Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Poem for Wednesday


Night-Music
By Philip Larkin


At one the wind rose,
And with it the noise
Of the black poplars.

Long since had the living
By a thin twine
Been led into their dreams
Where lanterns shine
Under a still veil
Of falling streams;
Long since had the dead
Become untroubled
In the light soil.
There were no mouths
To drink of the wind,
Nor any eyes
To sharpen on the stars'
Wide heaven-holding,
Only the sound
Long sibilant-muscled trees
Were lifting up, the black poplars.

And in their blazing solitude
The stars sang in their sockets through
the night:
'Blow bright, blow bright
The coal of this unquickened world.'

--------


Tuesday morning I had to go back to the dentist to get my bite guard tightened, because I could flick it out of place with my tongue which could be a choking hazard if I did it in my sleep. So now it is even less attractive as it covers more territory on my front teeth, but in case I have forgotten to sing its praises here, I have not been getting headaches and my jaw has stopped popping when I open it widely! I did not ask the dentist whether my tooth enamel looked better -- the main reason he suggested that I get a bite guard was because I was wearing down my molars, he didn't even know I got migraines -- but I assume it must be helping with that too. So that is all good! Then I met for lunch at the place where we were originally going to have lunch last week but I made her postpone till today because I knew I had to be down there for the dentist anyway. I fear I may have lost her to the new BSG along with so many others. I wish it hadn't put me to sleep repeatedly, honest!

And I wish I felt something other than mild amusement when Firefly is on; I enjoy it but it hasn't captured my imagination. I wonder whether something in me now resists all science fiction on the ground that it feels like work watching it...but wait, I really enjoyed Threshold and did not have any "oh crap I'm going to have to do a ratings article on this" sense at all while watching, so that can't be it. I was explaining that for me to watch a show consistently, I have to be completely in love with at least one character but really preferably with the relationships between the characters, and that doesn't happen all that often or all that predictably for me. It worked in several different directions with X-Files, it worked with the supporting players on La Femme Nikita even though I never cared all that passionately whether Michael and Nikita ended up together...oh wait, but then what's my excuse for watching Dawson's Creek? It sure wasn't that I cared whether Joey ended up with Dawson or Pacey!

Okay, trying not to think about Hurricane Rita or the Roberts vote or Wiesenthal's death or the bird flu or even the idiots in the music industry who want to raise iTunes prices -- way to send everyone back to Kazaa and Limewire without guilt! Instead I shall just mention that I want this, because to have a Lego Durmstrang ship would satisfy both my tall ship fetish and my Harry Potter fetish, but sheesh these things are expensive. I can get an entire dress from HolyClothingDirect.com for that! Oh, and has just tried to kill me by pointing out these Sean Bean pictures at . I believe she may have succeeded. Ah well, some of my photos, which are not as exciting:


The woman in the naturalist's tent catches up on her embroidery.


A churn overflowing with butter. In the same tent, people could take turns turning a millstone to grind wheat.


Mike Johnson, purveyor of fine walking sticks, canes, crutches, peg legs & other fine furniture. He offered to make my son a wooden leg but told him he would have to remove his actual leg to get the measurements right. *g*


Outside the chandler's tent, hand-dipped candles dry...and, in the heat, begin to melt a bit.


In one of the tents occupied by a carpenter, one of the assistants waits to help potential customers with custom-made chairs.


A display of handmade brooms.


And George Washington's cattle. Well, not his cattle -- probably not even descendants of his cattle -- but it's a nice thought. *g*

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