By Jane Miller
For begging beauty
one can hardly blame the artist
sleeping like butter in the sun
taking no action for action
some prefer being a yellow rose petal
I learned when I traveled
the young poet saying a prayer
is a form of panic
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We had yet another gorgeous afternoon of sun and warm weather on the day when the Maryland state senate passed the gay marriage bill and sent it to the governor, who has promised to sign it (opponents have vowed to put a referendum on the November ballot to overturn it, but I am cautiously optimistic based on polls and the voters who picked our legislators in the first place that the law will stand). So despite various nitpicks about my life I must account Thursday a very good day. Even the state of Virginia attempted to redeem itself in the eyes of America, as the governor wailed that he couldn't have been expected to understand the physical realities of the anti-choice law he had promised to sign, and the legislature dropped the "violation with a medical implement" bit.
Adam had a late rehearsal for the show for which he's doing tech, so Paul and I were going to go see The Artist before the Oscars this weekend where it is expected to clean up the awards, but AMC Loews Rio had it in the tiny theater and no way were we going to pay $11 a ticket to see the Oscar frontrunner on essentially an oversized TV screen. So we took a walk around the lake at Rio to see the geese in the sunset, then came home and had peanut soup. The National Geographic Channel had America Before Columbus on, so we watched that after retrieving son. Since spring is apparently arriving on Friday with 70-degree temperatures, here are some more photos from Brookside's not-quite-that-warm conservatory:
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