by Emily Dickinson
I counted till they danced so
Their slippers leaped the town –
And then I took a pencil
To note the rebels down –
And then they grew so jolly
I did resign the prig –
And ten of my once stately toes
Are marshalled for a jig!
Source: The Poems of Emily Dickinson Edited by R. W. Franklin (Harvard University Press, 1999)
Originally posted on The Bard on the Hill:
It sifts from leaden sieves,
It powders all the wood,
It fills with alabaster wool
The wrinkles of the road.
It makes an even face
Of mountains and of plain, –
Unbroken forehead from the east
Unto the east again.
It reaches to the fence,
It wraps it, rail by rail,
Till it is lost in fleeces;
It flings a crystal veil
On stump and stack and stem, –
The summer’s empty room,
Acres of seams where harvest were,
Recordless, but for them.
It ruffles wrists of posts,
As ankles of a queen, –
Then stills its artisans like ghosts,
Denying they have been.
Love this idea. Hate time and clocks anyway, and mornings are the worst. It would totally be worth a bit of extra attention to local time if productivity and health improved.
Originally posted on The Dish:
Maria Konnikova presents research into “sleep inertia” – the reason why we’re all so miserable in the morning – and what can be done about it:
When [neuroscientist Kenneth] Wright asked a group of young adults to embark on a weeklong camping trip, he discovered a striking pattern: before the week was out, the negative sleep patterns that he’d previously observed disappeared. In the days leading up to the trip, he had noted that the subjects’ bodies would begin releasing the sleep hormone melatonin about two hours prior to sleep, around 10:30 P.M. A decrease in the hormone, on the other hand, took place after wake-up, around 8 A.M. After the camping trip, those patterns had changed significantly. Now the melatonin levels increased around sunset—and decreased just after sunrise, an average of fifty minutes before wake-up time. In other words, not only did the time outside, in the absence of artificial…
View original 245 more words
Words Per Day To Finish On Time: 8,354
Days Remaining: 5
Well, at this rate I will have to do twelve-hour days to finish on time. Haven’t given up yet, and there is still Nephele’s December writing challenge to go! Because there is no telling if I’ll have a finished work even if I do complete Nanowrimo this year. This thing is sort of wandering all over the place, and tbh, it’s kind of a long, funny story. So we will see.
Also, my Pandora at-work playlist is a great help.
Once upon a time in a forest long ago and nearly as long forgotten, I made historical garments for museums and historic sites, and pretty much lived as a middling-class woman raising her rather large family.
Recently I’ve become aware of a group called The Historical Sew Forthnightly, which is “a group to celebrate historical costuming, share our historical sewing triumphs, ask questions, share interesting links and information, and MOST OF ALL, post about the themed historical sewing challenges that we are working towards every fortnight.” Awesome. This is exactly how I shall pick up my long-neglected sewing projects again.
The latest challenge issued is to sew a lovely undergarment. I am in dire need of a new set of stays, my white muslin petticoats are in tatters, and I don’t have nearly enough shifts. What to do? Although the stays are probably the highest on my to-do list, my fingers long to put together neat, orderly squares into a nice new shift. I love the felled-french seaming intrinsic to this garment’s construction. I shall begin forthwith – or as soon as I can lay hands on my linen stash.
These things have had my attention lately:
1. Concussions and American Football – we should really care about this. A lot.
2. Meniere’s Disease – ugh. So much not fun.
3. Placemaking – all things cool and imaginative
4. Pinterest – nothing more need be said
5. Starting Over – because even old landscapes evolve
This woman makes me laugh out loud sometimes. That is all.