By Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless;
That only men incredulous of despair,
Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air
Beat upward to God's throne in loud access
Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness,
In souls as countries, lieth silent-bare
Under the blanching, vertical eye-glare
Of the absolute Heavens. Deep-hearted man, express
Grief for thy Dead in silence like to death--
Most like a monumental statue set
In everlasting watch and moveless woe
Till itself crumble to the dust beneath.
Touch it; the marble eyelids are not wet:
If it could weep, it could arise and go.
I had a pretty quiet Friday -- visit to the post office with insanely long line and only two windows open, walk in the gorgeous chilly late fall woods with lots of squirrels gathering acorns for the winter, and writing my negative-to-scathing review of Star Trek: The Next Generation's "The Perfect Mate". Plus lots of getting up to shoo cats off the heating vents -- there are three vents on the main level of the house and three cats, so I have to check the front window, under the desk, and the back window, and by the time I'm finished, whoever I booted out of the front window is already moving back. This is how I woke up this morning (photos by amused husband who couldn't convince the other woman to budge):
Rosie's very favorite position for sleeping is smushed between Paul and myself, but if he's not there, she is content to smush me.
If I am very lucky, I also get Cinnamon smushed against my legs on one side and Daisy smushed on the other.
Of course, it is not necessary for a person to be in the bed for cats to take it over. They prefer it unmade or at least mussed from cat wrestling.
Daisy is in a submissive kitten pose because she knows she is about to get in trouble for sleeping on the vent. Rosie is, as always, unconcerned. Cinnamon at the moment of the photo is asleep upstairs at the foot of Adam's bed in a pile of stuffed animals.
Daisy's inappropriate spots for keeping warm are not restricted to other people's pillows or heating vents, either.
The Friday Five: Seasons
1. Which one is more irritating - being too hot or being too cold? Too hot, unless it's absolutely arctic.
2. Were you born in the winter or the summer Winter. The 28th of Kislev, so during Chanukah that year.
3. What are your favourite foods to eat when you need to warm up and cool down? To warm up: hot bombay potatoes. To cool down: coconut bubble tea.
4. Which one are you more likely to suffer from - hayfever or flu - and does it run in your family? Seasonal allergies. No one in the family gets them much.
5. You are granted a day of perfect weather whenever you like. What day do you place it on and why? Whenever the next time I'll be in Glastonbury will be.
Fannish5: Name 5 characters whose wardrobe you would love to have.
1. Morgana, Merlin
2. Olive Snook, Pushing Daisies
3. Minya, Xena: Warrior Princess
4. Kai Winn, Deep Space Nine
5. Eleanor Rougement, Eastwick
We watched our usual fall Friday lineup with football in between and after. Neither sci-fi show impressed me overmuch - big epic tragic stories leave me unimpressed these days, there are just too many of them, and I always expect reset buttons sooner or later. Spoilers: Smallville, at least, had some lovely lines and a guest star I had no idea about: Julian Sands! As Jor-El, though without Jor-El's memories or gravitas, really, so as happy as I was to see him, I wasn't emotionally engaged with his storyline. It was worth watching the entire episode, though, for Oliver's promise that he still has Clark's back, and Chloe's line when she found out that Clark kissed Lois: "You've had feelings for Lois since like the 1930s!" As for Sanctuary, I already saw I Am Legend, I absolutely don't buy that Will and Kate had a poor doomed baby together (Ashley's only been gone two weeks) let alone that Magnus went off to find out how to die slowly since she apparently doesn't have the guts to try beheading herself, and there was no Henry...definitely not my favorite hour of the series.