass. Keep safe, Argh People.
Also this was posted in one of my Rav groups, and I laugh every time I see it:
62 thoughts on “Cherry Saturday, March 21, 2020”
Bwahahaha. This reminds me of Max the cat and the Library.
My high school English teacher had us memorize a lot of poetry and I’m truly grateful for that, even if I can’t always remember it all word for word. I had her for 3 out of my 4 years of high school, so when I say a lot, I mean a lot. She also let you memorize extra poetry for extra credit and I usually did at least a few. She passed a kid who was failing once b/c he memorized all of The Raven and recited for the whole class.
She claimed it was a good brain exercise and I will say when my college professor had to change our final at the last moment (she was due to have a baby any day) she changed it to memorizing the opening lines of “Paradise Lost” and it was much easier for me than a lot of my classmates b/c I had so much practice. I know it used to be very common as an educational exercise, but I’m a Gen X person (or an old Millenial, I guess) and I don’t find many people my age who learned how to memorize.
So now lots of bits of poetry rattles around in my head. The one I can remember most easily without any prompting or double checking at all is the opening of “Cantebury Tales.” “Whan in Aprille with his shoures soote. . . ” Maybe that’s b/c it’s so rhythmic and the words are so strange.
We also had to write poetry and we kept it all in notebooks that we could add to year after year. I lost my notebook or it got thrown out somehow and I’m still bummed about it 20 years later.I’m not a poetry every day kind of person. I kind of have to be in a mood. But I think now might be one of those times.
The drought of March has pierced to the roote.
I had to memorize that in college. Then as a high school teacher, I occasionally required memorizing. I did it too to prove it could be done.
Twas brillig and the slivy toves . . .
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe . . .
(Apologies for spelling if I got those wrong)
. . . All mimsy were the borogoves and the momeraths outgrabe.
I LOVE THAT POEM.
Come to my arms, my beamish boy . . .
Oh frabjous day! Calloo, callay!
Remember the mome wraths, but can’t remember what they actually did (your outraged has confused me). Will have to look it up.
Outgrabe. That’s what the mome wraths did.
This poem isn’t autocorrect friendly!
!@#$%^ autocorrect, do NOT CHANGE OUTGRABE. Bastard bot.
And they changed “wabe” to “wage” and “moderates” to “moderates.” AAAAAAAAARGH.
Although there is something about moderates outraging that amuses me.
I still have my notebook, though it’s stuff I liked, not all poetry, not stuff I wrote. That’s in a file folder.
My favorite bit of poetry recently was something I read on Twitter that was a take on William Carlos Williams “This is Just to Say” and was about this is just to say I used the toilet paper that you were probably saving…
I’ve been using scraps of Shakespeare for counting out 20 seconds for handwashing. Hamlet’s “to be or not to be” and ending with “take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing them, END THEM” is pretty gratifying. I’ve been working on learning Lady MacBeth’s “out out damn spot” and yesterday realized Aeriel’s “full fathom five” would also work.
Oh, now I must go re-memorize those. I had them and lost them.
Also Macbeth’s “Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, creeps in [this] petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time and and all our yesterdays have lighted [fools] the way to dusty death.” (I checked to make sure, the stuff in brackets is the words I missed or got wrong, that stuff sticks with you.)
That speech is depressing, so maybe not, but that’s the one that stuck with me. What I remember about Lady M’s (besides the “out, out, damned spot” and “all the perfumes” bit) is “The Thane of Fife, he had a wife, where is she now?” That’s the line that convinced me she didn’t understand what she’d done because she couldn’t understand how the man she loved had killed women and children. Killing men was what he did for a living, so no big deal to kill the king, but how could he have slaughtered babies?
Hamlet always just annoyed the hell out of me. Quit waffling around, Ham, or people are going to die . . .
Oh, now I see why that’s appropriate.
The Preamble to the Constitution is also good.
Take arms against a sea of BUBBLES!
Love the cat, I’m crafting, finishing UFOs day for me, finished a small crocheted elephant, working on quilt squares
I have a poor neglected work in progress and I would like to say firmly that I am spending the day working on it. Truthfully though I’ll probably end up reading.
Loved the cat.
Thinking of poetry is making me sad because I lost a bunch I wrote when I moved. Lately I’ve been wanting to re-read 2 of them.
One I wrote about the feelings I get when I listen to Lips Like Sugar by Echo and the Bunnymen. I tried listening to it again but couldn’t redo the poem.
