A lemon tree in a pot, from an old issue of Just CrossStitch. [Actually, when I opened the webpage, the design I'm doing was shown at the top right corner.]
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Underway
A lemon tree in a pot, from an old issue of Just CrossStitch. [Actually, when I opened the webpage, the design I'm doing was shown at the top right corner.]
My weekly post is up at The IDDblog. It's entitled "How to read a poem, part 1." Take a look!
[And if you're a regular reader, comment! It's very sad when you write a piece and a week later there are 0 comments.]
[And if you're a regular reader, comment! It's very sad when you write a piece and a week later there are 0 comments.]
The Transfiguration
Today is the Old Calendar feast of the Transfiguration, when Christ went on Mount Tabor with Peter, James, and John and shone like the sun. I didn't make it to church this morning because I haven't been sleeping well (which is such a terrible excuse). But I did the first canon for the feast this morning--it reminded me that even when I'm not in a parish situation (i.e., when I go back to school) I can still do things.
"When Thou was transfigured on Mount Tabor, O Christ Our God, Thou didst show Thy glory to Thy disciples as far as they could bear it. Let Thy everlasting light illumine also us sinners, through the intercessions of the Mother of God. Giver of Light, glory to Thee!" (Troparion of the feast)
I have a lot planned for today--hopefully it will be a productive and blessed one.
"When Thou was transfigured on Mount Tabor, O Christ Our God, Thou didst show Thy glory to Thy disciples as far as they could bear it. Let Thy everlasting light illumine also us sinners, through the intercessions of the Mother of God. Giver of Light, glory to Thee!" (Troparion of the feast)
I have a lot planned for today--hopefully it will be a productive and blessed one.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Small pleasures
[As an aside, before the actual post, I haven't been responding to comments recently. I'm so sorry about that! I really try to make it a point to respond to each, but this summer has been a strange one in terms of online activity and one of the things to get cut has been responses. Fall should see me returning to more regular posting and commenting habits.]
We had a glorious storm yesterday. Everything was turned to slate blue and green and grey. And the air was so full of the smell of rain. There's a great exultation in a really good storm that makes me go all Bronte--want to run outside and stand in it. Or maybe I mean Marianne Dashwood. I didn't, but I wanted to.
Instead I went down to the church bookstore and kept it open, although no one came but delivery men. Mused on the similarity of the bookstore to a fortress against the storm and the fittingness of the same. Connected it to Ely Cathedral--the Ship of the Fens. And then felt slightly embarrassed over the ramblings and Elizabeth Goudge-ness of it all.
The storm is gone this morning and it's currently sunny. I'm eating a fasting burrito (lettice, walnuts, onions, refried beans and salsa) and considering a Course of Action. I'm hoping today will be a good writing day (I've been revising my 2007 NaNoWriMo novel) but if it's going to be, I have to actually sit down and do it.
This has strayed a bit far from the title, hasn't it? The storm is a pleasure, the burrito is a pleasure. The writing is sometimes a pleasure, but most of the time it's just hard work. Harriet Vane and Lord Peter are a pleasure, but not a simple one. On the contrary, they seem to grow in complexity every time I re-read the wonder that is Gaudy Night. Which I did recently, in case you couldn't tell.
We had a glorious storm yesterday. Everything was turned to slate blue and green and grey. And the air was so full of the smell of rain. There's a great exultation in a really good storm that makes me go all Bronte--want to run outside and stand in it. Or maybe I mean Marianne Dashwood. I didn't, but I wanted to.
Instead I went down to the church bookstore and kept it open, although no one came but delivery men. Mused on the similarity of the bookstore to a fortress against the storm and the fittingness of the same. Connected it to Ely Cathedral--the Ship of the Fens. And then felt slightly embarrassed over the ramblings and Elizabeth Goudge-ness of it all.
The storm is gone this morning and it's currently sunny. I'm eating a fasting burrito (lettice, walnuts, onions, refried beans and salsa) and considering a Course of Action. I'm hoping today will be a good writing day (I've been revising my 2007 NaNoWriMo novel) but if it's going to be, I have to actually sit down and do it.
This has strayed a bit far from the title, hasn't it? The storm is a pleasure, the burrito is a pleasure. The writing is sometimes a pleasure, but most of the time it's just hard work. Harriet Vane and Lord Peter are a pleasure, but not a simple one. On the contrary, they seem to grow in complexity every time I re-read the wonder that is Gaudy Night. Which I did recently, in case you couldn't tell.
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