The greatest of all the wood-people, Pomona herself
Happiness is a duck in the oven and a glaze of quinces and cider simmering on the stove. In one of its forms, anyway. Another is new books—
papersky's Ha'penny,
desperance's Shelter, Ben Parzybok's Couch, Growing Back: Poems 1972—1992 by Rika Lesser. Yet another is
lesser_celery, in person, talking about Tom Stoppard and beef stock and dirty bombs. Music I haven't heard yet. An enameled plaque of squid. My brother, dozing. TCM appears to be playing film noir for Christmas, of which I totally approve. Tomorrow, the Museum of Science; first, I must attend to the duck.
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That is not to sneer at. Plain duck is still delicious. Duck is delicious. It is one of the foods of the gods.
Glad you had a happy Christmas with friends and family and new books.
I hope likewise!
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This is very true.
There was one year when we had enough people in the house at Christmas that we cooked two ducks, one with a bread stuffing and one stuffed with apples and cranberries. I wish we'd had excuse to do that this year.
I hope likewise!
Yes, thank you. It was only my parents and the dog and me, but I'm used to that. And I now have The Children of Húrin, The Tales of Beedle the Bard, Eamon Duffy's The Stripping of the Altars, and a very interesting-looking book about Jewish pirates in the Caribbean during the 16th and 17th centuries to read.
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I'm very pleased, yes.
I've kept reading references to Duffy--it seems as if it was about time to actually read him. Now to see how much I can get read before classes start up again and I'm too swamped to read anything that's not either Irish studies or mindless entertainment.
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