tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21263065880299212132024-03-19T07:28:50.911-04:00a sad goldI prayed for this: a modest swatch of land where I could garden, an ever-flowing spring close by, and a small patch of woods above the house. The gods gave all I asked and more. I pray for nothing more, O Mercury, but that these blessings last my life's full term.
- Horace, Satire II, vidaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.comBlogger144125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-70980403173913700272017-02-01T15:51:00.000-05:002017-02-01T17:45:01.415-05:00Kalendis Februariis - Brigid's Day - Imbolc<div style="text-align: left;">
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The year hasn't started yet, not really. In the original Roman calendar, the year started with March and ended in December. The in-between period just wasn't part of any month or year. Which is a curious idea. They would have intercalaries all the time when the calendar and the seasons were getting out of sync. But this extended intercalary is something I could get into. Imagine if we had these two months off? I suppose in the old agrarian days, this might have been as quiet as the year was going to get. There's nothing to harvest and nothing to tend. Just stay warm and fed.<br />
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Februa was a Roman purification feast for the start of spring, so when February was created they gave it that name. If you think about it, Lent is also a purification of sorts, and it always ends in the spring. There's also the phenomenon of spring cleaning, which exists because one can't really open the windows and doors in the winter in places like New England. Though we have those odd days here and there, and they are their own celebration. Febris also means fever, which I haven't decided how to absorb.<br />
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Today is Imbolc - Brigid's Day, the start of Celtic Spring. Spring starts earlier in Europe, it seems. I have it on good authority that one can see people mowing grass in parts of Ireland in February. We woke up to snow this morning, so clearly all of this has to be taken with a North American grain of salt. Brigid was goddess, later a saint, and patron of poetry, fertility and healing, among other things: including sacred fires. She may have started as a dawn goddess, and it makes sense to celebrate her now. The days are getting longer. This is the dawn of the year. It's time to wake up!<br />
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Imbolc, or i mBolg in modern Irish, means "in the belly", referring to the lambs who are yet to be born. I like to think it can also mean that this is a time to plan for the year ahead, the real year. Let the ideas gestate, try out different thoughts.<br />
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It's also been thought to derive from words meaning "cleaning" (there's that spring cleaning again!), "milk", and "budding". In any case, we're halfway between the depths of the winter solstice and the spring equinox, when day overtakes night. Things are stirring. I swear last weekend I saw the forsythia seemed to be starting to yellow. The bare stalks always seem to get a yellow tint as they get closer to flowering.<br />
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Tomorrow is Candlemas, which finishes the forty-day period that starts with Christmas. It's meant to commemorate the presentation of Jesus at the Temple in Jerusalem. It's called by that name because of the tradition of holy candles (there's the sacred fire) to symbolise light returning to the world. Apparently, it's also a tradition to eat crepes, whose round shape recalls the sun. All the greens you may have brought in for Christmas (wreaths, garlands, the tree, etc.) should be taken down. It's a new season and the year is about to start!<br />
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And I haven't even mentioned Groundhog Day...<br />
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All of which is to say that it seems a good day to take up blogging again. It's good to have one island of my own to cultivate while the Republic burns. At least during this intercalary period. Let the ideas and plans of action gestate, get the house and hearth in order, appeal to the powers that move us, and then prepare for the long days of summer, as far away as they seem.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-8814509212381129482013-11-09T21:31:00.000-05:002013-11-09T21:31:19.861-05:00Still harvesting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Though gardening season is pretty much over, I was still able to harvest some veggies today. Beets, carrots and turnips today. I think we can look forward to cabbage, cauliflower, brussels sprouts. Everything that resists frost, I suppose.<br />
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It's been very illuminating to discover what grows when, what conditions what. I'm hardly an expert, and I'm lucky to have the luxury that I don't need to be one. We discovered a few years ago when we had a freak Halloween snowstorm that arugula can survive thirty inches of snow, at least if it all disappears quickly.<br />
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There's also something empowering about growing your own food. Not that I think we could grow all the food we need - not yet, anyway. Still, there's something satisfying in a primal way about eating food that grew because you put the work into it. It's rewarding in a very direct way. Everyone should at least grow their own lettuce in the summer. Even just one head.<br />
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So the season is ending, or has ended for most things, but it's nice to get a last harvest. I'm hoping to save some for Thanksgiving.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-79298549923835255902013-11-08T20:56:00.002-05:002013-11-08T20:56:47.461-05:00FlurriesThis morning I was out changing a bulb when I started noticing little aberrations in the air around me. Like tiny shadows, or flutters of something not quite solid in the air. And, of course, it was flurries. It says a lot about how accustomed I've become that the first flurries of the season exhilarate me so much.<div>
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Not so my first snowfall, all the way back in 1993. Twenty years ago I came to New England, having never experience any temperature colder than the mid-fifties. It only rarely goes below seventy on St Thomas. So I was excited and curious to see snow for the first time.</div>
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What a let down for my friends. They called me out, I rushed outside, I felt the first icy sting of the first flake hit my bare cheek, and I ran back inside. I hadn't anticipated that snow would hurt. Now, though, I've learned not to think of that feeling as a sting, but as a zap. Hey! You're alive. Winter's coming! Wake up!</div>
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For the first few years I lived in a Cambridge, MA, I would always mistake the first snowfall for something else: flowers, feathers, volcanic ash. In my defence, those things are a lot more likely to fall from the skies over St Thomas than snow. I think it took a few years for my brain to understand that I wasn't home any more. It took a lot longer for my brain to decide that New England was home. Or at least permanent residence.</div>
