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Fish learned to walk, now they know to say hello
Dead leaves were blowing in the streets as I drove to and from my appointment this afternoon, obviously loosened by the melting snow, but in conjunction with the grey skies and the skeletal trees, they created a convincing illusion of autumn. By nightfall it had started to speckle with rain and smell like spring. It was so cold this weekend that my back seized up if I wasn't walking full tilt outside.
I have been sleeping so little that I remember few dreams, but while napping I had a vivid nightmare like a lithograph of the trenches: a man's white face washed in black mud. It had a blocky, spattery look, not at all like the cursive engravings of David Jones. If I dream in visual art, it's usually film.
Hestia has been put on dental treats by her GP and nuzzles her head into my palm to crunch them eagerly, snip-snap-snup. The first time she did it, it gave me a physical shock of her brother, who always used to burrow for any lingering traces of lox or chicken or other human provisions clearly intended for the delectation of cat. Just now I was feeding her dinner and she took a moment to whack and consume a stray moth before returning to her original main course.
I didn't realize until I was catching up on the news that Mayor Wu had shown up to defend her sanctuary city with a cross of ashes on her forehead and a baby in her arms, which definitely mobilizes some imagery and good for her for pairing it with frank speech. "A city that's scared is not a city that's safe, a land ruled by fear is not the land of the free."
(It was nicer to read than the news that we we have reached the point in the national discourse of relitigating the lynching of Leo Frank at the level of the Department of Defense. How shocked I am that the deputy press secretary also propagates white genocide conspiracy theories and refers to Ukraine as "globalist." What a fragment of the blatant Gish gallop. Every writer I know would have devised a less hack-rate dystopia than the one we are barreled into.)
It doesn't come with a thoroughly delightful vid for a movie I have loved since high school, but I have also been listening to Grahame Moore's original version of "Tom Paine's Bones" (1995).
I have been sleeping so little that I remember few dreams, but while napping I had a vivid nightmare like a lithograph of the trenches: a man's white face washed in black mud. It had a blocky, spattery look, not at all like the cursive engravings of David Jones. If I dream in visual art, it's usually film.
Hestia has been put on dental treats by her GP and nuzzles her head into my palm to crunch them eagerly, snip-snap-snup. The first time she did it, it gave me a physical shock of her brother, who always used to burrow for any lingering traces of lox or chicken or other human provisions clearly intended for the delectation of cat. Just now I was feeding her dinner and she took a moment to whack and consume a stray moth before returning to her original main course.
I didn't realize until I was catching up on the news that Mayor Wu had shown up to defend her sanctuary city with a cross of ashes on her forehead and a baby in her arms, which definitely mobilizes some imagery and good for her for pairing it with frank speech. "A city that's scared is not a city that's safe, a land ruled by fear is not the land of the free."
(It was nicer to read than the news that we we have reached the point in the national discourse of relitigating the lynching of Leo Frank at the level of the Department of Defense. How shocked I am that the deputy press secretary also propagates white genocide conspiracy theories and refers to Ukraine as "globalist." What a fragment of the blatant Gish gallop. Every writer I know would have devised a less hack-rate dystopia than the one we are barreled into.)
It doesn't come with a thoroughly delightful vid for a movie I have loved since high school, but I have also been listening to Grahame Moore's original version of "Tom Paine's Bones" (1995).
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https://youtu.be/OGd5rqYbt5o?feature=shared
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I have, but I don't mind the double-check!
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I somehow missed that there was a musical about Leo Frank
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parade_(musical)
until someone on the radio mentioned the touring company.
In my mind, LF looks like Peter Gallagher, because of the 1988 Tv mini-series
(not a musical, despite PG's lovely voice).
https://m.imdb.com/title/tt0095678/
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Yes. I would rather have someone fighting for what the city should be than content with, say, the Seaport.
I somehow missed that there was a musical about Leo Frank
Yes! I've never seen it, but it has been on regular rotation on Standing Room Only since it came out. I was glad the revival did so well in 2023.
In my mind, LF looks like Peter Gallagher, because of the 1988 Tv mini-series
I don't know that retelling at all!
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Oh, that's so beautiful. Hopefully that inspires other people to stand up as well.
I have also been listening to Grahame Moore's original version of "Tom Paine's Bones" (1995).
I hadn't heard that one! I only know the Grace Petrie version.
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I hope so. She's certainly modeling what it looks like.
I hadn't heard that one! I only know the Grace Petrie version.
And I hadn't heard hers! Thanks for the pointer.
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It had started to speckle with rain --perfect verb.
I had a dream last night about holding a newborn baby whose head was separate from its body, but I was assured by the family that this was perfectly fine, normal, not to worry. (It was a very cute baby all the same.)
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You're welcome! Mayor Wu was far and away the best thing I saw in the papers.
I had a dream last night about holding a newborn baby whose head was separate from its body, but I was assured by the family that this was perfectly fine, normal, not to worry. (It was a very cute baby all the same.)
Aw. I dreamed about a museum exhibit of the ancient Near East, which probably reflects how much I miss museums.
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Saffron will leave absolutely any other occupation to swat fruit flies. As I prepare her and Cassie's food, trying not to step on the Cassie right underfoot, I'm accompanied by a chorus of Fwap Boop Bonk Thud as Saffron smacks different surfaces the fruit flies have alighted on. She has to be called to her actual food, since she does not actually eat the fruit flies.
When we get a moth, there is much staring up at the ceiling and occasional eruptions of wild pouncing and running about, but nobody eats those either. Wasteful, I call it.
P.
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Oh, what a good cat. I am especially entertained that she hunts the fruit flies for sport rather than sustenance. Hestia is definitely invested in the edible values of insects.
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I'm glad she's visible!
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But this is such a beautifully written paragraph, I keep stopping to read it again every time I go back down my flist:
Dead leaves were blowing in the streets as I drove to and from my appointment this afternoon, obviously loosened by the melting snow, but in conjunction with the grey skies and the skeletal trees, they created a convincing illusion of autumn. By nightfall it had started to speckle with rain and smell like spring.
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Thank you!
*hugs*
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I didn't realize until I was catching up on the news that Mayor Wu had shown up to defend her sanctuary city with a cross of ashes on her forehead and a baby in her arms, which definitely mobilizes some imagery and good for her for pairing it with frank speech. "A city that's scared is not a city that's safe, a land ruled by fear is not the land of the free."
I have to admit I really liked this image on several levels. Also, unsurprisingly, someone needs to take the word "treason" away from Republicans.
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Oh, God, yes. There are few words they use with accuracy, really.