Thursday, October 07, 2004

Poem for Thursday


Coronach
By Sir Walter Scott


He is gone on the mountain,
    He is lost to the forest,
Like a summer-dried fountain,
    When our need was the sorest.
The font reappearing
    From the raindrops shall borrow,
But to us comes no cheering,
    To Duncan no morrow!

The hand of the reaper
    Takes the ears that are hoary,
But the voice of the weeper
    Wails manhood in glory.
The autumn winds rushing
    Waft the leaves that are serest,
But our flower was in flushing
    When blighting was nearest.

Fleet foot on the correi,
    Sage counsel in cumber,
Red hand in the foray,
    How sound is thy slumber!
Like the dew on the mountain,
    Like the foam on the river,
Like the bubble on the fountain,
    Thou art gone, and for ever!

--------


Trek Nation got a new server, so while I wrote an article in the morning, I couldn't post it till tonight and now I figure I'll wait till tomorrow and see if any new Enterprise reviews present themselves. This being the case, I went out to lunch with the lovely and discussed slash in a restaurant where I have eaten with my mother far too many times to be entirely comfortable. She made me a copy of a mix CD that is now causing my Lupin and Snape muses to be schmoopy when I need them to be angsty, and meanwhile Lucius is being entirely uncooperative because he wants his backstory written. Characters!

For dinner we ended up having pancakes and eggs because the meat wasn't defrosted and then we watched Smallville en masse. My older son wanted to know if that was what high school was like, and we were trying to explain the concept of "sleazy male Hollywood producer wish fulfillment wet dream" but not exactly in those words. I mean, it's so realistic that a girl who was treated abusively by a boy for being ugly would then, upon becoming beautiful, want to have sex with him the moment he expressed interest, right? What wonderful female adolescent psychology! I know people love to hate Lana but given the staff that's writing the poor character, I can't help feeling sorry for her.

Watched baseball after Smallville but the less said about that, the better. Today I am seeing and . Envy me! GIP in honor of the season (yeah, it's Kinkade, scoff away). Am way behind on comments again, I know, not to mention actual e-mails and such. It would make my day if anyone wrote me a drabble based on any fic I have ever written in any fandom, but there are hundreds of them and I wouldn't even know where to start quoting first lines, so if you have way too much time on your hands and want to make my day, you can visit my web page and pick one and I will giggle and squee.


Many alert readers asked for pictures of cats, gerbils, squirrels, groundhogs, etc. For a change, I decided to post a photo of my older son's late and much-lamented hamster, Ham, whom we buried on Halloween last year.


wanted a photo of a candle. She probably meant a pretty one, lit, with a halo around it, but the only candle burning here tonight is in the glare of the baseball playoffs and the hideous Yankees win. However, there is an unlit candle in this photo, obscured by soccer and baseball trophies.


asked for an oddly shaped rock. I am cheating and using a photo I took before I actually did this meme, though it's only three days old -- fluorite from the Smithsonian's rocks and minerals collection.


I'm cheating for as well -- she wanted the nearest body of water, and since I was at Great Falls this weekend, here is the Potomac River passing Olmsted Island -- half dammed up by all the downed trees from Isabel and subsequent storms, half flowing free over the falls.


asked for ice and snow. Obviously we don't have those yet. But here is a picture of Stephen playing in the snow last winter, which should fulfill 's requirement for him as well.

And wanted my favorite coffee mug. I'm afraid that this is a multi-part image. The mug says WOMAN on it in white letters against a colorful background, but all the colors are made up of letters in quotes about women. The mug was a gift from my eleventh grade English teacher, for whom I was an aide the next year, and the woman she team taught with, who is one of my mother's oldest friends though they had been estranged for a few years until I worked for her and she and I really hit it off. So this has all kinds of meaning for me.





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