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So winter's coming. My shoulder's been tapped. It's not the cold or the snow that get you, it's the dark. So I've got plenty of bulbs.</div>
daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-9268129362704142712013-11-07T15:51:00.001-05:002013-11-07T15:51:37.014-05:00Waiting for Godot<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilrASVbv8JxqbLfIeLjOvoP7eFjD12IFm4MhYfiHZdD64BdWT66phTK1t3QT9_OszLyuAMiLqdA56t32t6KI_3rUXRDiXJb_CqqyxhkXNJNvjE5rPai-TrTplZRVD9IQsxWCI3uv22GNc/s1600/Godot-wide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilrASVbv8JxqbLfIeLjOvoP7eFjD12IFm4MhYfiHZdD64BdWT66phTK1t3QT9_OszLyuAMiLqdA56t32t6KI_3rUXRDiXJb_CqqyxhkXNJNvjE5rPai-TrTplZRVD9IQsxWCI3uv22GNc/s400/Godot-wide.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Last night Trevor and I went to see <a href="https://artsemerson.org/Online/default.asp?BOparam::WScontent::loadArticle::permalink=godot" target="_blank">Waiting for Godot</a>. I first read it in high school, and frequently re-read it in college and right afterward, but this was the first time I finally saw it performed. The actors were Irish, which does make sense since Samuel Beckett was Irish. I had only read the play in French, though, and when I last read it I hadn't just spent the last ten years living with an Irishman. Which is to say I had no way of knowing how much Irish humour there is in the play. It did underscore for me, though, how much the Irish and French sensibilities overlap. Oh, the Gauls.</div>
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The set was remarkable in its lunar theme. A gray moon with something of a crater holds all the action and a tree is suspended from above. A luminous moon hangs in the background. It's simple, stark, and makes it so the actors had to really carry it, and they did. The play is one with no easy conclusions, no obvious point, but it really is great at making you come up with explanations.</div>
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I think it's about aging, the silence of God, the downfalls of being a master or a slave, the freedom in uncertainty and the futility of life. But it's not overtly about any of those things, and isn't really about any of them at all. There are numerous uncomfortable silences throughout the play, and that's probably part of why half the audience didn't come back for the second act when it debuted in London in the fifties.</div>
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Last night's crowd, though, most certainly did come back for the second act. It was a younger crowd, which I find heartening. And the younger folks outdressed the older folks, which I find telling. Theatre has its origins in holy rituals, and I think there is still something magical to it. It was a joy to visit Emerson's new Paramount Theatre. I forgot to mention yesterday that the whole reason I was at Downtown Crossing was for this play.</div>
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Here are some reviews and explanations better than mine:</div>
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http://artery.wbur.org/2013/11/03/waiting-godot-artsemerson</div>
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Waiting_for_Godot</div>
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http://www.bostonglobe.com/arts/theater-art/2013/11/05/godot-goes-from-dublin-theatre-festival-paramount-center/CjbHufclGU00kCTEaYetYO/story.html</div>
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daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-63239210361308052472013-11-06T18:00:00.000-05:002013-11-07T15:52:54.078-05:00Downtown Crossing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have to confess something. I love Downtown Crossing. It's kind of run-down, I know, but I like how it's both neglected and the center of things at the same time. Every now and then, the Globe will run a story on how dead it is and how nobody goes there. Every time they do, I wonder if the writer only went down there at three in the morning. I'm glad to say, though, that it's picking up and getting a little more love.<br />
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Granted, I think a lot of the negative attitudes come from the preponderance of Black people, specifically teenagers, who come down. People are much more evasive about what bothers them, so I just put it out there. Of course I'll always think that crowds of Black people shopping, browsing, up to good and no good, is just, you know, normal. But what do I know? I'm just a kid from St Thomas.<br />
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And that's probably part of the appeal. I'm still a guy from a small island in the Caribbean, and walking about Downtown Crossing still fills me with wonder that such a thing can be. It's no Manhattan, but that makes it manageable for me. And one is never very far from the Common.</div>
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Perhaps the best thing about Downtown Crossing, and Boston in general, is that a view like the picture above can be had only five minutes' walking from the picture previous.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-27481749597353065012013-11-05T22:14:00.001-05:002013-11-05T22:14:27.190-05:00Halfway through Fall<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We've reached the halfway point between the fall equinox and the winter solstice. We've also just set the clocks back, so it's just that much more obvious that we're in the darker part of the year. Still, this has to be the longest foliage season I remember. It's still really beautiful, if cold. I'm lucky to live near Jamaica Pond, where I can observe the seasons when I'm in the city.<br />
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We've been at Willowbank for four years now and I think that's how long it takes me to really get used to a place. I used to walk the Forest Hills Cemetery regularly, and before that the Arboretum. Both of those are still nearby, but I circumambulate the Pond most frequently. The trees are starting to reveal their personalities to me. The other day I noticed for the first time that there are black walnut trees about.<br />
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In addition to passing the mid point to solstice, today was also the mayoral election for Boston. This is the first one in a long time that's counted, so I made sure to vote. I won't reveal my inclinations here, but I will say that the change is long overdue and that either candidate will bring strengths to the office. Voting will always make me think of my grandfather, who was jailed in Haiti for requesting free elections. I'm not thrilled with the state of our democracy, but I'll never take it for granted.<br />
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<br />daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-16667654088678816322013-11-04T21:55:00.001-05:002013-11-04T21:55:24.775-05:00Reviving the blogSo I suddenly decided the other day to write a post again after a long while, I've also been encouraged to keep going by this post: http://www.cassandrapages.com/the_cassandra_pages/2013/11/nablowrimo.html<br />
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Apparently, it's National Blog Writing Month. There are some amazing blogs out there, though I don't follow as many as I used to. I tend to go through aggregators (Digg or Feedly or somesuch, ever since Google bowed out of that game), which I realise makes me miss out on comments and such. It's nice to visit each page - it's like going on a social call.<br />
