Another Druidic Holiday + Some Unrelated Information

Today is Samhain, the Druidic equivalent of New Years Day. It's not an equinox or solstice, but rather one of the "quarter days," along with Beltane (May 1, the big spring fest) and Imbloc and Lughnasa, celebrated February 1 and August 1, to mark the end of winter and summer, respectively. (I know a lot about the pagan calendar for a Lutheran.)

In other news, I think a dog would be even better than an imaginary boyfriend. I found one online! (Don't laugh--I found the last real boyfriend onlne. And many nice pairs of shoes.) This is Joe. Help me convince my roommate Joe is necessary for my happiness.

Maybe inspired by old boyfriends both imaginary and real, I've been listening to the Schubert song cycle "Winterreise" (Winter's Journey) again. There's an incredibe, poignant, creepy song at the end called "Die Nebensonnen," or The False Suns. (Which I hear is a real phenomenen called parhelion: on very cloudy, snowy days, you see the clouds refracting many suns.) Here are the lyrics:

I saw three suns in the sky;
I gazed at them long and intently.
And they, too, stood there so fixedly
As if unwilling to leave me.
Alas, you are not my suns!
Gaze into other people's faces!
Yes, not long ago I too had three suns;
Now the two best have set.
If only the third would follow,
I should feel happier in the dark.

I don't think German translates very well, but it's exquisite with the music, trust me. The liner notes for the recording I have are delightful: "In the stature of this music, the traveller seems at one with the great mystics like St. John of the Cross, who wrote of 'The Dark Night of The Soul.' Never has the composer used his beloved key signature of A major and its inevitable contrast with A minor to more enobling effect."

I'm Only Going Trick-or-Treating If They Hand Out Xanax

I've decided it's time to re-adopt a habit I formed in my youth and get an imaginary boyfriend (past ones included Peter O'Toole and Schubert). My new imaginary boyfriend will be a combination of the David Bowie character from Labyrinth (we knew nothing good could come from that) and Sherlock Holmes. I just can't decide whether his name should be David Holmes or Sherlock Bowie.

I Say Oyster, You Say:

So I spent the weekend cooking and knitting again. (I know.) I made oyster chowder, and remembered this passage from the sixth Little House on the Prairie book, By the Shores of Silver Lake:

"First, there was oyster soup. In all her life, Laura had never tasted anything so good as that savory, fragrant, sea-tasting hot milk, with golden dots of melted cream and black specks of pepper on its top, and the little dark canned oysters at its bottom."

That was New Year's dinner, 1880, in the middle of what would become North Dakota. In all her life, Laura had probably never even tasted an oyster.

Thursday Night Guilty Pleasure

David Bowie is brilliant, Jim Henson was brilliant, I'm suddenly 10 years old and going to some now-forgotten girl's basement sleepover party--it's Labyrinth! I have to confess I own the soundtrack, and the track during the ballroom scene is actually pretty fab, as far as lyrics go. Here, I'll share them!

"There's such a sad love
Deep in your eyes, a kind of pale jewel
Open and closed within your eyes
I'll place the sky within your eyes

There's such a fooled heart
Beating so fast in search of new dreams
A love that will last within your heart
I'll place the moon within your heart

As the pain sweeps through
Makes no sense for you
Every thrill has gone
Wasn't too much fun at all
But I'll be there for you-oo-oo
As the world falls down
Falling
Falling down
Falling in love

I'll paint you mornings of gold
I'll spin you valentine evenings
Though we're strangers till now
We're choosing the path between the stars
I'll lay my love between the stars..."

And then you repeat the chorus a few times while some Muppets dance around. Anyway, you have to love lyrics that spell out the "you-oo-oo's" and remind you of when you were 10. Especially when sung by David Bowie.

Said In A High Kitty Voice:

(Thanks to Miss Amber for cheering me up with this. Who wouldn't be cheered up, I ask?)