The other was a masterpiece of a paradelle about Tom Hardy’s lips and Steve McQueen’s blue eyes and someone else’s something. I worked on that for days and will never be able to write it again.
Ha! The eyes on that cat are mesmerizing.
I left my two rabbits with a bunny sitter once. I stressed that she shouldn’t give in to their pleas for more food and treats, not to fall for their “I’m so hungry” act.
She didn’t, but her husband and kids all did. Both rabbits gained a pound each in the week I was gone.
It was their soft pleading eyes, twitching noses, and ridiculous ears, combined with them hopping around the food bowl and then picking it up and throwing it at people.
This is very impressive! When it comes to poetry, I am much more lowbrow. The rhythm to this poem immediately came to mind after Chaucer petered out with the shoores percing the roote or the drouthe (or whatever it was) and so on. This is the poem that started reciting itself in my head:
I am not a poet. I am, for my sins, a filker. There being no consensus on what filk is, this is an easy title to own. In essence, I have written alternate words to be sung to another tune. For the celebration of Halfway Night on the USS George C. Marshall, SSBN 654 (B), I wrote a musical I titled “Clean Up Ship.”
Let me unpack that a bit. Halfway Night was a celebration of the midpoint of a Strategic Nuclear Deterrent Patrol, a patrol being generally 75 straight days underwater, hidden in the ocean and prepared to rain hot nuclear vengeance on our enemies, should they attack. Halfway night consisted of skits and card games and whatever amusements a bunch a sailors could contrive. I contrived a musical.
I don’t remember it all, but there was one done to the McDonalds jingle of that time, and one to Simon and Garfunkle’s Sounds of Silence named “Mung in Bilges.” Best of all, as the editor of the ship’s underground newspaper, I got to publish it all. I wish I still had a copy.
My husband does this all the time. This being makes up alternate lyrics to songs. I did see on Twitter a great alternate set of lyrics to one week by Barenaked Ladies where the alternate lyrics are all about the Covid virus and how it will be one week or one month or one year before we all see each other again. She did a great job!
I love it! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o0APPIOxunM
Underground newspaper on the submarine: good one! 😊
It was underground in the sense that it was not approved by the Chain of Command. Submissions were anonymous. Only 10 copies were printed and passed around by hand.
I also love filk — this WOULD have been the weekend of Consonance.
We wish you did, too.
Finishing up an editing gig that’s due on Monday, then going back to the baby blanket I started knitting. I’m hoping to get several done through this time for a service project through my church. Planning a cover reveal for the new Four Irish Brothers Winery book for next week and thinking I may have to go with sideswept bangs for a while because my hairdresser has closed her salon, actually all the salons around me are closed. Maybe she’d make a house call, but I’m not counting on it. Trying to keep Son’s spirits up–he’s worrying and when he worries, I worry. Grandboy lost a tooth and looks cuter than ever. Also, I want pie.
All the salons are closed?!? It’s going to get ugly out there…
I got my hair dyed pink in December. I like it, mind you, but I had figured I’d have to redye it in April or so for a play. Now it is very weird to think I am going to have pink hair (with huge roots) for the next 18 months at least.
I’m not a big fan of poetry. The one I tend to quote the most is “my beard” by Shel Silverstein. “ My beard grows to my toes. I never wears no clothes. I just wrapped my hair, around my bare, and down the road I goes.” It might actually be applicable for those working from home eventually. Except for the down the road it goes part.
I do intend on quilting this afternoon. I have oodles of quilting to do.
I’m also going to whine just a little bit here. As an introvert, I am really tired of all the extroverts who keep contacting me. I haven’t actually had much of a chance to enjoy being home and not having to interact with people. They keep contacting me. I look in my email inbox and all I see are companies trying to help me engage with others. Thanks, but I’m good. I’m still waiting for this alone time to kick in. I see postings on social media of people challenged by it being day five and they’re feeling isolated. I don’t feel like I even have reached day one. I will confess it is probably easier both being introverted and not having children in the house for me to feel like this. Okay, stopping the whine.
Lastly, healthy fats. Avocados, nuts, seeds, & olives are all foods that will provide healthy fats. So have some guacamole or nut or seed butter and toast maybe with a bit of honey. Portion sizes matter, though, but otherwise all good!