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Some of my favourites (in alphabetical order):<br />
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<a href="http://thearchdruidreport.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">The Archdruid Report</a> - a blog about the future of industrial society, or the lack of one<br />
<a href="http://www.cassandrapages.com/" target="_blank">Cassandra Pages</a> - art, poetry, writing, montréal, among many other things<br />
<a href="http://blogthoreau.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Henry David Thoreau</a> - excerpts from HDT's journals<br />
<a href="http://www.hermitary.com/thatch" target="_blank">Hermit's Thatch</a> - reflections on the solitary life<br />
<a href="http://magnusincognito.com/" target="_blank">Magnus Incognito</a> - a friend of mine whose interests are wide-ranging<br />
<a href="http://www.renfusa.com/" target="_blank">Renfusa</a> - another friend of mine - great way to become fascinated about new things<br />
<a href="http://www.vianegativa.us/" target="_blank">Via Negativa</a> - "a personal web log with delusions of grandeur"<br />
<a href="http://whiskeyriver.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Whiskey River</a> - a commonplace book<br />
<a href="http://zenhabits.net/" target="_blank">Zen Habits</a> - "finding simplicity in the daily chaos of our lives"<br />
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I'm not really sure why I'm blogging, but even if it's just to serve as a release for my creative impulses, then that's good enough. At least I'm in good company.</div>
daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-79047793391775892432013-11-03T22:14:00.001-05:002013-11-03T22:14:19.264-05:00A walk in our woodsLife in Jaffrey can be busy. Today I gathered kindling, split some wood (with a contraption, not the old-fashioned way), did laundry, weatherised some more windows. But it's not all toil. We took some time this afternoon to walk through our woods.<br />
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Our property is on both sides of the road. I've taken to calling the part across the street from the house the West Bank. I don't know why, besides that it's west of the road. We've cleared a field there, two really, but there are still acres of woods. Our neighbour Charles has been creating trails in the nearby woods for years, and I'm delighted that this summer he cleared some trails on our land.<br />
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There are lots of cool stone walls, some with remnants of barbwire. The swamp is still no-go, but there is a clearing with large stones at the very western edge of our land. I don't think it will ever get old to walk in my own woods, though I'm happy that they connect to other woods now, too. The more the merrier.<br />
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After our walk, we spent the half hour before sunset creating a giant woodpile for burning. We plan to have some pretty cool bonfires for the winter solstice! Stay tuned.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-85998411965375551612013-11-02T22:25:00.001-04:002013-11-02T22:25:14.791-04:00A good place to sit<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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At Ramble's End, in the study, sitting by the wood stove. This is a good place. We spend a lot of evenings sitting here quietly. This has become my spot, though I do switch it up and sit next to Trevor on the couch sometimes. I've come to realise that Trevor and I are very quiet people, which would surprise a lot of people who know that I'm a chatterbox.<br />
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This is also a room full of books, which is probably why we spend so much time in here: two sets of Encyclopaedia Brittanica, all my Calvin & Hobbes, books on gardening, writing, philosophy, etc. Pipes and cigar boxes galore, along with all the accoutrements for the stove.<br />
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Today is All Souls' Day.<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"> </span><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"> This room has a soul. I'm thankful for what I have.</span>daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-35502749076038526732013-11-01T13:43:00.001-04:002013-11-01T13:47:50.602-04:00Kalends November - Samhain - All Saints<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is a tree I've been admiring on my somewhat daily walks around Jamaica Pond. With my animistic worldview, I can't help thinking it's a feminine spirit. So I paid her a visit this blustery morning, all the leaves blowing past us, and paid my respects. It feels like the start of a new year.</div>
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This is where the veil between the worlds is supposedly at its thinnest, which is why we take this day to think about our departed, the spirit realm, the saints above, anyone we want to commune with who isn't in this world entirely. I'm thinking of my grandparents and playing the song "La Paloma" to bring their memories closer to me.</div>
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Summer is completely over, the harvesting is pretty much done. Now to hunker down for winter and use this dark half of the year to preserve what we've got and plan for the lighter times ahead.</div>
daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-44610617915518784462010-06-11T19:25:00.003-04:002010-06-11T19:31:52.484-04:00A misty day today. Every day when I walk from the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Bunker_Hill">Bunker Hill</a> T to the office, I pass by North Point. It's been slated for development since at least 2001. Back when I was going to be an urban planner, one of my projects at <a href="http://www.gsd.harvard.edu/professional/career_discovery/">Harvard GSD's Career Discovery Program</a> was to make a design for North Point.<div class="gmail_quote"><br />A few parts have been developed, but I've slowly fallen in love with the parts that are still "wild". I have to put "wild" in quotes because this whole area was originally a swamp. Then a rail yard. So it's hardly in its natural state. Every time it rains, I think the swamp tries to come back. The vernal pond you see below had dried up, but it came back with the recent rains.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaA4YuGhH37AsZdAqpgcSMrotWtg69cGa5YqahEyMtsioCIi6gBIGfMRjpPUonoKOzHBIv0CWTh_1NjkeE7UUB3kquK7w05u0X_cx9vr44r70sezq3-fiWLyy_EvitpRSZrFgaFt_v_7c/s1600/IMG_0346.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaA4YuGhH37AsZdAqpgcSMrotWtg69cGa5YqahEyMtsioCIi6gBIGfMRjpPUonoKOzHBIv0CWTh_1NjkeE7UUB3kquK7w05u0X_cx9vr44r70sezq3-fiWLyy_EvitpRSZrFgaFt_v_7c/s400/IMG_0346.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481662263683788146" border="0" /></a><br />I like to imagine what it's like to be a small creature on that rock at the edge of it. On my way home today, I think it was a cardinal roosting there. It flew away before I could photograph it. The light to the west was sublime.<br /><div style="word-wrap: break-word;"><div><br /><p style="margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;">As I was nearing home, these lilies just jumped at me. Today has been a good day. I'm off to walk the dog.