Skip to main content

Quiet again

All the holiday company, including dogs, have left. The house is quiet once again, and perhaps my dear cat Nicholas can regain his equilibrium. He enjoys human visitors, but he wasn't too sure about those dogs.

I look forward to this time of year and to getting the whole family together for the only time during the year, but, as my daughter said today, it is very tiring having to be so nice all the time, and it's a great relief to get back to our normal grouchy, grinchy selves.

It is hard for me to be too grouchy though since I made out like a bandit with Santa. From yard sculptures and books to my piece de resistance, my new Kindle, Santa was very good to me. I must have been a better girl than I thought I was, or maybe Santa was easily duped.

Now, with my Kindle and with all the other paper books I have on my reading shelf, it may get even quieter around here for the rest of winter. Who needs television, radio, DVDs, or CDs when you've got books to read?

So, come on, winter weather, do your worst. I've got all the entertainment I need to keep me occupied.
Labels:

Comments

  1. Susan December 26, 2009 at 3:31 PM

    You'll have to give us a review of your new Kindle when you get a chance. And tell us what your first e-book will be :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Dorothy BordersDecember 26, 2009 at 5:06 PM

    My first purchase of a book was "U is for Undertow," the latest Kinsey Millhone mystery. Today I added several free books - Charles Darwin's "Origin of Species," and most of Jane Austen's oeuvre that I didn't have on paper. I have to restrain myself. I could go wild with this thing!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...
19 comments
Read more

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters!  Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...
6 comments
Read more

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...
24 comments
Read more