Wednesday, July 27, 2011

by the book

If only, alas!, they were true, I would tell you a tale of school woodshop classes littered with surreal birdhouses whose pieces never fit; of maps and directions unreadable because of the most basic philosophical consideration, what is right? and what is left?; of the heartbreak of losing a house to fire or flood or the apocalyptic horrors of losing a series of houses to fires and floods; of having a mind distracted by terminally ill parents and a dog with an inflamed heart; and with any of these considerations, thus, the unfinished project, merely an attempt to alter the nature of the universe, doomed from the start, and so no harm done.



reading
finally finally finally went to the Museum of Natural History. Meteorites are cool. Dinosaurs are cool. What fun indeed, plus two newly found bookshops!

weather
we've had tornadoes, which is crazy

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

piping plovers

I listened, though. I've been listening to these old men tell their tales of golden beds of crustaceans for several years now. It started as a joke, a toast with a bottle of beer before a lobster roll, a falsely husky voice giving thanks to the great crustacean of the sea, a prayer for the continued health of those upon whom we were about to feast. Then one year, depressed by the job market and up late helping a bottle of vodka realize its full potential, I submitted the same grant to every single grant awarding body that was listed in the catalog that was in the library discard pile: Grants for Artists, Writers, Historians, and Sociologists, all compiled by The Institute in 1988.



reading
Miss Hargreaves / Frank Baker
The little prince / written and illustrated by Antoine de Saint-Exupery

weather
hot hot July hot, all in!

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

absenteeism

The majority of the main residence hall has been preserved as it was at your last visit, within the very clear written guidelines of the contract, although certain small alterations may be noticeable due to circumstances quite beyond our control. The source of the fire which destroyed much of the main house was traced to a squirrel's nest built into the walls of the house, and while we were able to reconstruct the vast majority of the furnishings and decorative objects, the shades of the brickwork and limestones which are worked into the flooring and masonry throughout the building are ever so slightly tinged with an orange cast, but we trust this variation in the color scheme will not be offensive. The lamps, oil paintings, knick-knacks, and books were all perfectly matched using the cross-referenced library and archive housed in the fire safe stored off site, and photograph albums and scrapbooks were meticulously reconstructed.



reading
Lost and found : three by Shaun Tan.

weather
swimming! kayaking! full July moon!

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

imperial pint

No, you're quite right, it wasn't all in the secret arm of the publican: there are reports that the basements link to old smuggling caves on the coast, and when the tunnels were closed up officially after the war it changed the way the beer sat in the basement. There used to right enough be music and dancing most nights, then the bands started skipping our town and heading just to the cities, which was well and good for them and for the cities, but not so good for us. We've still kept up a pretty good team roster for darts, of course, and come the World Cup plenty of locals will stop in to see the action on the big screen, but it's rare indeed to have youngsters like yourself stop in.



weather
steaming summer rain on asphalt

reading
no more gothic novels before bedtime