Chestnuts (Not Roasting)

Looks like what I thought was a picture of Bombay Sapphire on yesterday's post was instead an advertisement. Damn advertisers. My apologies. (The picture today, by the way, is of chestnuts.) I do like chestnuts. From W.B. Yeats: "O chestnut tree, great-rooted blossomer,/ Are you the leaf, the branches, or the bole? O body swayed to music, o brightening glance,/ How can you tell the dancer from the dance?"

Things That Go Through Your Head While Making Risotto

1. Boy, this takes a long time.

2. What is the etymology of gin, anyway?*

3. I blame the books of my young adulthood for a lot.

4. "I am Lazarus, come from the dead
Come back to tell you all, I will tell you all."

5. I want a curly grey dog. I would call him Sasha.

Item 4 is T.S. Eliot, from "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock." I almost never remember that part; I think having to help (well, cut) my roommate out of his mummy costume this past weekend brought it to mind. (Long story. But look how literature is appropriate for any situation!)

*from the Dutch word for juniper, "genever". Who knew?

Uncollected

You may have noticed from the posting times lately that I'm pretty much rolling out of bed and writing something--maybe not the best plan, since it leads to obcervations like this:

1. Orrin Hatch's re-election billboards (of which there are two I have to see on the way home from my parents' house) make him look like a cadaver.

2. The word "whiskey" came from Scottish Gaelic uisge beatha and Irish uisce beatha, both from the Latin aqua vitae, or "water of life."

Tomorrow: The etymology of gin! Oh, boy!

Knitting, Part 1

I didn't get the finished project photographed last night, but really, the UNfinished projects are so much more impressive:

We have an ivory scarf for a birthday present in the front, the bluetocking sock yarn, a sample skein of the grey alpaca that will be the travelling cloak (for me), red merino/cashmere tweed for a Christmas scarf for my roommate, two kinds of varigated yarn for a secret Christmas present, a second green fingerless glove for a welcome-home present, and some "gingersnap" colored yarn for a chunky vest for me.

But I did get the black alpaca shrug done. Slowly but surely...

Books of My Childhood

Watch out: I got a package yesterday of paperbacks I loved as a "young adult" (that is, an 11-15 year old). Yes, one of them is a horse book: My Friend Flicka has a sequel, Thunderhead. (There's a third to make a triolgy, but it's out of print.) The other two are by Lucy Montgomery, the author of the beloved Anne of Green Gables series. Watch out, indeed.

I know pictures have been scarce this week. I've been meaning to take pictures of some knitting projects, both finished and un. I'll try to get that done tonight.

Karma

Guess who was on the daily update at Blue Moon Ranch today? Aww....

Recovering

As much as I can intellectually accept that change is part of life, I have a hard time accepting it emotionally. New jobs are hard. Change is hard. (I was going to say "stupid," but reconsidered; it's not a particualrly literary word.)

So how do you recover from a first day? You stop at the yarn store on the way home and buy yarn to make socks. Hand-painted blue sock yarn, so you can make blue socks and thus be a bluestocking. (Because after all, you're literary. You avoid words like "stupid" and embrace semicolons.)

Then if you're not recovered enough, you watch Brazil. While finishing up your big black alpaca sweater. And if that's still not enough? You make the potatoes-baked-in-heavy-cream gratin, which makes your roommate happy and finally puts you into a fatty food-induced coma, so you wake up ready to take on another day.

Soundtracks

So it's Monday morning of a new blog address (so much for thinking I'm anonymous) and a new job. And what song is in my head for the occasion? Surprisingly, it's not a song about a certain Maggie and her farm, as much as I love Dylan. It's not even Carmina Burana. No, it's "Feeling Good," as sung by Miss Nina Simone.

