By Walt Whitman
In the new garden, in all the parts,
In cities now, modern, I wander,
Though the second or third result, or still further, primitive yet,
Days, places, indifferent—though various, the same,
Time, Paradise, the Mannahatta, the prairies, finding me unchanged,
Death indifferent—Is it that I lived long since? Was I buried very long ago?
For all that, I may now be watching you here, this moment;
For the future, with determined will, I seek—the woman of the future,
You, born years, centuries after me, I seek.
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Tuesday was not as much fun as Monday in that I had work and laundry and things like that to get done, but it wasn't a bad day. I got done most of what I needed to do, and in the afternoon both Paul and Madeline had shopping to do at Kohl's and Target, so while they were trying things on, I took a walk around Washingtonian Lake in surprisingly nice weather, hot but not humid. There were geese and ducks and Dragonairs, and I found adorable long-sleeve Renfaire-appropriate shirts at Target.
Madeline had work in the evening, so Paul and I had Israeli couscous (faux) chicken and watched Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory long-distance with Cheryl. The great parts are still great and the too-creepy-for-children parts just get creepier with every viewing, but there's no question that Wilder's performance makes the movie work (and if you've never watched the DVD extras, they're worth the time!). From Maymont's Virginia zoo on Sunday:
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