</p><p style="margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p><div style="margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7hAIoawGuFgHzjLtOizdyDD6RkMUIDnXcHD_v-QCtkuJbJ3757ASdGaa6SZLTGXA2mgDbUB1Zlg1A9yOtGCzSq1lY7VPGCxAcVdzX-a289siB22cNSIcAI06-m_PF5MSjfVBIjQ_O6Rw/s1600/IMG_0347.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7hAIoawGuFgHzjLtOizdyDD6RkMUIDnXcHD_v-QCtkuJbJ3757ASdGaa6SZLTGXA2mgDbUB1Zlg1A9yOtGCzSq1lY7VPGCxAcVdzX-a289siB22cNSIcAI06-m_PF5MSjfVBIjQ_O6Rw/s400/IMG_0347.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481662268697929282" border="0" /></a></div></div></div></div>daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-19475282504614961922008-09-10T22:36:00.002-04:002008-09-10T22:42:31.856-04:00A wonderful eveningWonderful night. After work, I walked over to the I got to lay on my back as the sun set, enjoy the purple and orange light in the western sky, then watch the stars appear. They don’t just pop out, they drift in and out of sight so that you wonder if you’re imagining them into place. The moon stayed right over my sister’s right shoulder.<br /><br />Bats overhead flew through the beams cast by the stage lights. A red-tailed hawk flew from behind the <a href="http://www.mass.gov/dcr/hatch_events.htm">Hatch Shell</a> directly above us – beautiful bird. The air was cool enough that I was glad to be wearing a sweater, but I was comfortable. What may be the best part of all, though, is that the whole time I was enjoying my surroundings, the <a href="http://landmarksorchestra.org/">Boston Landmarks Orchestra</a> was playing Verdi’s Requiem.<br /><br />It’s a wonderful piece – the person who introduced the piece said that a criticism of Verdi’s Requiem is that it’s rather dramatic for a requiem, which tend to the peaceful, somber side of things. Well dramatic it is, but not to any detriment! I found it rather moving. Nights like tonight are why I’m so glad to live in the city.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Requiem <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">aeternam</span>, dona <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">eis</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Domine</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">et</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">lux</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">perpetua</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">luceat</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">eis</span>.</span>daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-41608322887220600342008-09-08T20:48:00.001-04:002008-09-08T22:02:44.192-04:00An afternoon in the gardenI'm delighted to announce that I've got a poem up at <a href="http://qarrtsiluni.com/">Qarrtsiluni</a>. It's "an experiment in online literary and artistic collaboration", to use their words, and I've been a fan for some time. The theme these days is Transformation, so I submitted a poem inspired by the works of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frida_Kahlo"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Frida</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Kahlo</span></a>, whose diary I read last year. You should pick it up. And don't forget to check out my <a href="http://qarrtsiluni.com/2008/09/05/frida-kahlo/">poem</a> and all the others. You can even listen to my nasally voice reading it.<br /><br />* * *<br /><br />So yesterday I engaged in some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">backyardsitting</span>, enjoying a late summer late afternoon. We're in that post-September summer that everyone forgets to reckon. Labour Day is the ritualistic end of the season in our secular calendar defined by measured by three-day weekends.<br /><br />But everyone who uses their own senses can heard the cicadas, feel the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">breeze</span>, see the waning summer light, smell the vegetation. The tomatoes on the porch are still going, the yard is pretty robust.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgPUt9ouk6_YMTw6sat3cVPouFHm8VOCb5E8rLESOzSKpgyMqlDn8bDcVTrNlXnx_HlwE25_l9rRb8N6zxOUNOzmSUFACe5rb8sbPMFMI-V0dkjByq-ysaMy4YYfHVsGCBVWQA1_Qi4sA/s1600-h/IMG_2894.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgPUt9ouk6_YMTw6sat3cVPouFHm8VOCb5E8rLESOzSKpgyMqlDn8bDcVTrNlXnx_HlwE25_l9rRb8N6zxOUNOzmSUFACe5rb8sbPMFMI-V0dkjByq-ysaMy4YYfHVsGCBVWQA1_Qi4sA/s400/IMG_2894.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243447126667405314" border="0" /></a>Looking from the balcony to the garden, don't those two chairs look inviting?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fjdI6x6xis/SMR3YtsbdLI/AAAAAAAAAcM/fOPbvOVbet4/s1600-h/IMG_2897.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5fjdI6x6xis/SMR3YtsbdLI/AAAAAAAAAcM/fOPbvOVbet4/s400/IMG_2897.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243447132632609970" border="0" /></a>Oh yes, on closer inspection they still do. They're old but have character, and they were salvaged from trash day. It's alarming how quick people are to throw out stuff that definitely has a few good years left in it!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9A0E-m7XNfh0tWpMJW1miwyU2Z05EA19z2DWGnP6DU4LoxZFSosENMiwKekV4nIXRGBzz6_Wsj8vOgXpHwWFutd0HEhrUkvvMRldycB_u3s24-7PZmB68J7uuMkw2gNLW-gr5ee1aD7Y/s1600-h/IMG_2895.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9A0E-m7XNfh0tWpMJW1miwyU2Z05EA19z2DWGnP6DU4LoxZFSosENMiwKekV4nIXRGBzz6_Wsj8vOgXpHwWFutd0HEhrUkvvMRldycB_u3s24-7PZmB68J7uuMkw2gNLW-gr5ee1aD7Y/s400/IMG_2895.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243447134328307842" border="0" /></a>Looking from my afternoon perch to the drive way. I need one of those wooden rakes them zen gardeners use.<br /><br />Trevor has managed to turn the yard into a garden, with birdbaths and chairs and brickwork. Our neighbour contributed river rock pebbles, and that with the tree trimming really brightened it up. This is the first summer in the almost four years I've lived here that I sat down and enjoyed the back yard.<br /><br />Tropical Storm Hanna poured and poured on us Saturday night, but by daybreak yesterday it was beautiful. I know because I was awake for it. I can see why people like getting up early. We walked to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Cafe</span><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> Ula and had our breakfast outside, as we've been doing on some Sundays this summer, and realised we still had lots of day left.<br /><br />* * *<br /><br />From <a href="http://blogthoreau.blogspot.com/2007/09/thoreaus-journal-06-sep-1841.html">Thoreau's blog</a>:<br /><blockquote><br />Some hours seem not to be occasion for anything, unless for great resolves to draw breath and repose in, so religiously do we postpone all action therein. We do not straight go about to execute our thrilling purpose, but shut our doors behind us, and saunter with prepared mind, as if the half were already done.<br /></blockquote>daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-35512730254098318932008-09-01T21:15:00.009-04:002008-09-06T18:11:51.715-04:00Emerald NecklaceKalends September<br /><br />A lovely Labour Day spent walking along the so-called Emerald Necklace. One of the pleasures of living in Boston, especially Jamaica Plain, is that I can walk through parks all the way from my house to downtown. So this morning Trevor and I set off with Isaac. Our path took us through the <a href="http://arboretum.harvard.edu/">Arboretum</a>, along the Arborway to Jamaica Pond. From there we crossed into Olmsted Park, which does straddle the Boston-Brookline line, though it seems to be much more on the radar of Brookline residents. Every time I've come to Olmsted Park, I feel like I'm wandering in the ruins of some lost civilisation. In some ways I suppose I am.