…is a fascinating and priceless literary and cultural treasure. Filling the years 1919-1938, it is a neat autobiography of his (and Zelda’s) professional output and earnings. The whole thing is now available on-line. Go there, go there now! It is a first-class time-waster worth every second.
A very nice technician was able to restore our cable feed, but the goblins foiled his many heroic efforts to fix our Internet problem. The prognosis? It should be up and running by Monday afternoon. I could cry. I am going to drown my sorrows in the sweet satisfactions of a UK Kit Kat bar and a few pages of Shaw.
The Internet Goblins still have the upper hand, but not for long: everything will be fixed on Friday. I cannot wait to wholeheartedly re-join the WordPress community with deeper quality content than what I’ve been able to post these last few days. Thanks for hanging in there, dear readers. You are the best!
This is how I feel after 5 days without Internet access.
Those pesky Internet-stealing Goblins struck again last night. Since I can only write so many sentences with ease on my phone, all of the lovely posts I had planned for today (and possibly tomorrow) are temporarily on hold. Here are a couple of random photos to tide you over.
Whenever I hike through the 733 acres of our local cemetery, I have to stifle the compulsion to declaim poetry to an audience of tombstones, trees, and birds. Instead, I turn the words inward, or whisper them under my breath. The shadow-poets I prefer change with the seasons. If winter’s sharp, cold, stinging reach is perfect for Sylvia Plath, then the gloriously still warmth of spring is the natural home for the distilled, profound and subtle Emily Dickinson.
Two forlorn graves and clumps of wildflowers are the perfect audience for Emily’s poems.
*“Nature” is what we see” is the opening line from an Emily Dickinson poem.