New Address

Come Monday, look for the Cute Kitten Picture, Unrelated Information, Potential Band Names Found In Everyday Conversation, and maybe even the Office Snack of the Day at this new address:

www.karenkaminski.com

And to send us off in style here at the old address, here's a bit of Roethke I don't recall the title of (perfect) and a cute bunny picture (wearing a sweater--even more perfect).

"Arch of air, my heart's original knock,
I'm awake all over."

Random Post

I finished the knitting part of the sweater project (yes, still that one) last night while watching Dr. Zhivago. Now I just have to sew it up.

And I found the rules for the Roy Rogers Riders Club yesterday!

1. Be neat and clean.
2. Be courteous and polite.
3. Always obey your parents.
4. Protect the weak and help them.
5. Be brave but never take chances.
6. Study hard and learn all you can.
7. Be kind to animals and take care of them.
8. Eat all your food and never waste any.
9. Love God and go to Sunday school regularly.
10. Always respect our flag and our country.

I like how "be clean" is rule 1 and "don't be a heathen" barely makes it in at number 9.

Cooking

After the Tuna Helper Incident last week, I haven't strayed far from M.F.K. Fisher's ideas about food--two nights ago it was lentil soup wth red wine and tomatoes, and last night it was a "classic potato gratin." The ingredients: potatoes, heavy cream, a smashed garlic clove, salt and pepper, and cheese to spread on top so it gets crispy. I used Edam. If you have never had potato slices baked in heavy cream, run--don't walk--to the kitchen and get going.

I'm blaming Madame Fisher for any weight gained this winter.

In other news, the address of Better Living Through Literature will be changing. Look for an announcement here by the end of the week. (I know all 4 of you who read this will want to update your bookmarks.)

Friends With Photoshop, Part 2:

Just when you think something is safe in its cuteness...

Thinking...

No time for literature (not even picture books)...must keep on task...only a bunny today...

Mousekin's Golden House is REAL

That was the title of a book my brother and I loved, about a mouse who hibernates in a jack-o-lantern. (Sadly, it's out of print and now is selling for "rare book" prices.) Imagine my delight when I checked out Cute Overload this morning and saw this--not Mousekin, but close:

These Boots Are Made For Walkin'

Remember the new boots that were coming Wednesday that made life worth living after all? They came. I am wearing them today. I feel like Jane Eyre. Or Captain Jack Sparrow. (I can't decide if they're Victorian boots or pirate boots.)

Speaking of Captain Jack Sparrow, here's a site where you can create a licensed, branded talking pirate email. It's kinda fun, so visit Dead Man's Mail. And remember, temporary happiness is just a purchase away.

Latin

The (admittedly few) people who read Better Living Through Literature are a good bunch--you ask for a Photoshopped pirate cat captain and you get two of them; you ask for a translation of "Have hobbies and see what happens" into Latin and, by golly, someone finds a friend who was a Classics major and sends it to you. I even got it in Greek, but I don't think the characters would publish online very well.

"Have hobbies and see what happens" gets
translated technically as "Have (hold) the pursuit of leisure and see what happens (becomes)." Which in Latin is "Habe studia otii et vide quid fiat."

So Much for M.F.K. Fisher

Last night's dinner: Tuna Helper.
Last night's quotable quote (yes, I'm quoting myself): "Tough love is letting someone you care about do what they want."

But it's not as bleak as it sounds: New shoes are arriving today, and life is always worthwhile with new shoes.

Let the Randomness Begin

It's only Tuesday, but it's high time for some unrelated information. First, here's the long-awaited picture of the third-prize winning jacket at the state fair:










And here are two pictures of alpacas from Saturday at the ranch (the close-up is of a feeding frenzy that occurred when I gave them carrots, and the distant shot is of them running to the barn to get fed):










Here's a picture of a goat with really big ears, from Cute Overload:















And finally, here's a sample of Worth 1000's "let's photoshop old progaganda posters into something funny" contest:

Cute Kitten Picture Monday!

Doesn't he look tired? I think he looks tired. He's probably tired because it's Monday.