I’ve decided it’s time to re-adopt a habit I formed in my youth and get an imaginary boyfriend (past ones included Peter O’Toole and Schubert). My new imaginary boyfriend will be a combination of the David Bowie character from Labyrinth (we knew nothing good could come from that) and Sherlock Holmes. I just can’t decide whether his name should be David Holmes or Sherlock Bowie.
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I Say Oyster, You Say:
So I spent the weekend cooking and knitting again. (I know.) I made oyster chowder, and remembered this passage from the sixth Little House on the Prairie book, By the Shores of Silver Lake:
“First, there was oyster soup. In all her life, Laura had never tasted anything so good as that savory, fragrant, sea-tasting hot milk, with golden dots of melted cream and black specks of pepper on its top, and the little dark canned oysters at its bottom.”
That was New Year’s dinner, 1880, in the middle of what would become North Dakota. In all her life, Laura had probably never even tasted an oyster.
Thursday Night Guilty Pleasure
David Bowie is brilliant, Jim Henson was brilliant, I’m suddenly 10 years old and going to some now-forgotten girl’s basement sleepover party–it’s Labyrinth! I have to confess I own the soundtrack, and the track during the ballroom scene is actually pretty fab, as far as lyrics go. Here, I’ll share them!
“There’s such a sad love
Deep in your eyes, a kind of pale jewel
Open and closed within your eyes
I’ll place the sky within your eyes
There’s such a fooled heart
Beating so fast in search of new dreams
A love that will last within your heart
I’ll place the moon within your heart
As the pain sweeps through
Makes no sense for you
Every thrill has gone
Wasn’t too much fun at all
But I’ll be there for you-oo-oo
As the world falls down
Falling
Falling down
Falling in love
I’ll paint you mornings of gold
I’ll spin you valentine evenings
Though we’re strangers till now
We’re choosing the path between the stars
I’ll lay my love between the stars…”
And then you repeat the chorus a few times while some Muppets dance around. Anyway, you have to love lyrics that spell out the “you-oo-oo’s” and remind you of when you were 10. Especially when sung by David Bowie.
Said In A High Kitty Voice:
Chestnuts (Not Roasting)
Looks like what I thought was a picture of Bombay Sapphire on yesterday’s post was instead an advertisement. Damn advertisers. My apologies. (The picture today, by the way, is of chestnuts.) I do like chestnuts. From W.B. Yeats: “O chestnut tree, great-rooted blossomer,/ Are you the leaf, the branches, or the bole? O body swayed to music, o brightening glance,/ How can you tell the dancer from the dance?”
Things That Go Through Your Head While Making Risotto
1. Boy, this takes a long time.
2. What is the etymology of gin, anyway?*
3. I blame the books of my young adulthood for a lot.
4. “I am Lazarus, come from the dead
Come back to tell you all, I will tell you all.”
5. I want a curly grey dog. I would call him Sasha.
Item 4 is T.S. Eliot, from “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.” I almost never remember that part; I think having to help (well, cut) my roommate out of his mummy costume this past weekend brought it to mind. (Long story. But look how literature is appropriate for any situation!)
*from the Dutch word for juniper, “genever”. Who knew?
Uncollected
You may have noticed from the posting times lately that I’m pretty much rolling out of bed and writing something–maybe not the best plan, since it leads to obcervations like this:
1. Orrin Hatch’s re-election billboards (of which there are two I have to see on the way home from my parents’ house) make him look like a cadaver.
2. The word “whiskey” came from Scottish Gaelic uisge beatha and Irish uisce beatha, both from the Latin aqua vitae, or “water of life.”
Tomorrow: The etymology of gin! Oh, boy!
Knitting, Part 1
I didn’t get the finished project photographed last night, but really, the UNfinished projects are so much more impressive:
We have an ivory scarf for a birthday present in the front, the bluetocking sock yarn, a sample skein of the grey alpaca that will be the travelling cloak (for me), red merino/cashmere tweed for a Christmas scarf for my roommate, two kinds of varigated yarn for a secret Christmas present, a second green fingerless glove for a welcome-home present, and some “gingersnap” colored yarn for a chunky vest for me.
But I did get the black alpaca shrug done. Slowly but surely…
Books of My Childhood
Watch out: I got a package yesterday of paperbacks I loved as a “young adult” (that is, an 11-15 year old). Yes, one of them is a horse book: My Friend Flicka has a sequel, Thunderhead. (There’s a third to make a triolgy, but it’s out of print.) The other two are by Lucy Montgomery, the author of the beloved Anne of Green Gables series. Watch out, indeed.
I know pictures have been scarce this week. I’ve been meaning to take pictures of some knitting projects, both finished and un. I’ll try to get that done tonight.