One-pan Orzo With Spinach and Feta…
…along with flattened and stuffed chicken breasts.
Kentucky Coffeetree
But mainly, it’s about Limericks. A few of the classics are here: Limericks
Poetical
Breakfast out at…
Very unfancy but very good food.
Because of the insistence of several (or fewer) fans of poetry, I have revised my introductory List of Poems. This list is supposed to be a guide for the normal person, a person who might be developing an interest. It is not intended to be a definitive list of great poetry, and there is no doubt that many great poems (especially those revered by English majors) are not included. It is intended to help incomers find a path through the weeds. The list is just a list of titles, not links, so anyone interested in reading all this great stuff will have to turn to books or search online and download.
And I think that to transfuse emotion—not to transmit thought but to set up in the reader's sense a vibration corresponding to what was felt by the writer—is the peculiar function of poetry.
A. E. HOUSMAN
When we read Kipling we can usually say,
"That is just how I feel." Of course there is nothing "wrong" with that, but, when we read a great poet, we say, "I never realized before what I felt. From now on, thanks to this poem, I shall feel differently."
W. H. AUDEN
Blog Restructured
With the new year I’m switching this blog from once a day to whenever appropriate.
Over the past 14 or more years more than 5,000 daily posts have been put up.
Having to do a daily blog, with both text and at least one photo, is fun but challenging: it makes you pay attention and think about things, but it can be stressful, especially when the sun is sinking and there’s no photo in the can.
I will probably continue my habitual pattern of daily posts, but then, I might wait until I have a good shot or something to say—so please don’t expect a post daily. I think this new regimen might even allow me to do a little more longer-form writing, though I am determined to avoid becoming anything like an “influencer.” Thanks.
New Year’s Sunday Drive…
…over by Albany and Broadhead, and the 90-mile long famous paddle-way known as the Sugar River, which runs from west of Madison down to near Rockford, Illinois. Took a biref walk in the chill wind.
So Long…
…2024. Onward and upward.
Take out pizza in the oven. Snacks ( and photos of snacks) to come later.
New Project
A big RC wooden schooner, built from scratch—no kit.
Fifty-eight inches on deck, but still small enough to make it up the basement stairs. Stitch-and-glue plywood on frames; fin keel with lead bulb (which I will have to cast from molten lead in a handmade mold). Removable keel and rig.
This is going to be a long term project, but can’t wait to start.
Also, I’ve updated the list of esential poetry. I was trying to buff it up to 100, but, because of high standards, only made it to 90. Still, a pretty good place to begin: Great Poetry
Dim Days…
…but the dimness is lingering longer.
Springlike…
…after considerable overnight rain.
Nice enough for a bike ride (on the old, non-electric bike), but not climate appropriate.
Gone Viral…
…is what the viruses in this house have done, and we innocent bystanders are the ones who are paying the price. Furthermore, the conditions outdoors are just about equal to the the indoor weather.
On to spring.
Pea Soup…
…all the way home. (And just warm enough to prevent it from precipitating. But fun visit and chance to catch up.
North Country Yule…
…including some time shoveling snow off ice.
And The Prancing And Pawing…
…of nine big squirrels, under the bird feeder.
But no interest in the compost bin.
Christmas Eve dinner at the neighbor’s. Tasty Swedish fare including potato sausages. Happy Christmas Eve, everyone.
Red Sky At Morning..
…yesterday, but nothing but gray sky and drizzle today.
Amaryllis pointing out the cardinal compass points.
Family Christmas…
…at Antler Circle, a few days early. Great fun, gifts, hors d’oeuvres, and dinner.
The Solstice Is For…
…kitchen work.
Dundee cakes, Texas green chili, cornbread.
Three Refills…
…of the snow covered bird feeder.
Needle Removed…
…and Mimi is on the mend.
A Dusting of Snow…
…followed by a biting of wind. More winter scheduled for tomorrow.
White oak and red oak—could this be a form of DEI?
Friend, Mike, commented on yesterday’s post. I recommend going back in time to read it. In a similar vein: Poems By Heart
Wrapping Up…
…a poetry discussion, with a friend. The discussion was intended to provide material to think about while avoiding news—and it has worked. I remain blissfully semi-ignorant of the train wreck occurring in Washington.
However, it’s now time for said friend to move on to self-study and for me to find a new diversion.
Here’s part of my email:
Now might be the time for us to get back to my list of worthy poetry. Great Poetry
I think the list is worthwhile in that (to use a metaphor) rather than having to hack through thickets of variegated verse, a person with interest in poetry can sashay right into a well-tended garden. Of course, there is much great work not included in the list, but the list is a good place to start.
So, I would suggest working through as much of the list as you find enjoyable, sending me comments and questions, if you have any, as you go. At the back of your mind keep active these two questions—what is poetry, and what is good poetry? As you move through the poems use inductive reasoning to assemble a definition, and when you feel ready send it to me. (Let me know if you can’t find and download any of the poems.)
Don’t let the internet do the research and thinking for you. Save the discoveries for yourself. (Does this advice sound like "Ithaka"?) There are, however, two wonderful books you could turn to if you want to dig really deep: How Does A Poem Mean, by John Ciardi, and Sound And Sense, an Intro to Poetry, Laurence Perrine.
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Come, my friends,
'T is not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.