Poem for Thursday

From "The Congressional Library"
By Amy Lowell

Where else in all America are we so symbolized
As in this hall?
White columns polished like glass,
A dome and a dome,
A balcony and a balcony,
Stairs and the balustrades to them,
Yellow marble and red slabs of it,
All mounting, spearing, flying into color.
Color round the dome and up to it,
Color curving, kite-flying, to the second dome,
Light, dropping, pitching down upon the color,
Arrow-falling upon the glass-bright pillars,
Mingled colors spinning into a shape of white pillars,
Fusing, cooling, into balanced shafts of shrill and interthronging light.
This is America,
This vast, confused beauty,
This staring, restless speed of loveliness,
Mighty, overwhelming, crude, of all forms,
Making grandeur out of profusion,
Afraid of no incongruities,
Sublime in its audacity,
Bizarre breaker of moulds,
Laughing with strength,
Charging down on the past,
Glorious and conquering,
Destroyer, builder,
Invincible pith and marrow of the world,
An old world remaking,
Whirling into the no-world of all-colored light.

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Still not really well so please forgive lack of responses and blathering. Felt fine this morning while driving to 's and enjoying "Methos shows up, declares his love and rescues Duncan"...um, I mean "Deliverance," plus "The Samurai" and "Studies in Light," and I am definitely a Duncan slut because I didn't miss Methos at all in the latter two. (Though conveniently provided me with Peter Wingfield softcore porn which I had to share with my husband between West Wing and now, heh, and my god that man's body when he takes his clothes off...! But I got clobbered with a migraine this afternoon which is hanging on tenaciously; am blaming the time of month, and it better be gone in the morning since Thursday is always my early sucky morning. My throat is still not a hundred percent, my head is pounding and in general I feel like a whiny bitch. ( had an even worse day, being unable to join us on account of having had her wallet stolen, which sucks immensely!)

"Crouching Tiger, Hidden Lana" on Smallville did not do a lot for me despite Michael Rosenbaum and Jensen Ackles in various states of torn shirts; I like Lana better possessed by evil witches than as herself, but I like her even better not there at all, which I feel guilty about because I really want to like the women on the show...I just don't, most of the time. The West Wing however brought me to tears twice and gave me two revelations, one CJ/Toby moment and one Matt/Josh moment, the first when CJ joked to Toby that maybe this could be one of those nights where they got drunk and pretended they didn't work together -- okay, fine, maybe I see the CJ/Toby a little, though I still prefer both of them with other people (fine, so he's not interested in Annabeth and Will might be, at least that takes care of the Will/Donna problem but CJ still deserves someone who can make her smile far more often) -- the second being when Hollywood Matt is enthusiastically crooning to Josh who says, "You're not going to kiss me, are you?" I missed whatever got said after that because I was squealing in ecstasy. I really thought the Toby-Josh fight by definition was going to be idiotic, and was astonished at how moving it was -- god, I love Toby so much when he makes it about issues because although I totally understand where Josh's heart is (and I don't mean THAT way, I mean in terms of wanting to back a candidate who can win), I agree with the copping to the center charges completely. And I would be more articulate about all of this if I did not have a murderous splitting headache, I swear.

Have been corresponding with my older son's teachers about his work and think we have to consider going back to the doctors to talk about going back on meds for ADHD, which bothers me more than it should -- last time I convinced myself that what mattered was his overall physical and mental health and educational and social life, which I need to do again, but I am so sick and tired of chemicals being prescribed as the solution for fully half the boys we know, whether their issues have to do with mood, learning, social problems, temper, study habits...how did my generation survive, anyway, without all these drugs? Are there more of us in institutions now because they didn't have all these magic pills? I don't know actual statistics, but my gut instinct is that there is too much being prescribed too readily for too many kids. How one determines whether one's own child is one of the too many, though, is really tricky.















Spring comes early to Brookside's greenhouse. Photos taken last weekend during the Maple Sugaring Festival.

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We are supposed to get a significant amount of snow tomorrow, possibly starting by the morning rush hour so school could be delayed, closed early or cancelled; they're saying 6-8 inches could fall by tomorrow night. I will attempt to catch up then, particularly if I am stuck in the house.