aftermath

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Archive for February 3rd, 2008

Super Sunday Chef

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Rainy Superbowl Sunday down here in Houston, but the rain lets up in time for me to grill burgers for lunch. Susan made deviled eggs and tater tots, and I added macaroni salad and Sunkist’s new orange float to mine.

bumper sticker [www.internetbumperstickers.com] - adrien

Written by macheide

3 February 2008 at 1:30 pm

Posted in Adrien

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French Toast

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French ToastI was up early doing two pieces of French toast for Kelly before he headed off to work.

Now I have the coffee percolating and am starting on the first of eight more pieces of French toast for Susan, Nat and me to share for Sunday breakfast. Been more than a decade since I used to do this every Sunday morning. Maybe I won’t wait another decade to do it again.

Behind me is a cake Nat made for a Superbowl party she’ll be going to tonight. (Click the image for a larger version of the pic to see the cake better.)

bumper sticker [www.internetbumperstickers.com] - adrien

Written by macheide

3 February 2008 at 8:57 am

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crossing crowns

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we sought permission from th professors for an exercise on which we were embarking. i had performed it th previous year, but had done so without telling anyone other than th one recipient
 
i’d used a black knapsack, passing it to my confidante every time i had completed a villanelle in a series i had been composing for her: a set of 21 linked villanelles. she would keep th knapsack for a few days to a week, then pass it back with comment, which would lead th direction of my further work on subsequent villanelles
 
[although i remained asleep, i did realize – as i can do and often do during such sequences – that this was a dream, and i questioned myself as to whether i had in fact ever written such a series of villanelles. even in th dream, i knew that outside th dream i had not done so, but that in th dream i had just done so; and many of th phrases from my villanelle series were still fresh, so fresh that i struggled with th dream, thinking that if i could remember enough of th lines, th rest would link together enough for me to recreate th entire series when i awoke. but i resisted waking up at that point, because i knew what we were requesting of our professors, and that i wanted to watch more than to wake and write what might have been]
 
passing my black knapsack with its villanelle and commentary back and forth with my confidante th previous year had eventually aroused suspicions among our colleagues, who thought we might be cheating on our studies, doing each other’s work or helping out with tests in some manner. this time we wanted to have at least th professors know in advance, so there would be no question raised about anything improper going on
 
i was keeping my black knapsack, but my confidante had a rich royal blue one, and a friend of hers had a deep purple one. each of those two were going to simultaneously perform th same writing exercise i had done, but to do so crossing each other, speaking and responding to each other through their corresponding series of villanelles, exchanging their colored knapsacks each time they each had a new poem to share with th other
 
and with their permission, i was planning to come in after i’d seen th first three or four pairs of villanelles, composing a new series of 21 more villanelles that would extend my original set, yet would cross with th two new series being composed by th blue and th purple poets
 
our professors heartily encouraged us. several of our colleagues liked th idea and thought to try their hand at it, but were seeing it too lightly at first, prompting me to point out an additional constraint: no rhyme could be repeated during th entire series of 21 villanelles, except to return in a circle back to th beginning with th final villanelle. one of th professors, who had recognized this feature already in his reading of my original series, pointed out that this constraint essentially produced a new complex unified form: although there would be 21 villanelles, it stood as though it were one single poem of a long form with internal purity in its rhyme scheme. i tried to illustrate th constraint to several colleagues by pointing to th famous dylan thomas villanelle by way of example, pointing out that those first two rhymes used there could then never again appear in th villanelle series, except in th final villanelle to return back to reference to th first
 
[in th dream, although i called it th dylan thomas villanelle, i was actually quoting sylvia plath’s – “i shut my eyes and all the world drops dead, i lift the lids and all is born again, i think i made you up inside my head”]
 
i then pointed out that it was almost tritely obvious that since th entire series needed to stand as a single poem, th entire sequence needed to address a single theme, although of course progression of that theme within th series ought also be sufficient to keep th poem from languishing as merely a stale academic exercise
 
by this point in my discussion with th few of my colleagues who remained intrigued, we were near th top of th highest hill in th winding streets of th old part of a city. my two closest professors gave me their warm blessings on th 3-way exercise on which i and my confidante and her friend were embarking, then added holiday greetings
 
i then returned down th hill th way we’d been walking while discussing th poetry form to where my vehicle had been left for me by th professors. th keys were not in th ignition as i’d recalled them being left, but a fellow student held them out for me, having pocketed them for safekeeping
 
Bumper Sticker [www.internetbumperstickers.com/] - oneirra

Written by macheide

3 February 2008 at 4:04 am

Posted in oneirra