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7eKQZbyUdMmgGx5_CcjYId7IXp41_nirs9aZHtICq7FvSMaeGKzfju91Ojkk9SHGH3vTA7qQTGLMSUBn7ZvLD-0UpdVd6wU4L_Xv8GTXmjzW1zLxQAJKXqjTddR77uBtzeNvHQibJLCs/s1600-h/onlyadream.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7eKQZbyUdMmgGx5_CcjYId7IXp41_nirs9aZHtICq7FvSMaeGKzfju91Ojkk9SHGH3vTA7qQTGLMSUBn7ZvLD-0UpdVd6wU4L_Xv8GTXmjzW1zLxQAJKXqjTddR77uBtzeNvHQibJLCs/s400/onlyadream.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241827650716871666" border="0" /></a>See? Throughout the park there are the remains of lampposts, benches, walking paths. If you sit at the shore of Ward's Pond, you could be forgiven for thinking you're in the middle of a far-off forest. The sensation of being far away and yet in the middle of the city has always been very intriguing. Beaver Lake in Vancouver's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stanley_Park">Stanley Park</a> came to mind.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPup2EyURSEUuBtGahrUR8ZOEQzV0kyRln71dMx18f2uAS_hjab_DepfUlFcA9C78G2E6bSbIiDX1p9yOMUpHg5BhEDsxvjytrTAecTdi1Lw5suAlTuCDd3MxKRvq8NfK0k9w-pX7CZbQ/s1600-h/spotthehobbit.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPup2EyURSEUuBtGahrUR8ZOEQzV0kyRln71dMx18f2uAS_hjab_DepfUlFcA9C78G2E6bSbIiDX1p9yOMUpHg5BhEDsxvjytrTAecTdi1Lw5suAlTuCDd3MxKRvq8NfK0k9w-pX7CZbQ/s400/spotthehobbit.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241827883579764514" border="0" /></a>Can you spot the hobbit?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbstj2b8_8j3K0UapaBSEyTSe-yoWseWZAhjrYPanBwPe88n4qscdeX57Szd7OV-QIEudzpncXMiYMnQJt28rz52ssaqr8t-lT-t8zZ7R0in8rJitAW_WVvgT7Csu_1DDBqRkmnt07vc4/s1600-h/muddyriver.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbstj2b8_8j3K0UapaBSEyTSe-yoWseWZAhjrYPanBwPe88n4qscdeX57Szd7OV-QIEudzpncXMiYMnQJt28rz52ssaqr8t-lT-t8zZ7R0in8rJitAW_WVvgT7Csu_1DDBqRkmnt07vc4/s400/muddyriver.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241827890418221922" border="0" /></a>This is a bend in the Middy River, right near the <a href="http://mfa.org/">Museum of Fine Arts</a>. It brought back memories, walking this stretch. There are so many colleges in the Fenway area, the streets were swarming with U-Hauls and students burdened with their various new belongings. It's fifteen years that I've been here now. <span style="font-style: italic;">Tempus fugit</span>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAJBuvdbQtDuNi3FEnG4GJfdczEHqVLyi-stV7tcN7i6xOP1BYdR2fcJ81tQwlt7omtFwg4wXII9wfZCWUsafL9rwPp4Kbts6TGVtMSTxJ7YcO9A7uM6DTQX1pI1rzygViOki6N8LovY4/s1600-h/fens.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAJBuvdbQtDuNi3FEnG4GJfdczEHqVLyi-stV7tcN7i6xOP1BYdR2fcJ81tQwlt7omtFwg4wXII9wfZCWUsafL9rwPp4Kbts6TGVtMSTxJ7YcO9A7uM6DTQX1pI1rzygViOki6N8LovY4/s400/fens.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241827895396057618" border="0" /></a>This is a rose garden that I'd no idea existed. I took this picture because it makes it look like the gate leads to a garden that has skyscrapers growing from it. Which it does.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR-Xamo7YPmWOCgdu9kp4l9U7dw49CJSttN_f35DLusIhZVxSdDmZtoe1VrFvbsQJ9lOmGyGL64pziMr5IucXF6accTnRFI-2t5qH77kZleDT9IExrqzT-kFBzsqBHFih2A5jN6mSUyUo/s1600-h/victorygarden.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR-Xamo7YPmWOCgdu9kp4l9U7dw49CJSttN_f35DLusIhZVxSdDmZtoe1VrFvbsQJ9lOmGyGL64pziMr5IucXF6accTnRFI-2t5qH77kZleDT9IExrqzT-kFBzsqBHFih2A5jN6mSUyUo/s400/victorygarden.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241827892103338274" border="0" /></a>This is one of the many gardens in the Fenway. The Victory Gardens were started during the Second World War to encourage people to grow vegetables since there was extensive food rationing. Now people grow mostly flowers. You can see that some of these gardens have been well attended for years.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpqVPnWYmqGdyCRUZI0cj_qLO5OuBxFLbhVsxpBwzM21Akso1XtjhIGk_a9UtEIrDkJwf4GbSxXDGgUxN1VbPd3hGXSC9t2XMuDoPnfNlwsD5mRKjogAXlw-cpW6LGkZ8svxmrxb20_S0/s1600-h/publicgarden.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpqVPnWYmqGdyCRUZI0cj_qLO5OuBxFLbhVsxpBwzM21Akso1XtjhIGk_a9UtEIrDkJwf4GbSxXDGgUxN1VbPd3hGXSC9t2XMuDoPnfNlwsD5mRKjogAXlw-cpW6LGkZ8svxmrxb20_S0/s400/publicgarden.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241827900249796130" border="0" /></a>After a leisurely picnic on a bench along Commonwealth Avenue, we came upon our destination, the Public Garden. I suppose the necklace would include the Common, but we were meeting Soma, who was fresh from the Boston Harbor Islands to share blackberries that she and a friend had picked.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYIFC8HHnLIzG4RAeAnITy0Nu3YqgEDfb_CcJVQXG5RahFFCx-PYdkIIL2SSasf_6jOCY4hWXk8H-9U6ZgH61PIiyD1l9GXqzN-dWb603C_zgP3HhNRhybSeYl_mhBNtx87WI231-m74o/s1600-h/fairboston.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYIFC8HHnLIzG4RAeAnITy0Nu3YqgEDfb_CcJVQXG5RahFFCx-PYdkIIL2SSasf_6jOCY4hWXk8H-9U6ZgH61PIiyD1l9GXqzN-dWb603C_zgP3HhNRhybSeYl_mhBNtx87WI231-m74o/s400/fairboston.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241828281278236354" border="0" /></a>This is the pond the Swan Boats ply.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmgGTNprrw7LYPql03zv0cY_fuDBbZeFzDeuElibeDM3Lp8BgJyE91S5ISWqcosuNIn0N5clxiWEb_0TFHKzzfh6hYYEpQKEBN_SfBF2NwMtMl0AIBY93dwUvZ9FN75a8yZTkR6NDeRvU/s1600-h/willow.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmgGTNprrw7LYPql03zv0cY_fuDBbZeFzDeuElibeDM3Lp8BgJyE91S5ISWqcosuNIn0N5clxiWEb_0TFHKzzfh6hYYEpQKEBN_SfBF2NwMtMl0AIBY93dwUvZ9FN75a8yZTkR6NDeRvU/s400/willow.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241828281810749762" border="0" /></a>Willows are probably my favourite trees in the world.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPQqXAb63ljWtURe_CgZ4orc9uwI25-BCq4QOfzFznOVPacnO4ku_PLz0qYXomcWG2BYnaV18ZugV3YbWqF5ORx706HRjzIdN3F9UDSqpA3emuXNrS45YPMAVSLT_sFSPwtoBvCsCLAM/s1600-h/waiting.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPQqXAb63ljWtURe_CgZ4orc9uwI25-BCq4QOfzFznOVPacnO4ku_PLz0qYXomcWG2BYnaV18ZugV3YbWqF5ORx706HRjzIdN3F9UDSqpA3emuXNrS45YPMAVSLT_sFSPwtoBvCsCLAM/s400/waiting.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241828286185815426" border="0" /></a>Waiting for the T. If you thought we were going to walk all the way back to Jamaica Plain after all that, then you crazy.<br /><br />All in all a perfect day.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-5015077528709401492008-06-02T00:39:00.001-04:002008-12-10T07:39:42.313-05:00Just money<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlz-cq3yzHxSbFj993xnQUpZW6Az9pB7jrnmuzu1YDTu2VCNwvDP-kcyXusNyDtwaLVOV5vqcqZzu31ElW88pM0iLNHmuzNftxty02vDJGbHv8XRImsiEeuSOVZBXPZISHY1m9SfCGDIE/s1600-h/just+money.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlz-cq3yzHxSbFj993xnQUpZW6Az9pB7jrnmuzu1YDTu2VCNwvDP-kcyXusNyDtwaLVOV5vqcqZzu31ElW88pM0iLNHmuzNftxty02vDJGbHv8XRImsiEeuSOVZBXPZISHY1m9SfCGDIE/s400/just+money.