I second your whine, or I would if it were actually happening to me. (I am still working–animals don’t stop getting sick when their humans do–but only three days a week. Am blissing out tonight that I don’t have to go anywhere but the grocery and the drugstore until Friday!) No one is contacting me, except my friends in about the quantity they usually do, i.e., not much.
Today is laundry day, thank goodness for the on-demand water heater! I was able to get in a few, and by few I mean 6, minutes of work today which is 6 more than yesterday but I still only made $3.90. I’m going to go upstairs in a few minutes and start cleaning then I’m going to hide in my sewing room and get some things done. I’m going to make a list of projects I want to finish and start doing them. And actually finishing them.
I’ve decided I’m going to try making a small crazy quilt. I have lots of different fabric scraps and small pieces and I’m going to give it a whirl. I do have a big piece of soft stuff to be the back.
Paul put his very first picture up on Instagram, I tagged it with #workingwednesdaypix in the comments. It’s going to be a vase when it’s done.
I hadn’t thought of poetry as a marker for hand washing time. I just get my hands wet and lathered up and then count to 20. Boooring. Macbeth is way more interesting.
That cat looks like my friends’ late cat, Duster. He was a big, fat, wild-eyed, bossy orange cat too and he would have definitely traded all the toilet paper for treats. His still-grieving cat mommas are looking at adopting a pair of bonded brothers. That made me happy.
Aw, I thought of another poem that may be appropriate for current conditions.
“Strictly Germ-proof” by Arthur Guiterman
or as I always thought of it “The Antiseptic Baby and Prophylactic Pup.”
I’ve never memorized it, but my dad knew it by heart and used to recite it a when ever anyone talked about germs. Keep washing your hands everybody and best wishes:-)
Lyrics. I saw an obituary this morning for the singer Kenny Rogers. Many many years ago, my younger sister loved to torture me with her singing/shouting of his song “Lucille.” I couldn’t stand that song. We would be going someplace with my parents and I’m trapped in the back seat with her and this look of glee would come over her face and….. #@%&. argh. The only thing that saved her were there were witnesses.
When I saw that obituary, that song became today’s ear worm. I’ve heard it so many times that I know it by heart, no matter how much I wish I didn’t.
The only song I absolutely cannot stand is “Having My Baby.” It makes me want to kill every male within strangling distance.
Also that one by that country dickhead who gloats over a woman’s divorce because she wouldn’t go out with him in high school, even after he wrote her phone number on the football field (“How Do You Like Me Now,” I think. He’s also the dickhead who led the backlash against the Dixie Chicks, so I really hate him and his music.
There are plenty of other songs that set me off but Amen! to both of those you mention. Don’t the Dixie Chicks have a recent album release? I think they were planning to promote it on Colbert JUST as the whole world became COVID-19 24-7 and their appearance was scrubbed.
Yep. Must get that, too. I love the Chicks, they sang all the way through Agnes.
The Long Way Round album was the soundtrack of my 30s for a lot of reasons.
I hate I adore Him by the Angels (looked them up due to Jersey Boys)
Like Whoever’s New England by Reba McEntire, I like the music, the lyrics just make me angry.
Oh, there are a LOT of those. Like the Pina Colada song, which is so hummable and about two horrible people who deserve each other.
At least they got each other.
The people whom they richly deserved.
I can’t stand TK–or that song.
I always thought there was something personal (that went wrong) between TK & Natalie Maines, because they were just so hateful to each other.
Team Dixie Chicks all the way. And I love that their album “Taking The Long Way” went to number one, even without country radio play. This was their first album after the ruckus.
“Having My Baby” came out when I was 10. So as an adult, I understand. But my 10 year old self thought it was romantic.
I absolutely hate “Blinded By The Light”. Even as a kid, I thought it was stupid.
I also hate “Smile Away” by Paul McCartney.
If the lyrics annoy me, then I’m done. 🙂
Hey, everyone, can you please do me a favour? Paul has put his first post on Instagram and I was hoping some of you would like it. I think it’s really nice and worthy of likes anyway but it’s his first post and he doesn’t have a lot of Insta friends/followers. It’s tagged with workingwednesdaypix.
There we go.
I have no instagram account, so I can’t comment there, but that’s going to be gorgeous. The wood colors are just luscious.
Well this is annoying. instagram hasn’t been showing me all of the #workingwednesdaypics postings. Grrr. Argh. That’s why I joined IG.
The vase looks amazing!
