By Robert Lowell
Planes arc like arrows through the highest sky,
ducks V the ducklings across a puckered pond;
Providence turns animals to things.
I roam from bookstore to bookstore browsing books,
I too maneuvered on a guiding string
as I execute my written plot.
I feel how Hamlet, stuck with the Revenge Play
his father wrote him, went scatological
under this clotted London sky.
Catlike on a paper parapet,
he declaimed the words his prompter fed him,
knowing convention called him forth to murder,
loss of free will and license of the stage.
Death’s not an event in life, it’s not lived through.
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I saw my friend-since-elementary-school Linda on Wednesday -- we had lunch plans and decided that first we would go take a walk at Great Falls, which wound up being a nice long walk out to Olmsted Island, then along the canal where we saw vultures, ducks, geese, and a great blue heron. We had worked up an appetite and decided to get Beyond Sausage sandwiches at Dunkin' before heading home.
My afternoon involved less exciting things like fighting with my computer, laundry, but Linda had shown me how she had colorized old family photos on MyHeritage.com, and after converting a couple of my grandparents' childhood pictures there, I went looking for other free online colorization programs and now I have a much better sense of what my great-grandparents looked like!
Because of this, I got no more of the scanning project done, but that will take all year anyway, so it's a small setback. We had couscous for dinner and watched The Masked Singer (very fun and they actually unmasked the right person for a change), then Lego Masters (still goofy but not hard on the brain), and then Stumptown (so the family mysteries deepen, at least the L.A. stuff was funny).
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