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191368301005418242" border="0" /></a>I've been finding money everywhere lately. I have lost track of how many dollars I've picked up off the ground in bits and pieces since January. So I've started either giving the coins I find to people or leaving them in tip jars so I can spread some of this luck around.<br /><br />I found the penny in the picture the other day by the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">busses</span></span> at Forest Hills. It's pretty mangled up and you can even see the zinc beneath the copper layer has been exposed. It's barely a penny any more, and I can't put my finger on what's so strange to me about that. When I picked it up, my first thought was, "Is that all money really is?" A symbol, a set of agreements, a collective hope, a zinc plug with a super thin layer of copper for show.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-71143583099865130502008-04-29T22:44:00.001-04:002008-12-10T07:39:42.407-05:00Sunset from my bedroom window<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW2JWOkbMJEcWxDDrXnS6wLJVWAI5KTFwxzH8acx64S_WPYr1zLvD_OmJcHh2ZpCGe37AjJQ4v5UAXMThEPqaxYdQwoLcm0o5H0FBu3hvtLTxj1LuQGvCPX5F7Eqp-PraS_CMMzCtIdOs/s1600-h/Sky+on+fire+from+BR.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW2JWOkbMJEcWxDDrXnS6wLJVWAI5KTFwxzH8acx64S_WPYr1zLvD_OmJcHh2ZpCGe37AjJQ4v5UAXMThEPqaxYdQwoLcm0o5H0FBu3hvtLTxj1LuQGvCPX5F7Eqp-PraS_CMMzCtIdOs/s400/Sky+on+fire+from+BR.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194852677086907858" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-style: italic;">You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait, be quiet, still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://www.hermitary.com/sayings/">Franz Kafka</a><br /></div>daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-66196923639635092132008-04-20T12:02:00.004-04:002008-12-10T07:39:44.193-05:00PonkapoagYesterday T & I decided to take a walk around <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Ponkapoag</span> Pond in the <a href="http://www.mass.gov/dcr/parks/metroboston/blue.htm">Blue Hills</a>. The forecasters had been predicting a rainy day, so the sunny blue skies were a welcome surprise for the morning. One of the numerous advantages to living in Jamaica Plain is our ready access to so many great outdoor areas. Then again, metro Boston is brimming with great green spaces.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjut95nq3uAjtLiHolLqYLoNIniUffL3MBfeE3mOjJUEk-mK3dbILzcPNRMLh65g3c8LWpNQ96xtn-OgU0TZ1w2ckkXRJwhrhRgYa4-XwP5DrZ5_KN9aZNJ1zBBCsN3L6CD7faQRAHJDTw/s1600-h/readingstone.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjut95nq3uAjtLiHolLqYLoNIniUffL3MBfeE3mOjJUEk-mK3dbILzcPNRMLh65g3c8LWpNQ96xtn-OgU0TZ1w2ckkXRJwhrhRgYa4-XwP5DrZ5_KN9aZNJ1zBBCsN3L6CD7faQRAHJDTw/s400/readingstone.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191358985221353106" border="0" /></a>I was rather taken with this rock right away, when we'd come down the hill closer to the water. I feel like I just need to know the right language and I'd be able to read whatever it's trying to tell me. The grooves do seem to tell of water that flowed along some mud, but why do they also make me think of flames?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkpr3u7CmPl39_iwt8Syvq4KDXZTjLtPxD3DMK-YYHjJ7f6XXvUzBGC-0CgmG_SZc0MOEgwuCbUHd3rjCbcQccKY1Bir3cseAt2LC2XGG5CxWMJGYdCUFCA0J4VgLlapbWoz7Nw_H3CpQ/s1600-h/swampy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkpr3u7CmPl39_iwt8Syvq4KDXZTjLtPxD3DMK-YYHjJ7f6XXvUzBGC-0CgmG_SZc0MOEgwuCbUHd3rjCbcQccKY1Bir3cseAt2LC2XGG5CxWMJGYdCUFCA0J4VgLlapbWoz7Nw_H3CpQ/s400/swampy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191358989516320418" border="0" /></a>This is the reading stone's neighbourhood. We're still in early spring, so the splotches of green are really vivid against the grey. Mind you, in places like the Arboretum, many of the trees are in full flower.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkKnaocGe9RYrm4DURdRZaX9OY2Qc2CgHFuMxQKjdV16xvEHlPSH-navOXOAWq24kxnH7XQs9vdYnEc3GsAw3HYtAZbeArdPJWNfhZX94ooM7u55KvcK3JN6uuEgVHcLOHEGLPqiJFK_w/s1600-h/gotcha.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkKnaocGe9RYrm4DURdRZaX9OY2Qc2CgHFuMxQKjdV16xvEHlPSH-navOXOAWq24kxnH7XQs9vdYnEc3GsAw3HYtAZbeArdPJWNfhZX94ooM7u55KvcK3JN6uuEgVHcLOHEGLPqiJFK_w/s400/gotcha.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191358989516320434" border="0" /></a>This was basking in the sun right in the middle of the path. Somehow I'd walked right past it without noticing, so I guess it decided to notice Trevor and lunge at him. And yes this picture was taken using the zoom feature. It's not until we got home that we broke out the Audubon Guide and identified the snake as a <span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Nerodia</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">sipedon</span></span>, a Northern Water Snake. Not poisonous, but who wants to be bitten by a snake?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0y7zn6Db2UbVv4SNC3FzUQFTOFdxoHXcMnHSCGFGlvfyacK3TvQIykSZdhlr7GSsgiob2PRmE7aK0T31yKPmfHWNjpdGQnQIbFfqluskEwFzoKIwiMD3bI76sW0i2fFDKYmeNnCVGas0/s1600-h/IMG_2797.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0y7zn6Db2UbVv4SNC3FzUQFTOFdxoHXcMnHSCGFGlvfyacK3TvQIykSZdhlr7GSsgiob2PRmE7aK0T31yKPmfHWNjpdGQnQIbFfqluskEwFzoKIwiMD3bI76sW0i2fFDKYmeNnCVGas0/s400/IMG_2797.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191359290164031218" border="0" /></a>Here is the attack victim recovering and reflecting on his luck.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-bBV6yNsRdDnD7wYpNCdZ0odLmNKwmGltvvhTD3ChWx4Y2qQeeIAxDfsHIqX14-hQ7P7hhwyS2n1gMtMSIi0LexUVhKVrZSyzcdVeJLzVBmhKplODoPdle2agv09_sw09AY6STDOUbNY/s1600-h/moi.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-bBV6yNsRdDnD7wYpNCdZ0odLmNKwmGltvvhTD3ChWx4Y2qQeeIAxDfsHIqX14-hQ7P7hhwyS2n1gMtMSIi0LexUVhKVrZSyzcdVeJLzVBmhKplODoPdle2agv09_sw09AY6STDOUbNY/s400/moi.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191358993811287746" border="0" /></a>And here's some joker who drags himself about the region wearing funny hats and orange, pondering the meaning of the word isolation, which comes from the Latin word for island, which makes said joker wonder what's so bad about islands & what's with the negative connotation?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimFRb6Ha8WqegJOhKXdh7LkZiv5blEQrkJ-GkPad8fgQAa71untonilrRMaR5g7vpT8_V3vv9_9qdgpYp32UAxcaARatZVYnEGn9iZcPqUBmqaLuTF508L_4-rd-ciK6vZD3UGXCiZZCo/s1600-h/boardwalk.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimFRb6Ha8WqegJOhKXdh7LkZiv5blEQrkJ-GkPad8fgQAa71untonilrRMaR5g7vpT8_V3vv9_9qdgpYp32UAxcaARatZVYnEGn9iZcPqUBmqaLuTF508L_4-rd-ciK6vZD3UGXCiZZCo/s400/boardwalk.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191358993811287762" border="0" /></a>This was marked on the trail guide as a boardwalk through the bog at the east end of the pond. I had pictured something a little more substantial, that wouldn't soak my new sneakers in Atlantic Cedar tea, but still found myself captivated by this little path. The boards were mostly steady, but occasionally sank under our weight. I'm looking forward to seeing how all this scenery changes over the seasons.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-18051420567438085782008-04-15T21:50:00.000-04:002008-12-10T07:39:44.519-05:00Daffodil morningI've been watching the new North Point Park in Cambridge emerge over the last several years. It's tucked away behind the Museum of Science Bridge at the very eastern tip of Cambridge - you can see it when you are on the train to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Lechmere</span>. Last fall it looked finished, but they hadn't gotten all the rails up along the water.