Poem for Thursday

What Myth Is
By Carl Phillips

Not only what lasts, but what
applies over time also. So
maybe, for all my believing, not

you, on either count. Any more
than this hand where it falls,
here, on your body; or than

your body itself, however good
sometimes at making—even now,
in sleep—a point carry. Not

this morning, either, that under
the heat has already begun
failing; nor, for all their pre–

Ice Age glamour—what is
mythical, at best, not myth—
these Japanese beetles that off

and on hit the window’s limp
screen, fall in, even. Who
make of the trees’ leaves a

thin lace the air, like memory,
languidly fingers. Whose wings,
like yours where sometimes I

see them, flash broad, green-
gold in the sun, to say bronze.
When they fold them, it’s hard

to believe they fly, ever.

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I had a slighty belated birthday lunch with , at California Tortilla because it's right nearby and we were hungry! And we gossiped about men and watched some ancient Smallville -- the commentary on "Red" and the third season gag reel (the one where Michael Rosenbaum pretends he's going to kiss John Glover and John Glover sits there with a big grin and a "Yeah, come on" expression on his face). She was kept very busy by cats who wanted her attention -- Rosie once again cheated on with her.

I've been trying to clean out various areas of my house after the repainting so I can make as few trips to Goodwill as possible with all our stuff, so this afternoon it was my closet. I have two huge bags of clothes, some of which I have owned since college, which is kind of scary. (Actually I have one t-shirt that I've owned since junior high school that doesn't remotely fit me anymore, but I'm saving it for nostalgia's sake.) Does anyone collect vinyl records anymore, for the covers if not the music? We have our entire extended families' collection but except for the Jeremy Irons-Glenn Close recording of The Real Thing (with Christine Baranski and Cynthia Nixon as a teenager, too), there's nothing there we really want that we don't have in some other format at this point! And I must figure out a way to convert that before our turntable stops working!


The Catoctin Mountains from Sugarloaf Mountain.


An insect on one of the trail markers.


Autumn color on the mountain.


Adam decided he had had enough of hiking on the way to the summit.


Sugarloaf Vineyard was converted from a working farm to winery between 2002 and 2005.


The vineyard grows and produces wine from the five Bordeaux red grapes -- Cabernet Franc, Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Malbec and Petit Verdot -- and two white grapes -- Chardonnay and Pinot Grigio.


The whites are harvested first, then the reds.


They have tastings on many fall weekends with fruit and cheese platters.

Watched Pushing Daisies which I am going to miss so much when it's gone! Between the claymation Christmas horror story that started it off, the dream sequences and the sweetest love story on TV, it made me so happy! I don't know what I liked better, the initial death-of-Caesar portrayal of the polygamist's murder or the replay in which he is poisoned, slips in the milk and falls repeatedly on a knife-sharp dog brush handle (the narrator intones that while Ned was suffering over his guilt about having kissed Olive, Harold Hundin was experiencing something infinitely more tragic: his murder). It's funny because I can actually imagine one of the CSI shows doing a disgusting, mean-spirited episode about a murdered polygamist dog breeder, but I'd never watch it. On this series, with its magic and Series of Unfortunate Events sensibility -- if only the movie had been more like Pushing Daisies -- it's all delightful!

So Ned is stressing out over his wet dream about Chuck-Olive and Emerson is stressing out because he's hot for Wife #3 and my kids were stressing out that someone had killed Bubblegum, the prize crossbreed lab-collie-jack russell-poodle (athletic, loyal and hypoallergenic) but it turns out that Bubblegum is alive and Wife #3 is actually the heroine because she faked the dog's death! And, I mean, lines like the one about the rival dog breeder, "Snuffy wanted all the doggie treats for himself," and Emerson refusing to let Ned get away from Olive by driving with him saying "This is a solo shake," and Wife #3 gagging Emerson with a squeaky toy, and Emerson's fear of the dark from being locked in a washing machine as a child and thinking Wife #3 must not be the murderer or "she'd have busted a cynanide capsule up my ass," and the bedtime discussion of what people need...I just love everything about this series.

I can't say the same for Bionic Woman, which mostly left me bored even during what are supposed to be big emotional moments. I won't miss Antonio, not because of disliking Isaiah Washington particularly but because they haven't done anything with the character, and Tom is Mister Bland...I have no idea what she sees in him except that he's too dumb to stay in secret ops for long. I suspect this show won't be back next season so I'm kind of just seeing it out.