1, 2, 3, 4

Here's a good song for a gloomy Tuesday- a little song and dance to brighten up the day.

1, 2, 3, 4

Maps

Below you will find one of the best drawn maps of all time:

Aside from me, if your name isn't Erin or Brad, it might not mean much.  That's the way inside jokes work.  Seriously, though who doesn't like a good inside joke.  Or a good map (especially one with a Stephen Colbert reference). And I'm serious about liking maps.

Other maps:
Bath, Minnesota
Madison, Wisconsin
Paris, France
Newark, Delaware
Salem, Massachusetts
Italy
Boston, Massachusetts
Seattle, Washington
Los Angeles, California

Hodge-podge

So, it's Sunday night. I had a lazy Sunday. I slept in later than usual. Took care of a few things around my apartment. Added some poetry to my blog. Returned an item to the hardware store. Picked up some groceries. Played around with some acrylic paints on a canvas. Took a quick nap. Had a wishful dream. Went for a long run (this one was over 4 miles!). Made dinner. Discovered what appears to be a tasty new recipe. As usual, Smitten Kitchen has not disappointed me with its beautiful food photography or witty commentary (I seriously think we would be friends). I think the next new recipe I try, should be this one:  Homesick Texan Carnitas.

Now I'm watching a TV documentary, hoping that Law and Order will be on in a few minutes and that it might be one that I have not seen. I have no reason to think this will happen- but you never know. Stranger things have happened than finding Law and Order on at 8pm on a Sunday night.

Meanwhile, I'm flipping through someecards and entertaining myself that way.

Eclipse & Poppies

Eclipse

- Sarah Hannah

Every so often I am dilated; the pupils
Swallow everything—a catchall soup,
Two cauldrons, stubborn in the bald glare

Of bathroom light. They are hunting sleep—
The sea grass, the blue cot rocking;
In sleep I am a Spanish dancer,

Awaiting my cue at the velvet curtain,
Now and then groping for the sash,
Or on horseback, abducted, thumping

Through pampas. I sleep too much;
I curl in at midday, sheepish,
In strange rooms. Clouds are hurrying by—

The walls, a wash of white; still my eyes
Are mazing through their dark gardens,
The great lamp shut, the crescents duplicating.

It is only a temporary state of affairs.
The sun boils behind the moon.


***

Poppies

Mary Oliver

The poppies send up their

orange flares; swaying

in the wind, their congregations

are a levitation

of bright dust, of thin

and lacy leaves.

There isn't a place

in this world that doesn't

sooner or later drown

in the indigos of darkness,

but now, for a while,

the roughage

shines like a miracle

as it floats above everything

with its yellow hair.

Of course nothing stops the cold,

black, curved blade

from hooking forward—

of course

loss is the great lesson.

But I also say this: that light

is an invitation

to happiness,

and that happiness,

when it's done right,

is a kind of holiness,

palpable and redemptive.

Inside the bright fields,

touched by their rough and spongy gold,

I am washed and washed

in the river

of earthly delight—

and what are you going to do—

what can you do

about it—

deep, blue night?


***

Bess, My Bowling Ball

A little background. I received Bess, my bowling ball, when I was in college as a birthday gift.  It was an unsolicited attempt to make me a better bowler. It didn't really work, but since it's customized to my finger tips, I kept my bowling ball. And October of 2010, I finally named her. That morning was very busy for her and I thought it was time to revisit that adventure:

The Living Room Adventures of Bess, My Bowling Ball

Clomp...

The person who lives above me is home. Cleaning. In boots. Maybe they are wearing nothing else, but they are definitely wearing boots and clomping around. And the only explanation for so much moving around their apartment is cleaning. You might say maybe they are dancing, but I assure you this is not dancing. Seriously, it sounds like a heard of elephants. Or just one. In boots.

**Update**  Just to confirm (I know you were wondering): Yes, my upstairs neighbors were cleaning. I just heard a group of people singing happy birthday. Well, I hope all the cleaning paid off for the party.

So, now is a good time for an update to my blog- it's certainly not a good time for a nap. On my way home this afternoon, I came across this in Urban Outfitters:

And it made me laugh, because it's basically what this blog is, but with a few more levels of filtering.

So, here's my latest, I guess. Fox News and Obama's Thanksgiving Youtube Address:

Much-ado-about-stuffing

I love John Stewart's commentary about why he loves Thanksgiving. Me too, John, me too...

Now, here's a come back for Fox News:  Hearing Crazy Voices?

'Tis the Season

Okay, so a little background... I don't own any holiday decorations- not for any holidays. That's not to say I don't have any holiday cheer ... It's just a lot easier and takes up way less space to pack cheer, than material declarations of the holiday spirit. However, I pretty much treat all holidays equally (except maybe Valentine's and Halloween, which I think should be renamed in their true spirit...another topic for another time) which pretty much means I celebrate whatever holidays my friends and family celebrate, with wine.  And I even share my wine :)
So, in a gesture of goodwill and holiday cheer, I would like to share this 'festive' clip from Ally McBeal. Excuse the french (I think) voice-overs of her co-workers. The episode is on Netflix, and I'd encourage watching the full episode for the background to this clip.  This clip happens to focus on Christmas, but not to worry, I'm sure I'll come across something else entertaining soon enough.
Happy Holidays.