<br /><br />Well, it's finally open and I'd been meaning to go and today I decided I had a few minutes before work started to make a detour.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcsxr_uGoVnok_ZfL6volcIEiMiTIhY2iAkBn8evQf5YYut8zJcZdptYyM3xm39oF7MpGjmZAZ2KXljadHTqhQweo4BJnLAt4cihUyNHFSd2L1aURE-77rPLKUUit0Ll7C4yyJ5IxCAbA/s1600-h/IMG_2784.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcsxr_uGoVnok_ZfL6volcIEiMiTIhY2iAkBn8evQf5YYut8zJcZdptYyM3xm39oF7MpGjmZAZ2KXljadHTqhQweo4BJnLAt4cihUyNHFSd2L1aURE-77rPLKUUit0Ll7C4yyJ5IxCAbA/s400/IMG_2784.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191355716751240818" border="0" /></a>So this is what it looks like when you walk under the bridge. I'd walked along the bridge numerous times, countless times, but never under it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFhLjMBBAmg0GVNhxkZyu7QSN8NKVl8nKKcuYwCrbKQiVKQ3bPFWAB5WoCv-cePYtwPz2vqIjzD7CzfymlPFczg4SpvsMmQpSX41Z0ZgqF9pnW7I4OBvkkquwN-r9MDL8WGA0gel6sOQo/s1600-h/IMG_2785.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFhLjMBBAmg0GVNhxkZyu7QSN8NKVl8nKKcuYwCrbKQiVKQ3bPFWAB5WoCv-cePYtwPz2vqIjzD7CzfymlPFczg4SpvsMmQpSX41Z0ZgqF9pnW7I4OBvkkquwN-r9MDL8WGA0gel6sOQo/s400/IMG_2785.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191355721046208130" border="0" /></a>And this is what greeted me as soon as I walked in: daffodils! They have planted daffodils all over the park. It was very quiet and the nicest surprise was all the birds chirping about. I think it would be a good thing to stop at a park and sit in the sun listening to birds before going to work in the morning. It would certainly be a nice antidote to the deadening effect the train sometimes has. And I imagine it would do wonders to ease the agitation of driving.<br /><br />The rest of the day was coloured and lightened by my morning detour.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-33828151693988606112008-04-05T21:18:00.001-04:002008-12-10T07:39:44.957-05:00Nones of April<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVpI0qVWc6B0oc856g6QREnkLnXZOyS9wX-nNlahC3-xsMTLRXx1cygjxvvB1J19Kw_hGm0iLR9xVTrTivbQDptmbN634jTYrO5OuvUdzvweP-_zW_8qBZkUwTZqB6XjyOTKVST79ap5c/s1600-h/IMG_2750.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186574780631883490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVpI0qVWc6B0oc856g6QREnkLnXZOyS9wX-nNlahC3-xsMTLRXx1cygjxvvB1J19Kw_hGm0iLR9xVTrTivbQDptmbN634jTYrO5OuvUdzvweP-_zW_8qBZkUwTZqB6XjyOTKVST79ap5c/s400/IMG_2750.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />So Trevor found this branch on the ground and decided to stick it in some water. I relocated it to this spot by the window on my dresser. It was popping into bloom when I left for Florida last weekend. The flowers were, shall we say, past peak when I got back. Still it was a magical thing to have happen.<br /><br />Today D, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">T and</span> I met Sat and event called <a href="http://www.prasantmusic.com/">Evolving</a> <a href="http://www.malinisrinivasan.com/homepage.swf">Traditions</a> at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Wellesley</span> College. It was put together by S's friend, and now my neighbour, who is a professor there. The dancing and music were top-notch, as was the food. I had never been on the campus before, and was quite impressed. I always find it a good sign when an older, established institution is unafraid to bring on some modern architecture.<br /><br />* * *<br /><br />I finished the book <em><a href="http://www.threecupsoftea.com/">Three Cups of Tea</a></em>, after reading it for one of the book clubs I belong to. I strongly recommend it not because it was great literature, but because it is an inspiring story, and a counter to all those who say that one person can't make a difference. Though it did make me wonder why I didn't start schools in Haiti or something. I've gotten to a point where I realise that it's more productive to see what I can do than to beat myself up for what I haven't done. Greg <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Mortenson</span>, the subject of the book, is doing good work and I only wish that all the money we have poured into the abyss of war had been given to <a href="http://penniesforpeace.org/home.html">organisations</a> like <a href="http://www.ikat.org/">his</a> instead.<br /><br />Like any good depiction of a person who does such good work, it steered away from hagiography by illuminating some of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Mortenson's</span> flaws, though not as much as Tracy Kidder did Paul Farmer's in <em>Mountains Beyond Mountains</em>. If such people are portrayed as saints, it makes the regular folk think that they are too small to emulate them. <em>Three Cups of Tea</em> doesn't do that. Still, anyone who thinks education is some pie-in-the-sky idea that we can deal with after "security" is established, well, the two need to come together.<br /><br />* * *<br /><br />In other book news, I just got a whole bunch of poetry translations from <a href="http://actionbooks.org/">Action Books</a>. One of the editors was at Harvard at the same time I was. They have a focus on Scandinavian poetry, which is a fascination of mine. And luckily most of the books are bilingual.<br /><br />It's poetry month, but instead of writing a poem every I think I'm just going to read one every day.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-30656712342559296782008-04-01T21:08:00.003-04:002008-04-04T14:25:18.956-04:00Happy New Year!Well, in the old (really) old days, this would have been the start of the year. What better day than today to start a new year? It's spring, despite the bare trees and gray skies. This morning as I walked up the hill to the cemetery, I noticed that the brambles have gone from being stick brown to having just the faintest ghost of green hovering about them. When you look directly it's hard to see, but there nonetheless.<br /><br />I came into the office this morning after a long weekend away. It was nice to be back. I like the hubbub and the interactions. Apparently our society has reached the point where most people hate their jobs, or so I read somewhere. Thankfully I am not among those people. I love my job as much as I love a nice crispy apple. Really, there aren't many things lovelier than a crispy apple, especially if you've grown up on St. Thomas, where crispy apples are heartbreakingly rare. I don't know how I came to deserve such good fortune, but I'm going to enjoy it as long as I can. And what do you know? They had crispy green apples at the gym today!<br /><br />But enough of this giddy exultation. The sky was moving today, rainy but warm. Momentous. I lost my <a href="http://www.miamiherald.com/512/story/471708.html">uncle</a> on Easter, one of my dearest <a href="http://feldmantwins.blogspot.com/">friends </a>lost her father on Good Friday. It's sad, too sad. So no resolutions for this new year, just hope.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-13817246006369901492008-03-21T20:01:00.000-04:002008-12-10T07:39:45.252-05:00Boox!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99RaxtrSRErDQ0a8d9GJK7nLJZCGCLxzk7B3nkjfLFeZI3Uhd55bYyOmaSn4u1Tta3wZk5ls2yo6tn1cAidTCH_r3JitkhHgcrNR97hWtWS-lioTHziyfOQ5sXBYL3dzeAvaB4aYxnos/s1600-h/boox.