I’ve got the same problem. It did in the beginning, but recently it’s been haphazard. So every so often, I go there deliberately and catch up. DailyFeb was the same. It may be because I’m viewing iInstagram in my browser rather than using the app.
I’m using the app, so I think it’s just Instagram. I too will now check on occasion.
Hi, I’m not on Instagram, but I followed the link tell Paul i ❤️ his vase 🏺
I am going somewhat stir-crazy today. It snowed half a foot on Thursday night, and is going to get up to almost sixty degrees today, which means the yard is a sludgy, muddy mess. My dogs are thrilled and want to go outside every five minutes, but only so they can chase each other through the biggest puddles and then immediately come inside and track mud everywhere. If I do not let them do this, they alleviate their boredom by scream-barking at every “thump” on the roof (which is mostly falling clumps of snow/ice, but occasionally a squirrel, so they are covering all the bases).
Meanwhile, everyone I know is calling, texting, emailing, and wanting to set up more Zoom video conferences. Some of this is people checking in on each other, some of it is because we are organizing our community to help each other in various ways, some of it is because everyone is just losing their minds. It is nice to connect with people; it is exhausting to deal with them all. Also, I keep getting halfway through a Zoom call and then suddenly remembering that I am not wearing a bra, haven’t brushed my hair, or am otherwise firmly in “working from home” mode instead of “ready to be seen by others” mode. Whoops.
In other words, my Introverts week is too loud, and includes too many people. And I am a big complainer, who should probably spend more time appreciating how fortunate I really am. Or at least go read a book for a bit.
Some of my friends are posting links to instructions for sewing
face masks. Didn’t people have to knit bandages during WW I?
Time for me to go read.
Surely not knit them. I’d imagine cut crepe into strips and roll them up? But I was thinking this morning that it might come to having to make myself a mask.
Yep, there’s a Slack channel for coordinating the making/distribution of masks. I spent some time yesterday trying out some patterns and not liking any of them much. I’ve got a new one I think will be better, but I’m not sure I understand the instructions, so I need to play with it a bit to be sure. If you want to join the Slack group, send an email for an invitation to: firstname.lastname@example.org
You can see my early attempts at Instagram (@ginjonesmysteries) The patterns are all easy enough, but I like the options that 1) use ties instead of elastic, which can be irritating after a while, and the ties are more adjustable for a variety of users, and 2) have an option for inserting a real filter between the fabric layers and then removing it for washing the mask.
I was thinking that crochet or knit masks that were lined with something might be the answer because they’d be soft and the lining would be the protective part. And if it was winter, that probably would work, but I don’t see myself with a fuzzy face mask in August. Upside: PATTERNS.
Yeah, they’re recommending 2 layers of tightly woven cotton (or cotton/poly, although I think that might be too hard to breathe through). Optionally, a filter can be added between layers. Rumor that vaccuum filters (are there hepa ones? I sweep, don’t vaccuum) might work. No medical confirmation on that though.
I have air cleaner filters that are thin black permeable plastic. It’s a two filter system and the other part is a one-inch thick hard cardboard framed paper filter, so that wouldn’t work, but I have a lot of black flexible stuff that’s about a quarter of an inch. That could be ideal if it’d work.
“Carbon Filter removes odors, VOC’s and captures large airborne particulates” although I don’t think the virus is “large” this would help with the whole droplets thing, especially if sandwiched between layers of fabric.
Chemo group looking for made masks, I believe with patterns. Sewn, some with wire for nose fitting.
Love the cat! I’m sewing the masks Audrey mentioned. They’re easy and fast and I hope useful.
My mom was very sensitive about several poems. I knew that if I stood behind her while she was washing dishes and I started reciting “If Nancy Hanks Came Back as A Ghost” or “Little Boy Blue” her shoulders would begin to shake and in seconds she’d be sobbing. Nancy Hanks was Abraham Lincoln’s mother who tries to find out how her son turned out. “Little Boy Blue” is by Eugene Fields and describes the toys and dolls waiting in their places in his bedroom for a little boy who has died.
I took an online genealogy class. The best line was from a case study: “Her parents were Rabbits so we looked in the next parish.” It was so Alice in Wonderland that I nearly fell out of my chair laughing
I love that! We used to have a problem in online genealogy boards [you can tell how many years ago that was] when someone was searching for a family surname Black. Other surnames would go into the subject line in a standardized format, but the board censor wouldn’t allow those requests to go through.
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