So the Salt Lake County Fair and demolition derby on Saturday was quite a bit more than I expected (there was even a marriage proposal over the PA system!). We looked at all the livestock exhibits but I didn’t see any horses. During the search for horses in the empty stables, the lovely Amber commented, “This must be what the Apocalypse will be like: Just me and Karen, looking for some horses.”
My excellent father Frank was born 59 years ago today. He knows how to tie knots, make furniture, and fly model airplanes; he can fix anything; he taught me to clean as I go; he has a catgorical knowledge of The Music Man, sailing ships, and how things work; he reads voraciously; he’s pretty damn tough; he taught me the meaning of the phrase, “That would be the easy way, but it wouldn’t be the cowboy way”; and he gave me my curly hair. So I think I’m pretty lucky to have a dad like him and I hope he has a happy birthday.
1. The Salt Lake County Fair’s Demolition Derby. It’s going on for TWO NIGHTS. I have tickets for tomorrow night. And the lovely Amber and I will look at the exhibits before the derby, including the livestock. Last year, I saw a palomino paint. (Not this actual guy, although he’s very nice. I’ll remember my camera this time.)
2. What I should wear to the derby.(Still undecided.)
3. Mercedes the cria sitting on a carpeting scrap Linda put in the barn for her (yesterday’s Blue Moon Ranch update):
I was going to work on the sewing project last night. Then I was going to work on the knitting project. But instead I ended up re-reading the second half of Jane Eyre. I found a good site from the Bronte Parsonage Museum in Yorkshire that gives a quick biography of the girls.
At least we can all be gald we’re probably not going to die of tuberculosis.
For a book that ends so badly for its heroine, The Portrait of a Lady begins delightfully:
Under certain circumstances there are few hours in life more
agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as
afternoon tea…Those that I have in mind in beginning to unfold this simple history offered an admirable setting to an innocent pastime. The implements of the little feast had been disposed upon the lawn of an old English country-house, in what I should call the perfect middle of a splendid summer afternoon.
Part of the afternoon had waned, but much of it was left, and what was left was of the finest and rarest quality. Real dusk would not arrive for many hours; but the flood of summer light had begun to ebb, the air had grown mellow, the shadows were long upon the smooth, dense turf. They lengthened slowly, however, and the scene expressed that sense of leisure still to come which is perhaps the chief source of one’s enjoyment of such a scene at such an hour. From five o’clock to eight is on certain occasions a little eternity; but on such an occasion as this the interval could be only an eternity of pleasure.
“That sense of leisure still to come which is perhaps the chief source of one’s enjoyment of such a scene at such an hour”–perfect. I think that might be why I like the thought of cocktails and hors d’ouevres every afternoon so much. If only…
In another example of a site interesting in its single-mindedness, here’s a compilation a gentleman in Canada has made of big things in his province. (That’s him next to the giant burrowing owls in front of the seniors’ home in Leader.)
In other news, here’s a word I learned that’s very fun to say: hortatory (HOAR-tah-tor-ee). It means “tending or aiming to exhort.” Someone could give a hortatory speech, for example.
Oh, words. Oh, huge fiberglass sculptures of burrowing owls.
1. This pattern from Simplicity. (I like how I keep getting more projects started while not finishing the projects I’m working on.)
2. Mission statements. Never, ever write one for your company. Unless you can actually make it say something anyone would care about reading.
3. Sleeping in.
4. The latest from Blue Moon Ranch. (This is Pippin.)