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99RaxtrSRErDQ0a8d9GJK7nLJZCGCLxzk7B3nkjfLFeZI3Uhd55bYyOmaSn4u1Tta3wZk5ls2yo6tn1cAidTCH_r3JitkhHgcrNR97hWtWS-lioTHziyfOQ5sXBYL3dzeAvaB4aYxnos/s400/boox.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180330645507808930" border="0" /></a>So these are the little beauties sitting on my shelf. I used to have a lot more, but I, unlike many other bibliophiles, found that I was quite able to part with books. Maybe moving every year had something to do with it. Or maybe moving in with <a href="http://feldmantwins.blogspot.com">L</a> & M back in '99 did it. They were able to move all their belongings in a few trips in a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">VW</span> bug (an old one!), whereas I needed like three trips with a U-Haul van.<br /><br />So I pared down. Maybe a little too hastily at times. There are a few books I miss, but I do live in a part of the world where I’m never too far from a library.<br /><br />This is what’s left. I have read every book I own (except for the four I’<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ve</span> acquired in the last month). It took years. There are a few I’<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ve</span> been looking forward to re-reading, but most of them are just kind of sitting there. And it’s become less a matter of them taking up space than a matter of letting someone else have a turn at reading them.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjhtwGr4NQiTnnSn76kBjqLPPEl3wib1cj7Qa9KKU_EJnSMSkMvWtGBREEihugezJSw4iUSm3o6okmv_pTd3XX5aXxQg08PL6dJvNBDyEI7AZ0xR9yQcPS1EG9tIr13hW_ORbTnf4BKRQ/s1600-h/IMG_2746.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjhtwGr4NQiTnnSn76kBjqLPPEl3wib1cj7Qa9KKU_EJnSMSkMvWtGBREEihugezJSw4iUSm3o6okmv_pTd3XX5aXxQg08PL6dJvNBDyEI7AZ0xR9yQcPS1EG9tIr13hW_ORbTnf4BKRQ/s400/IMG_2746.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180330654097743538" border="0" /></a>In other news, yesterday was the first day of spring. I decided to stroll along the river at lunchtime the other day, for the first time in a long time. Everything I could see was a watery sort of blue-grey.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-59453031036258168652007-09-09T22:04:00.000-04:002007-09-09T22:21:49.956-04:00Back to school<span class="on down" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_CreateLink" title="Link" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 8);ButtonMouseDown(this);"></span>Tonight it's cool out. The leaves are changing early this year because it's been so dry. Last weekend every moving truck in the city was occupied. It was a good summer. Highlights included the <a href="http://www.landmarksorchestra.org/">free classical concerts at the Hatch Shell</a>, <a href="http://www.freeshakespeare.org/">Shakespeare in the Common</a>, my new <a href="http://www.seprafilm.com">job,</a> the <a href="http://www.newfs.org/garden.htm">Garden in the Woods</a>, among many, many other things.<br /><br />Always so much left undone, but that only means there's plenty left to do! The <a href="http://www.brooklinepoetryseries.com"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Brookline</span> Poetry Series</a> started back up on Friday, and was delightful as always. I'm looking forward to one of dearest friends visiting at the end of the month. I signed up to be a host for two first years at Harvard, so I look forward to showing them around the area. And I am planning to learn Swedish.<br /><br />Delight of delights, the <a href="http://blogthoreau.blogspot.com">Thoreau blog</a> seems to be daily again.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-43611338064892374792007-07-21T12:16:00.001-04:002007-07-21T12:16:53.814-04:00The Dirdy Birdy (full version)<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><p><object height='350' width='425'><param value='http://youtube.com/v/75frrKJ3jhU' name='movie'/><embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/75frrKJ3jhU'/></object></p></div>daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-58004317126020571522007-05-09T22:26:00.000-04:002007-05-15T15:19:42.836-04:00HiatusingI think I’m spending too much time looking at screens. Instead of trying to update this blog three times a week, I think I shall cut it down to once a week, at least while I’m finishing this project. I’ll keep updating my <a href="http://sttnotebook.blogspot.com/">St. Thomas blog</a> daily, though. Well, until next Friday when I fly back to Boston.<br /><br />Oh yeah, so it was funny: my Mom had saved all my Harvard papers from back when I was applying. It’s a funny little time capsule. You know what I said my plans for the future were when I was seventeen? I would study social sciences and work at a multinational company. So I guess I haven’t actually gone too far from that.<br /><br />One last thing – go to <a href="http://sitonyourhands.blogspot.com/2007/05/doppelgangers.html">wiggle worm</a> and check out my doppelganger.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2126306588029921213.post-70921471866481845702007-05-04T14:31:00.000-04:002008-12-10T07:39:45.529-05:00Third World?So there was a very interesting discussion that erupted the night I was watching the fireworks. Somehow it was brought up that there are people who consider St. Thomas to be part of the Third World. Well, I have long counted myself among those people, but I refrained from joining the conversation because people seemed rather indignant at the proposal. But then again, I suppose that many people think "Third World" has negative connotations, whereas I find it more neutral and certainly less insulting than "developing world" or any other of the other alternatives. And it means at least we don't number among the nations that went out and colonized others.<br /><br />Later on, though, I mentioned it to my cousin who had been at the party and another friend. My cousin asked me how I can consider St. Thomas Third World when I've been to a country like Haiti. But what about all the countries that are far better off than Haiti, but still considered Third World? Then I brought up the fact that we have neighborhoods like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Savan</span>, Nadir and Smith Bay. Then the power outages. But those are all aesthetic.<br /><br />I remember when I worked at the law firm one summer in college and I looked at some demographics for the Virgin Islands. That's when I realized what part of the world I was in. Poverty levels, birth rates, infant mortality, distribution of wealth, it all points to the fact that we are not on par with the industrialized world. My friend decided that we are a Third World society with First World amenities. I can accept that. I'm sure they said the same about Suriname when it was still Dutch Guiana, and look at it now.<br /><br />Funny then, that we had a power outage the other night and this picture occurred to me. I'll title it "Third World but with First World Amenities".<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoR9Ceugt_BDzrMfz4uzTFP9vSXVgfH1FhuTNnMNxkvt5_rzCScbJIj7YL5ordPenD_yh5R5o2nTpM2uEzznhvklt_C0aWx5spXEJ5-XgNmAkm7Mb_v-Jpv0io2F45sCxkDP8AhIiue78/s1600-h/IMG_2497.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoR9Ceugt_BDzrMfz4uzTFP9vSXVgfH1FhuTNnMNxkvt5_rzCScbJIj7YL5ordPenD_yh5R5o2nTpM2uEzznhvklt_C0aWx5spXEJ5-XgNmAkm7Mb_v-Jpv0io2F45sCxkDP8AhIiue78/s400/IMG_2497.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060756129768863986" border="0" /></a>daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0