By William Dean Howells
Tossing his mane of snows in wildest eddies and tangles,
Lion-like March cometh in, hoarse, with tempestuous breath,
Through all the moaning chimneys, and 'thwart all the hollows and angles
Round the shuddering house, threating of winter and death.
But in my heart I feel the life of the wood and the meadow
Thrilling the pulses that own kindred with fibres that lift
Bud and blade to the sunward, within the inscrutable shadow,
Deep in the oak's chill core, under the gathering drift.
Nay, to earth's life in mine some prescience, or dream, or desire
(How shall I name it aright?) comes for a moment and goes—
Rapture of life ineffable, perfect—as if in the brier,
Leafless there by my door, trembled a sense of the rose.
Tuesday was about as quiet around here as Monday. I spent a ridiculous amount of time downloading and converting things for the Kindle -- ridiculous in that I am not planning to read them all at once, so they didn't need to be loaded all at once. I absolutely adore AO3's MOBI converter and wish I knew how to make tables of contents that worked as well. Courtesy my friend Jenny, I read an excerpt from the memoir of the woman upon whose life An Education is based; I'm glad I didn't read it before the movie or I'd never have watched it, it made me appreciate the things the screenplay toned down.
For a while I watched the Republicans go on about all the ways they are going to make life horrible for women, poor people, and others, then decided it was warm enough to take a long walk instead. (Michael Steele not knowing that "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times" is not the first line of War and Peace did make my day, though.) The kids came home with lots of homework, and Paul and I tried watching the Sugar Bowl, but we're not particularly fans of either Ohio State or Arkansas, though I was rooting for the Buckeyes, who were winning handily when we turned off the game in favor of Jon Stewart. Here are some photos of the fabulous Hyperbolic Crochet Coral Reef, currently at the National Museum of Natural History. The dark segments at the end are from the Toxic Reef, made in part of crocheted plastic bags and woven videotape.