A Sweet Unrest

Their giggling progress

I am addicted to Instagram - it's kind of like Twitter only with pictures so there's no worry about spelling/being witty, making it perfect for parents of young children and other perennially exhausted individuals.  I also recently learned how to make nifty photo collages on my phone.  Here you see the result of my two new pastimes.  You might notice the prominence of glitter nail polish, an emergency measure after the sad thoughts of last week.  Similar to tea, there is no situation glitter nail polish can't improve.  

And the same is true of favorite books.  Edwin Morgan's The Second Life is one my new (poetry-era) favorites and it's got everything, all the big things, but I have been resting my eyes on this sweet, simple snapshot.

Linoleum Chocolate by Edwin Morgan

Two girls running
running laughing,
laughing lugging
two rolls of linoleum
along London Road-
a bar of chocolate
flies from the pocket
of the second, and a man
picks it up for her, she takes it
and is about to pocket it
but then unwraps it
and the girls have a bite
to recruit the strength
of their giggling progress.

The Second Life is out of print but many of the poems are in this.

 

All of my friends are welcome

 

 Thanksgiving is tomorrow which means fantastic food and counting blessings.  It's lovely to spend a day thinking about all the good things in life- beautiful children, family, friends both real and imaginary, books and music, beaded fringe and glitter nail polish (I realize those last two are probably just me).

This year I have an old school friend coming to stay which means one more beloved face at the table and, once the children are tucked into bed, tipsy Scrabble and uncontrollable giggling well into the wee hours.  Yay.

Every year on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, the morning DJ at the jazz station does a full show of songs about food.  She puts the most amazing set together each time and I always look forward to it.  She played this one last year.  My elder boy thinks the part about eating the table and napkins is hilarious.  

Cab Calloway - Everybody Eats When They Come To My House

Many many thanks to each of you who visit, comment, send music and drop a line every now and again.  Happy Thanksgiving.

What are those blue remembered hills

 

I painted my nails an arresting shade of periwinkle and read A Shropshire Lad.  The periwinkle had to go almost immediately as it clashed unbecomingly with the red costume I was slated to wear.  A Shropshire Lad, on the other hand (ahem), is a keeper.

XXXVI

White in the moon the long road lies,
    The moon stands blank above;
White in the moon the long road lies
    That leads me from my love. 

Still hangs the hedge without a gust,
    Still, still the shadows stay:
My feet upon the moonlit dust
    Pursue the ceaseless way.

The world is round, so travellers tell,
    And straight though reach the track,
Trudge on, trudge on, 'twill all be well,
    The way will guide one back.

But ere the circle homeward hies
    Far, far must it remove:
White in the moon the long road lies
    That leads me from my love. 

I love this one but other than the gorgeous simplicity of the language I don't know that it is completely representative; it's not narrated from six feet under or anything.  The poems are very concretely about loss and death and the fleeting nature everything but I liked the straightforward elegance of the words.

And anyway if you've reached a certain point in life then it isn't exactly news that it all goes by so fast.  I guess the choices are cynicism to the point where nothing matters, or swinging the other way and treasuring all the little things.  

'Tis late to hearken, late to smile,
    But better late than never:
I shall have lived a little while
    Before I die forever. 

That's definitely more feeling of the book, and I'm an everything matters kind of girl. The eggs most certainly.  The storybook fog.  The record he played and the dress the you wore.  Especially the dress. 

Aidan Moffat and the Best-Ofs - The Lavender Blue Dress

Nothing like a beautiful Scottish accent to lift the spirits.  With many thanks to JC who sent that to me a while back.

And call me shallow if you must but the dress always matters.