All Purls. No Swine.
. . . from Geoffrey Chaucer, who, as with so many other things, is often credited with starting it all. His dream vision poem, The Parliament of Fowls, was written about 1380 and begins with the narrator (who seems not to know how to love, has perhaps never been in love, and will very likely never… Continue reading Happy Seynt Valentyn’s Day!
Nothing is plumb, level, or square: the studs are bowed, the joists are shaky by nature, no piece fits any other piece without a gap or pinch, and bent nails dance all over the surfacing like maggots. By Christ I am no carpenter. I built the roof for myself, the walls for myself, the floors… Continue reading A Pre-Valentine’s Day Poem To Those Who Matter: Love Song: I and Thou
LOL. Dearest Andrea: Don't quit your day job. Love, RWKJ Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor… Continue reading Andrea Mitchell Puts Her Ivy-League Degree in English Literature* to Good Use
One of my more popular posts has proven to be this one, written in October 2020, about my hacking efforts with my two eight-foot hay feeders made using Premier Panels, in which I described the process of turning them into four four-foot long feeders. I regularly get notifications that it's been viewed by others, and… Continue reading Midwinter’s Update on my Premier Panel Hay Feeders
Niccolò Machiavelli is best known for his work The Prince, written in 1513. Today, his name is often associated with political deceit and deviousness. To be Machiavellian is to behave unscrupulously. The actual man was quite different than his modern reputation. He was a staunch believer in republican government, and was viewed as an honest… Continue reading Book Review By Seawriter: A Novel About Niccolò Machiavelli
Ahhh, “Meerkat Love.” Remember that hoary old song from the mid-1970s by that odd duo, Captain and Tennille? Yeah, I’m sorry to say that I remember it too. (A note to the unwary: I know that’s not the actual title of the song, but close enough for gubmint work, and as a “hook” for the purpose… Continue reading Cry Me a Cockroach: A Valentine’s Day Gift For Closure
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen… Continue reading Winter On My Farm
“Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It’s splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world.”–Anne Shirley When I was a child, and like many young girls, I loved Lucy Maud Montgomery’s* stories of Anne (with an “e”) Shirley and her guardians, Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert, and… Continue reading Kindred Spirits
I'm grateful for the opportunity to post, with permission, my Ricochet friend Seawriter's book reviews here. This one is particularly interesting, involving a book I haven't read yet, but which encompasses a subject dear to my heart, whether it be via a familial obligation, professional expertise, or simply a heartfelt interest. One of the most… Continue reading Book Review By Seawriter: On Reading the Enemy’s Email
She was born in Birmingham on January 23, 1912, into an England that was rending itself apart. Suffragettes demanding a woman’s right to vote were chaining themselves to Parliament’s railings, smashing storefront windows in Oxford Street, and living-room windows in Downing Street. Newly-empowered Socialist labor unions were flexing their muscle, threatening strikes in coal mining,… Continue reading Jenny Alice May Mapson, R.I.P.