This Wordsworth sonnet came up in conversation last week, and I hadn’t thought of it in a long time. It’s a good poem to think of if you haven’t been hiking for a while, or if you’ve been writing too much Microsoft marketing materials, or if your roommate has found a Russian pen pal who wants to come visit. Very soothing poem, I’d say:
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune,
It moves us not.–Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
And in the same spirit, if you feel it’s all too much but you don’t want to read a poem, take a look at THIS:
BoingBoing has been posting some good stuff lately. Excellent.
It just gets better, really: My brother was joking that instead of a dog, I should get a Chia Pet. Then, in true brother fashion, he decided no, a Chia Pet was a bad idea because I probably wouldn’t be able to keep even that alive. So I saw him Sunday and he and his wife had found me this:
It’s a PLUSH Chia Pet, one that cannot be killed, no matter what, and will always “grow” and always love me. Its name is “Puppy.” I love Puppy. Sherlock Bowie loves Puppy. Life is grand.
|So I got the macaroni and cheese made this weekend, and it did not disappoint. (Anything that calls for 3/4 pound combined white cheddar and fontina is going to be good.) I looked for a good recipe online and found one, along with the history of mac and cheese, on marthastewart.com. (Apparently, Thomas Jefferson liked it so much he served it at dinner parties. Who knew?)
“It all started during the age of European colonization, when seafaring men transported dried macarone—one of the few staples that could survive a year aboard ship—from Italy to Britain and to the American colonies.
American colonists did not have the selection of fresh produce and other ingredients that the Italians had; their meals were improvised from a larder of fresh or sour milk, stale bread, and pork drippings. So the imported pasta would often be served with a simple white sauce—milk thickened with flour and butter. Sometimes it was baked in a casserole with buttered breadcrumbs on top. A recipe for a casserole of macaroni, white sauce, and grated yellow cheese was first recorded in the “Boston Cooking School Cookbook” in 1896.”
And look what else you can find online!
1. Did you know that women in the U.S. did not have the right to vote until 1920? That’s only 76 years, folks–I know people who were alive in 1920.
1a. Women who did not vote: Now, really. This is still kind of a big deal.
2. It’s hard to cook when you’re sick. I’ve had a sore throat all week, which makes swallowing very difficult, which means endive and the makings of a Frenchified, gratineed macaroni and cheese are languishing in the refrigerator.
2a. Thanks god for frozen cheese ravioli, so easy to make, so soft to swallow.
3. I think I might have to get an imaginary dog, to go with my imaginary boyfriend, because people don’t want to give dogs to single working ladies who live in apartments. Even though they’re nice ladies. Here’s a lyric to a Neko Case song that went through my head today: “Her jaw aches from wanting…” You can read all the lyrics here. (They are not about dogs.) But still.
So remember the picture I lifted from Cute Overload of this goat with enormous ears? Well, take a look at Jack, the schnauzer-mule deer mix. How ’bout them ears, huh? Jack is in Idaho. Maybe he wants to come live with me! (To my roommate, if he’s reading: At least I don’t want to adopt a goat. Or a monkey.)
Yep, that’s me. With a real live alpaca. I spent Saturday morning holding alpacas by the necks while the owner of Blue Moon Ranch trimmed their toenails. I talked to them all in a soothing voice, although it didn’t prevent two of them from trying to shake me off their neck like a rag doll. Then I got to help halter train a few. This is Bindi, who was a good girl and only tried to run away once.