“Miracles occur,
If you dare to call those spasmodic
Tricks of radiance miracles. The wait’s
begun again,
The long wait for the angel,
For that rare, random descent.”-Sylvia Plath
Ghostly Church
Daily Diversion #88: Ghostly Church
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Tag Archives: Photos
Daily Diversion #87: A Good Sign
I’ve loved this sign since I was a child. When I see it, I know I’m home.
“A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it.”-George Augustus Moore
Daily Diversion #86: Vacation, Holiday, Mini-Break
Whatever you want to call it, I’m on one. I’ll re-cap our amazing Burns Night Supper after I return home in a few days. Until then, you can expect some odds and ends posts, like this optical-illusion filled view from my mom’s apartment. Enjoy!
Partial Columbus Skyline
“I have lived in the East nearly thirty years now, but many of my books prove that I am never very far away from Ohio in my thoughts, and that the clocks that strike in my dreams are often the clocks of Columbus.”-James Thurber
“Columbus is a town in which almost anything is likely to happen, and in which almost everything has.”-James Thurber
Daily Diversion #85: Suffering for (Stiletto) Style
“The snow doesn’t give a soft white damn whom it touches.”-E.E. Cummings
Stilettos in the Snow 1
Stilettos in the Snow 2
Stilettos in the Snow 3
Counting Down to Our Burns Night Supper, Part Three: Scottish Libations
This morning, The Chef made a trip to the party store to pick up what he calls Produce of Scotland, which is a crucial component of our Burns Night Supper. Although we will also serve wine, beer, and miscellaneous alcohol, next to these lovelies they matter not.
Produce of Scotland. Photo by The Chef.
The McClelland’s, although not our favourite, is perfect for the Scotch Tasting event: there’s a Lowland, a Highland, and an Islay. The wee bottles of Glenfiddich are the Toasting Contest Prize. The Glenrothes on the right is just because. The Botanist Gin on the left is for the odd person who isn’t into whisky but still wants to enjoy a sip of sweet Scotland’s finest.
Daily Diversion #84: Charming Gardeners
I was sick for two weeks. After a couple of days of gingerly poking my head out of the gopher hole to check on the state of the real world (was it as I remembered, or had it been transformed into an alien other?), my best friend yanked me into the sunshine of this beautiful, sunshiny January day. We were, for a few glorious hours, carefree Ladies Who Lunch. And shop. And laugh. It was blissful. Here’s Nikki, looking lovely.
The drinks were not as large as they seem.
“Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.”-Marcel Proust
Daily Diversion #83: Sick Boy, My Love
The Chef is feeling a bit under the weather today, too. He’s my love, that man. His solution for the aches and pains? Sleeping under a big pile of couch cushions. I’ll let you know how well that works out.
The Sleeping Chef. Instagram.
“Perfect love is the most beautiful of all frustrations because it is more than one can express.”-Charles Chaplin
Daily Diversion #82: Napping Crosley
I’m still sick, still struggling to find energy, still spending my days curled up on the couch. Fortunately, I have great, wet-nosed company.
Napping Crosley. Instagram. “Happiness is a warm puppy.”-Charles M. Schulz
[Book Nerd Links] Allen Ginsberg’s Hand-Annotated Photos of the Beat Generation
Allen Ginsberg’s Hand-Annotated Photos of the Beat Generation [courtesy of Flavorwire]
Truly fascinating.
Daily Diversion #81: The Crud Strikes Again
“Illness is the most heeded of doctors: to goodness and wisdom we only make promises; pain we obey.”-Marcel Proust
I’ve been down since Thursday with what my husband calls The Crud, a hazy combination of the ‘flu, a bad cold, and general malaise. The bottom of my favourite tea canister is visible, the bag of cherry lozenges empty; work is piled high by the bed, and I am cranky. Sleep and reading have been my twin graces. I am almost ready to crawl back into the murmur and hum of the wider world. Almost. Right after I finish one more chapter each of four books and drain the amber liquid from my tea-cup.
Concrete beauty in the midst of delirium.
Concrete beauty in the midst of delirium.
A Small Press Life: Books. Art. Writing. Life. Tea. 